#I get a little poke from past me not to be so serious all the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

screampied · 3 months

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Not sure if this is too specific but I NEED top geto that lets fem!reader top him just for once thinking reader would fail but geto immediately gets humbled !!! Not to mention geto is definitely very very vocal !!!!🤭

❤︎ ໋𓈒 cocky geto find the idea of you topping him adorable but he soon gets humbled quickly

warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, choking geto, mdni.

“baby, are ya sure,” he’d hum with a coy grin, leaning back against the cushioned sofa. he had the look is pure amusement plastered on his face. his tone and the way he structured his tone to make himself tease you even further made you lightly pout. with a hand gripped against your waist, he runs a thumb against your bare skin. “you…you wanna ride me?”

“you don’t think i can?” you furrow your eyebrows, just barely hovering over him. geto has a free arm stretched against the edge of the couch, eyeing you up and down with a sly grin.

he swiftly shakes his head. “i’m not saying that baby, i jus’ think it’s cute.”

“cute.” you repeat, giving him a brief deadpan before you start to align yourself. you intake a breath…feeling his leaky tip marginally brush against your entrance. geto liked getting underneath your skin whenever he could, but you wanted to show him how wrong he was.

geto snickers at your reaction, softly grazing his thumb repeatedly down your side before he murmurs in a soft raspy tone, “prove me wrong then.”

“i’m going to, suguru. so shut up and lie the fuck back.”

“y-yes ma’am.” he suddenly stammers, feeling your hand lightly go around his throat. you slowly rock forward against him, and geto leans back, getting turned on from the grip you had.

his back leans against the cushion before he stares at you, a sudden cold sweat running down him metaphorically. “shit, you’re serious?”

and despite everything, he still had a coy grin poking against his lips. the feeling of your hand that went around his neck, it made his dick twitch a bit. you choking him briefly. adding just a bit of pressure, you drag a thumb, rubbing up against his adam’s apple. “i like your confidence princess, but—”

“suguru,” you grumble, and the moment you start to sink down on his thick base, he lets off a grunt. in the midst of your pussy taking him fully, you move your hips forward a bit—a quick jerk to make him eat his words. geto’s head goes back, feeling your hand still around his neck.

“if—if you’re gonna choke me, at least do it harder princess.” he grunts, a left hand of his snaking towards your ass. you nearly slip off a moan, remembering how handsy he was. he grips your ass before giving it a light spank.

a brat even till the very end.

with a swift eyeroll, murmuring a, “fine,” you squeeze his neck a little bit tighter — geto looks so pretty underneath you.

once you start up a rhythmic pace, his groans become more vocal. the grip your cunt made against him had him nearly in shambles.

geto’s smirk never fades. you start to grind against him in such a way that he just can’t shut himself up.

he’s balls deep, stirring up your insides to where you lean right up against his chest to nip near his neck. soft chaste kisses.

“fuckkk, good. kiss my neck, jus’ like that.” and his voice, it was a pitchy low. a bit of rasp underneath it, he continued to pause every few seconds to swallow and he’s panting.

heavily…

the way your skin slaps and clouts ruthlessly on his thigh turns him on entirely so.

the recoil of your ass—geto was forevermore a handsy man. he’d run and trace his fingertips on your skin, low husky grunts skidding past his spit-glossed lips each second.

he loved grabbing your ass as it fucked back against him. you studied his facial expressions. such a pretty man. his hair was a mess, it wasn’t tied up so strands just went all across his face as you rode him. purely occluding his vision.

“…mhm, you’re such a tease,” he murmurs, feeling you start to playfully suck on his neck. geto’s thigh starts to bounce idly in the background and you press your hands on his chest.

he had an abashed expression, eyes half-lidded, and speaking of eyes…his dark irises, they were dilated. all because of you.

his pretty girl that was making him eat his words up. he catches you starting before scoffing.

“f-fuckkk me,” he huffs out, feeling you vigorously clamp down on him again and again. it had him dizzy, mind unintentionally spasming,

your perfume scent making his heart race. “grippin’ me so tight, ‘s no fair.”

massaging the middle part of his neck, you lean in to kiss geto.

he returns the gesture, his tongue moving against yours and he moans. it’s more of a whiny moan if anything. jerking your hips slightly, he squeezes a hand against your waist—huffing and puffing.

he felt a bundle of nerves surge all through him. the way you moved back and forth against him, a groan gets caught in his throat and before he knew it, he starts to feel himself coming close. that quick.

“y-you’re gonna,” he breathes, his chest kept heaving and heaving..

geto’s bare chest, a few dark hairs of chest hair decorating his skin. you hum, dragging a finger down his chest, giving his perky nipples a playful pinch to watch him whine. “gonna make me cum too quick, s-shit.”

“what happened to your confidence, sugu?” you mutter, keeping up a pace. you start to quicken a bit to where he can barely keep up.

geto could barely register anything, his mind—it was ditzy. thinking of nothing but the way you pussy soaked down on him, clenching stupidly around his cock. “you said i couldn’t ride you, baby.”

“you still can’t,” he pants, trying to keep up his façade but you could literally hear from his tone.

he was so close to the edge. feeling you play with his nipples, geto bites his tongue. “i-im sensitive there, woman… you’re so f-fuckkk..”

you smile, nipping near his neck again before he groans—eyes rolling back, he gnaws on lip as he feels his orgasm unsteadily approaching.

your hips, the rhythm it had made him so woozy. he wanted more, he brings you in for a kiss again, and you move some of his long strands from his hair.

geto shivers, feeling you ride against him faster before within seconds…it happens.

he shoots right inside your gummy walls, a raspy groan departs from his lips once he feels himself pouring right into your cunt. dumping such a thick loud, you slow down your hips to stare at geto.

“don’t… don’t look at me.” he retorts, a near pout going against his lips. he wasn’t use to this, you getting the higher up on him.

you giggle, pressing a plethora of kisses near his nose at how he came too early. he grunts, the second you inch closer towards him, his dick that was still inside you twitched. pumped so full, you felt him coat your walls with every drop. “give… gimme another kiss, i need it.”

“you don’t need a kiss, geto,” you tease, being more of a chaff by refusing for a second.

as you moved closer towards his lips. he lets off a needy whine, his glossed lips were so trembly. he wanted more of your taste… so much. “if you want it that bad, just say pretty please.”

his eyes narrow at you, still letting off breathy pants before replying with a grouchy. “…no.”

“then you’re not getting a kiss.” you snicker with a shrug, watching the pout go against his lips again.

it was cute, seeing him try to keep up this bratty act. but not even seconds later, he deeply sighs with an adorable half eye roll. “okay, okay…. um. give me a kiss. pretty please. f-fuck, i want you.”

“good boy,” you mutter, giving him a quick kiss that he barely blinks. he wants more of you.

geto’s face flushes hard from the sudden pet name, and he groans once he feels you reach down towards his dick still perfectly buried inside you. you realign yourself, giving him another long kiss before briefly departing, softly uttering a, “now lie back, baby. ‘m not finished.”

“this…doesn’t mean anything by the way,” he tries to elucidate, yet shuts up the moment you softly wrap your hand around his neck. geto leans back, going manspread before with a pant, he smiles—still a brat. “but.. do your worst, baby. finish fucking me then. if you can, h-heh.”

#★vegasbaby.#geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut

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songbirdseung · 7 days

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pinky ring / sim jaeyun

synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.

pairing: childhood besties jake x reader

wc: 1.1k

To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.

For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.

"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".

That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.

"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"

At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".

It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.

Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.

You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.

Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.

"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"

"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"

"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"

"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.

Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.

"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."

"Then, who is going to marry me?"

"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"

"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.

That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.

With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.

Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.

When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.

Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"

"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"

Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"

In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"

Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.

But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.

"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #jake #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #sim jake

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dylobilysmomg · 4 months

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Motel Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.

“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.

The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”

Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.

“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.

“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.

Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.

“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.

“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.

Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.

I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.

“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.

“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.

“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.

“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.

“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.

“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.

I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.

“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.

After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.

It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.

“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.

I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.

Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.

The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.

I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.

“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%

He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.

I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.

“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.

We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.

I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.

“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?

“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.

“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.

He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.

“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.

“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.

“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.

He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.

Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.

I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”

Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.

I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.

“I could never hate you, baby.”

Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.

I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.

“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.

Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.

Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.

My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.

He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.

“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.

Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.

“Say it again.”

“Stiles.”

“Again.”

“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”

“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.

“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”

“Then do it.”

I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.

He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.

Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.

He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?

When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.

As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.

It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.

“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.

“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.

!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!

“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.

I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.

𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨

𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒

#dylan obrien #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien masterlist #ponyboi

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darknight3904 · 6 months

Text

Blank Space

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!

You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.

It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.

"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.

"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.

"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.

One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.

"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.

You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.

"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed

"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out

" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth

"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.

"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"

He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him

"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile

"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.

"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.

"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side

"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.

Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.

"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you

"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.

Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.

"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.

"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks

"You love it." He sighed into your skin.

Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games

You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?

It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.

"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly

"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat

"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said

"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.

"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say

"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies

"So you were just comforting her?" You ask

"Yes. Nothing more." He says

Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?

"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.

You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.

"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.

"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended

"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh

"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed

"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say

"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage

"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says

"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter

"That wasn't cheating." He says

"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask

"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says

"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."

"She'll win." He assures himself

"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.

"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer

"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."

"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently

"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly

"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you

"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh

"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."

You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.

"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."

Part 2

In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.

The teaser for Part Two can be found here

#coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #fanfic #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fluff #tbosas #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #tom blyth #rachel zegler #Spotify #Youtube

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cheolism · 7 months

Text

✧ CAUGHT IN A TRAP

✧ choi seungcheol x f!reader ✧ summary: you ask your brother's best friend to tie the top to your swimsuit. he's convinced that you've lured him into a trap and acts accordingly. ✧ wc is approx 4.5k ✧ tags: brother's best friend-to-lovers?? close proximity ✧ warnings: mdni. mentions of groping and luring!! grinding, oral and fingering, dick-in-vagina sex, overstim. cheol's dirty mouth, pet names (princess, baby, good girl, etc). begging, slightly mean cheol. this is basically all tension and porn. possibly morally questionable cheol? lmk if you think any should be added. ✧ author's note: first fic in a month! i've begun and quit so many fics in the past few weeks and this is the first one i've been able to finish. so i'm satisfied!! this is just desperate porn. this takes place during the summer so it is very out of season lol

"seungkwan," you call, opening your bedroom door just enough to peek out of it. you don't see your brother in the hall, so you call again; hopefully, he hasn't left for the lake already.

seungcheol appears before you can call for a third time. he's -- well. he's choi seungcheol and he's dressed for the lake, long trunks and a tank top that's somehow both too tight on his torso and just right, revealing his thick biceps and straining over his chest and making your eyes drop to trace the shape of them.

"seungkwan's already down at the dock," seungcheol answers, glancing at his phone. he looks back at you, lifting one of his thick brows at how you're poking only your head out. "everything okay?"

you can feel heat rush to your face. you refuse to look at his face, but then your eyes immediately drop back down to his chest and you can't look there because that would make you a huge creep, so you drop your gaze even further and it goes to his ankles.

"i need help," you mumble, "i can't tie the back of my top."

seungcheol's quiet and you refuse to look at him and repeat yourself. it's horrible. you think about him imagining you, the top of your swimsuit dangling around your shoulders and tits hanging out, and you slide the door shut just a little bit more.

"i'll just text seungkwan and tell him to come back up," you say, voice quiet with embarrassment. you shouldn't have even told seungcheol. he wasn't judging you out loud but seungcheol was -- he was perfect. he was the perfect man, the man you've dreamt about for as long as your brother's known him, and you're so overly aware of how you look to him -- of how he sees you as some silly little sibling to his dear friend, and you've just made yourself seem even more like a little kid.

"no need," seungcheol responds. his voice is deep, and you flick your eyes to watch him slide his phone into the pocket of his trunks. "i can tie it for you."

your eyes widen and your mouth drops a little. "no thanks!" you squeak, shutting the door entirely. "i'll just -- i'll just wear a shirt down!"

seungcheol laughs on the other side. he knocks against the door. "let me in, silly." he knocks again. "it's just tying a swimsuit."

right. it's just tying a swimsuit while you stand there, half-naked.

"no," you whine, "i'll really just --"

"let me tie your top." seungcheol's voice has taken on a more serious tone, the sort that he gets when he's trying to command a room.

you're quiet for half a minute, biting down on your lip and pressing your forehead against the door. it's just tying a swimsuit top, like seungcheol said; he just sees it as helping out his best friend's little sibling. but also, it's choi seungcheol, the man who inspires more crushes than he could ever be aware of, and you don't know if you can handle the mortification that comes with him seeing you like this.

but then, quietly, in the hopes that he'll miss it, you agree.

"let me in," he returns.

"just a second," and then you're moving from the door. you push your open suitcase behind the bed so he won't be able to see how your stripped underwear sits on top, and you kick your dirty clothes underneath the bed.

you reach behind you, grabbing the strings of your top and pulling them taut so your tits don't hang out. then you open the door, just a smidge. "hurry!"

seungcheol chuckles as you slam the door shut behind him. "it's just a swimsuit," he says, eyes twinkling. and he's so handsome, his dark hair hanging around his face and lips twisted in a smirk. it's so ridiculous, and you don't know why seungkwan ever introduced you to seungcheol because surely your brother knew you would end up like this.

(surely your brother knew that when he introduced you to seungcheol and mingyu and wonwoo but mainly seungcheol that in three years' time you would be standing with seungcheol in a bedroom in a lodge, turning so seungcheol could tie the strings to your top.

it was all seungkwan's fault.)

slowly, you turn your back to seungcheol. "quickly," you urge him. "we gotta hurry."

seungcheol scoffs at you. your body is so alert that you can practically feel every step he takes, that you can picture seungcheol crossing the room. when he grabs the strings of your top his fingertips skim along your back, and you can't help but jump.

"we're not going to get in trouble," seungcheol says, pulling the strings from your grasp. "we're both adults."

"can you imagine what seungkwan would say if he saw you leaving my bedroom when the door was closed," you hiss, bringing both of your hands to your front and crossing them over your chest. seungcheol's fingers slide against your shoulder blades and then he's beginning to tie your top, and you can feel every pull as he tightens them. every single movement seems to jostle your heart, seems to alert every single cell in your body to seungcheol's fingers. "forget kwannie -- can you imagine soonyoung? or jihoon? they'd tattle."

"they'd tattle," seungcheol laughs. "we're adults. if you're so worried we should've just left the door open."

"so someone can pass and look in to you tying my top?" you say, shaking your head. "no thanks."

the strings pull once more, and then seungcheol is tapping your shoulders. "finished."

"it's tight?" you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. "it won't come undone?"

seungcheol tugs the knot he made. "nope. we'll have to cut you out."

you grin, turning to face seungcheol. "thanks."

"wasn't so hard now was it?" seungcheol smirked down at you, lifting one of his thick brows. you hate it when he looks at you like this -- hate it because a single lift of his brow sends a tingling rush through you, one that shoots straight down to your cunt and makes you feel electric. "you were worried over nothing."

it's then, watching as he lowers his eyebrow but that smirk remains, that you realize just how close the two of you are. seungcheol had stepped close to you so he could tie your top and hadn't moved away. that meant that when you turned around there was hardly two feet of space between you.

and fuck, when you became aware of it you became aware.

his wide shoulders, the way his skin -- lightly tanned by the sun, as if even the sun had a crush on seungcheol and couldn't bear to burn his skin red like it had jihoon -- tightened around his biceps when he raised his arms up above his head in a stretch.

as he stretched you couldn't help but let your gaze flick back over his body. you were ogling him like he was some prize but, horribly, you couldn't help it. you couldn't help but take in the sight of his pecs, of how his nipples poked through the fabric of his dark tank top. the slight curve of his tummy, how he hadn't tucked his tank top into his trunks, and how the shirt rose as he stretched, revealing just a sliver of skin.

his neck, wide and thick, and his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and side, angling his face up towards the ceiling as he stretched.

seungcheol was like a flame, passion running through his veins. and like a moth, you couldn't help but reach.

you weren't even thinking. not a single thought was in your mind. it was as if your brain went offline, leaving nothing but your heart and the want that left little tingles in your cunt to command your body.

and you were reaching and placing your hand over his collarbone. his skin was smooth beneath your fingers, and you couldn't help but swipe your thumb over his skin, watching as your thumb moved.

then seungcheol's hand was shooting out and grabbing your wrist and your brain came online.

mortification shot through you. your brain began to go into overdrive as you gawked at seungcheol as if he had been the one to touch you unsolicited, as if he had been the one to press his hand to your skin and feel.

"i --" you began, a thousand thoughts shooting through your brain and yet not a single one leaving your lips. you can't speak. you can't because you just -- just groped choi seungcheol. "wait -- i --"

seungcheol cocks his head at you, brows lifting and you can feel -- despite the situation at hand -- more tingling in your pussy. "oh. i get it now."

"i-- get -- what?"

seungcheol grins at you, cherry blossom pink lips quirking. he moves closer to you, though there hasn't been that much space between the two of you to begin with and wasn't that where this entire problem started, so why was he getting closer?

"you were luring me in here," seungcheol announces, walking closer and closer and you begin backing up, straight into the wall opposite to the door. "i was just a passing fly you caught in your trap. is that right?"

your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to go. you're gawking up at seungcheol, feeling as if you were the fly in his trap. "what -- what are you talking about --"

"you wanted me to come in," seungcheol says, still grinning down at you. "you were pretending you needed your top tied. you were pretending so you could get me in your room, door shut. you were pretending so you could grope me."

your mouth fell open with an audible click. "i -- i didn't! seungcheol, i promise i didn't!"

seungcheol laughs at you meanly. he moves your hand, the one that, horribly, reached out and groped him, and presses it above your head and against the wall. he crowds closer, his other hand sliding along your jaw to cup your cheek. "you planned this."

"i didn't," you say, voice going quiet due to the lack of space between the two of you. "i was searching for seungkwan."

"you were," he mocks, and he's so mean. choi seungcheol is so mean. "you've got me in your little trap, baby. what are you gonna do with me?"

you wonder what the fuck he means. seungcheol's the one who's got you against the wall, he's the one with your wrist in his grasp.

seungcheol's eyes flick down. he's taking you in, you realize; he's admiring you.

"i've trapped you," you echo weakly.

seungcheol's eyes return to your face. "you have," he responds. "now what will you do with me?"

you lick your lips. your bottoms are soaked, you realize. you can feel their dampness, can feel the heat trapped between your thighs.

"i -- i've trapped you," you say, slowly, testing out each word. "i better -- i better use you, then."

"use me?" he says, cocking his head. seungcheol's eyes are sparkling, and you realize that he loves this. "how would you use me, baby? what would you do to me?"

your brain goes blank again. "uh. i'd -- i'd kiss you?"

"kiss me," he's grinning now as if you're amusing him. his thumb slides along your cheekbone. "is that it? you've got me in your hands for you to fuck around with and all you'd do is kiss me?"

"wanted to," you say. "i've wanted to kiss you for a while."

seungcheol's smile softens, and he's moving his hand from your cheek to press it next to your head on the wall. he's caging you in, and you're trapped between his arms, but you don't feel it. you don't feel like a trapped moth frantically looking for an escape.

shyly, you carry on. "i guess i'd -- if i had you, if i was going to use you -- i'd make you uh --"

"make me what?" he says, and he's enjoying it so much.

"you know."

"i don't," he says, brows raised. "you gotta tell me, baby. what do you want to do with me?"

you can't look at him. so you slide your gaze from his face and rest it on his collarbone. "i'd -- i'd sit on you."

"sit on me? that it?" seungcheol brings his face close, and his nose is against yours. "just sit on my lap? wouldn't do anything else? don't want to do anything else with me?"

you can't say it, so you shake your head.

seungcheol clicks his tongue. he trails his nose over your face, breath hot against your face. "okay. let me tell you what i'd do. if i had you in my trap i'd kiss you. kiss your cute little mouth, kiss your chin. kiss your throat, kiss your pretty tits. i'd kiss your tummy and i'd kiss your sweet little cunt -- i bet it's so pretty, princess. bet you have such a pretty little pussy."

you gasp, and his mouth is over your lips. he's not kissing you, but his lips are pressed to yours. you can feel them move as he speaks. "i'd have you take my cock," he carries on, each word sending heat and electricity to your pussy. "if i had you trapped i'd fuck you so good, baby."

you agree. you think of it, of seungcheol pressing his dick -- you just know he's big, know he's big and he'd feel so good around your cunt. you think of it and shift, feeling the wetness of your swimming bottoms.

"so?" he asks.

"so?"

seungcheol laughs at you. "would you let me trap you, baby? would you wander into my little trap and let me fuck you?"

"yes," you say, and it's the easiest thing you've ever said.

seungcheol kisses you. he immediately devours you, immediately traps you. seungcheol moves his mouth with intent, covering yours over and over and over, kissing you as if he had been wanting it, yearning for it.

you can't help but get lost in it--in him. his hands move from your wrists and to you, one of his hands sinking into your hair to guide you, his other going to wrap around your body and hold you close to him. he wants you, you think; wants you, wants you so desperately that he wants to mold your bodies into one.

your arms get trapped between your bodies, but you take the chance to press your hands against his chest and feel his body as he moves against you. it's not like you have the wits to do much else. with seungcheol's mouth devouring you, owning you, you can't do anything else than try and catch your breath between every eager press of your lips, can't do anything else than just stand there and let him take you.

seungcheol moves his tongue into your mouth, and that's when you break away. you gasp against him, trying to catch your breath, trying to focus. seungcheol moves on. he travels from your mouth, skimming his lips along your chin and jaw before going to your neck.

his hands move as his mouth does, and he's settling them on your hips and guiding them flush against his. you can feel his dick, can feel him as he mouths at your neck, never staying in one place, as if he would go crazy if he didn't press his mouth against every inch of you.

"seung--" you pant, your hands digging into the fabric of his tank top. he groans, a strangled noise against your skin. you try to speak again, but then he's skimming his teeth along your skin and you can't help but let out a high, keening whine.

he grins against your skin. "that's it, princess," he murmurs, "gotta me loud for me. gotta show me you really want it."

you groan, obedient, when he begins sucking at your neck. seungcheol works his mouth over you, sucking bruises into your skin.

"tell me," he commands, pressing his nose against your jaw, "tell me you want it."

"want it," you return, letting your head rest back against the wall. seungcheol moves his mouth back to your neck, and then he's running his lips along one of the strings of your swimming top, mouthing at it as if he was reminding you of how scantily clad you were. "want it, cheol, want you."

he hums. "tell me," he carries on, as if your words had no effect. "tell me you trapped me. tell me this was all part of your plan, baby."

you want to whine and protest, but then he's ducking his head and nipping at the exposed skin of your tits and you immediately give in. "it was," you whine, "i -- i trapped you, cheol. wanted you, want you so badly, cheol."

when seungcheol lifts his head, he's smirking. he presses you flat against the wall, mouth returning to the curve of your neck. seungcheol licks against your skin, drawing a noise from your mouth, just as he thrusts his leg between your thighs.

"too bad i caught onto your little plan, princess," he taunts. "i should turn around and walk out, shouldn't i? just leave you here in your room, all wet and desperate."

you whine, moving your hands against him. you run them over his pecs, over his shoulders.

"don't," you beg, unable to keep your voice from going high in desperation. "please, seungcheol, please --"

"please what?"

"fuck me," you beg, wanton yearning seeking its talons into you. you wanted, wanted so desperately. he was all around you, surrounding you; you could feel the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his skin beneath your hands. but it wasn't enough. you wanted him inside of you, wanted to feel him within. "please, please fuck me --"

"prove it to me, baby," he says. "prove it that you want me. show me. show me, precious."

he presses his knee up against you, shoving it underneath your cunt. "ride me," he commands, "ride my thigh, princess."

you immediately bare down on his thigh. you angle your hips so your clit is rubbing over his thigh through your bottoms, and the relief feels so good that you can't help but let your head fall back against the wall. seungcheol immediately takes advantage, pressing his face against your chest and mouthing at your tits, hands gripping your hips and guiding.

your nails sink into his skin. you fuck down onto his thigh, chasing that feeling that tugs at your cunt. it's as if you're mindless, as if you had been born just to fuck yourself against choi seungcheol's thigh.

and you ride him like that. ride him as if it was your one mission in life. your mouth falls open and he quickly covers it, licking into your mouth. "that's it, princess. gotta cum on me, gotta prove you want me."

"want you," you beg, "please, cheol. help me, want you so badly, cheol, please please --"

he curses. seungcheol pulls away from you completely, drawing a loud noise of disapproval from your mouth.

but then seungcheol's hands grip your hips, and then he's pulling you from the wall and spinning so he could push you back onto the bed. as soon as you fall he's on you, his mouth -- already red from the force of his passionate kisses -- covering your skin, frantically moving from the curve of your tits to your stomach to your bottoms.

seungcheol's hands go to your thighs and he's parting your legs. you don't even have a chance to get shy before he's mouthing at you through your swim bottoms, licking a broad stripe from your cunt to your clit.

your responding moan is loud, and you don't even have the presence of mind to try and cover it. seungcheol licks over your bottoms, pushing his tongue against them as if they weren't there at all. you're completely wet, you're soaked, it's as if you had gone down to the lake after all, but it's just from your cunt and you wonder if he's going to drown in it.

but you ride his face nonetheless; you move your hips as he works his mouth, chasing him, chasing that tongue of his. you can't help it. there's something desperate, something animalistic inside of you and it's taken over, and you can't help but wrap your thighs around his head and beg.

seungcheol slips his fingers into the bottoms, moving them aside. he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips before he's latching onto your clit, sucking and sucking, and it's like something releases inside of you and you're cumming, thighs tight around his head and fingers twisting in the seats.

instead of giving you a moment to gather yourself seungcheol continues. he laps at your clit, laving his tongue over it, while he maneuvers his fingers against your hole. "be good for me," he says, breath hot against your cunt. "be good and prove to me that you want my dick, baby."

you nod, breathless, and he slides one of his fingers inside of your cunt. immediately you're clenching down on him, and he responds with a curse. seungcheol doesn't stop; he continues to lick at your cunt while feeds his fingers into your cunt, one at a time, spreading them out and preparing you for his cock.

you're electric. forget the moth and the flame. it's as if seungcheol's ignited something in you and you're buzzing with it. you just want more and more and more, and you don't even realize you're begging for it.

eventually, seungcheol pulls from your cunt. his face is soaked. he's smirking, though, and his eyes gleam as he pulls his tank top up and off. seungcheol lets you gawk at him, lets you look. and you really can't help but look.

you take in his pecs, his broad shoulders. his brown nipples and how they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom, his stomach. you can't help but be in awe of him, of the softness of his body and how it covers his strong muscles, and your cunt tightens around nothing.

seungcheol laughs at you, and then he's pulling your bottoms. you raise your hips off of the bed and let seungcheol pull them off and drop them onto the floor. he slips his fingers into the waistband of his trunks before they, too, drop to the floor.

he's beautiful, you think. he's completely bare before you, his dick large and straining, and he's absolutely beautiful.

seungcheol moves back onto the bed, slipping his hands underneath your thighs and moving them up. he presses them to your chest, and when he's close enough you can't help but thread your fingers through his hair and bring his face to yours. you kiss him, sliding your mouths together.

he grins against your mouth. seungcheol moves one of his hands, running it along your thigh before pressing his palm to your cunt. "you've trapped me, baby," he whispers, and then you feel his cock press against your pussy.

"please," you beg, fingers tightening around his blonde locks. "please cheol."

seungcheol guides his cockhead so it's against your entrance. but then he stops. he pauses, eyes flicking over your face. you can't help but feel frustrated; all of this playing and here he is, about to fuck you and stopping.

"seungcheol," you whine, wiggling against him in hopes he'll take mercy on you. "please, seungcheol. want you so badly, please, please!"

he hums. he's got a flush on his face, but he's trying to appear unaffected. "i don't know, baby. don't know if you really want it."

you let out a sob. in the future maybe you'll look back on this movement with shame. in the present, however, you feel tears spring to your eyes and you tighten your grip on his hair, bringing his head down so you can press desperate kisses to his face.

"please," you sob, pressing a kiss against his mouth. "please, cheolie. i -- i want you so bad, want you to fuck me, please, please --"

when he finally slides in he does it all at once. seungcheol fucks his cock into you in one swift movement, sheathing himself to the hilt inside of your cunt. you can't help but cry out, back arching and fingers digging into his shoulders.

it hurts, faintly. it's not an acute pain, but instead a dull ache of your cunt stretching around his cock. it goes away rather quickly, and then you're bucking your hips up against him.

"good girl," he whispers, and then he's withdrawing. he draws back until just the tip of his cock is at your entrance, and you can't help but be on edge -- every single neuron and electron in your body is on fucking edge, waiting, anticipating --

and then he fucks back into you, his balls slapping against your cunt. you let out a loud moan, uncaring of the noise. he does it again, drawing his hips out quickly and sheathing himself in a hurried movement. seungcheol fucks you deeply, quickly, and harshly.

he fucks you like a man depraved, like a man desperate. as if he had admired you all this time just as you had him.

every thrust drives you up the bed, every thrust making his balls slap against your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the loud slaps of skin and skin and the wet squelches from your cunt. you'll be sore in a matter of hours but you don't care. you don't care, not when he's fucking you so deeply and fitting so perfectly inside.

"good girl," he chants, slipping his hands behind your knees and keeping your thighs against your chest. he uses his grip on your body to angle himself, and the next time he thrusts into your cunt he's hitting that gummy core inside of you that makes your lips curl and your eyes squeeze shut.

"pretty girl," he carries on, thrusts punishing. "pretty girl with her pretty cunt, so fucking wet 'n warm, so fucking good for me, made just for me --"

"for you," you echo, a loud, ugly sob coming out. "you, cheol -- yours, you -- for you, for you --"

seungcheol curses, and then he's cumming inside of you. his cum is hot and there's so much, and he fucks into your cunt, fucks his cum into your pussy until his dick is soft and he's wincing.

seungcheol moves. his dick slips out of you but before you can miss it, before you can miss him, he's returning to your pussy. seungcheol slaps his hand against your cunt once, and then he's thrusting his fingers against your clit harshly, rhythmically.

"such a good girl," he growls, thick brows furrowed. "good fucking good, taking me so good -- good girl, pretty girl. all mine, all fucking mine."

he slaps your cunt again and you cum, and it's like a thunderous wave has plunged over you. you can't hear or see, and you don't know if you're even breathing. but you're cumming and cumming and cumming, and his hand is working furiously at your clit and you don't know if you'll ever stop cumming.

seungcheol is still moving his fingers against your clit when you come to. he's moving them slowly, softly, guiding you back down from that high. his large eyes are taking you in as if he's trying to memorize how you look before him.

you meet his eyes; you smile.

and then he grins so brightly that you just know.

he's got you in his trap.

#katie: writing #svthub #s.coups #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups oneshot #s.coups fic #s.coups smut #s.coups oneshot #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol fic #choi seungcheol oneshot

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luveline · 5 months

Note

your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?

thank u!! fem!reader

Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from.

You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask.

“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says.

“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”

Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.

“How come you stayed?”

It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?”

“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?”

Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay.

“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away.

“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.”

Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?”

“Don't you have emails to look through?”

You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.”

“Consider it an addition.”

Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes.

“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say.

“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach.

You look at it unhappily. Look up at him.

Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room.

He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.)

Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes.

“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.

He goes a little blind.

Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement.

“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.”

“Reid has his own tasks–”

“I can help,” Spencer interrupts.

You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?”

“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath.

“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.”

Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here.

If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?”

Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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enwoso · 1 month

Text

START AN ARGUMENT — alessia russo

this is my first time writing in a really long time so if there are any mistakes i apologise! but if you have any questions or requests please send them!

navigation

"lessi c'mere now, please!" you say as she walks into the kitchen, clad in a long oversized white t-shirt and shorts her hair still wet signalling that she had just gotten out of the shower.

a look of suspicion on her face at you stood in front of your phone. "what are you up to?" she giggled coming near to your phone which was propped up against your heart shaped mug which you had made at a pottery date with the blonde a few months ago. the blonde stopping at the corner of the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed as the mischievous look on your face.

"no c’mere" you repeat pulling her arm into the frame of the camera. "i want to start an argument." you say, letting go of the blondes arm and folding your arms to cover your check as your voice was laced with seriousness.

"why?" the blonde asks her eyes narrowing, not being able to tell if you were being serious or if this was part of the reason why you were recording. "is this another one of your silly tiktok things?" she asked but you pretended you hadn't heard her ask the question.

you cleared you voice, picking up the piece of paper which you had written your questions down on. "alessia russo, if i, your girlfriend - ran away would you get with someone else?" you ask, an element of shock appearing on alessia's face. she wasn't sure what you were going to ask but that definitely wasn't on her list of things.

"no never, i love you" she says with a smile thinking she's got the answer right. "what would you do?" you ask, still with a straight face.

"i would be single and lonely and become a mum to your many jelly cats" alessia says again with a slight smile, looking at the camera which is recording the whole moment.

"incorrect." you say bluntly.

"what, so i would be with someone else?"

"no. if i ran away you would come and find me and you would not stop until you had found me, got it?" you say as if that was the most obvious answer she could have said.

"oh, loud and clear!" the blonde says breaking into another fit of laughter not being able to take this whole serious persona you had adopted the past few minutes.

"if you were blindfolded, and had to kiss 50 women including me. would you guess it was me and if so, how?" you say reading of the peice of paper before giving your girlfriend a deep stare.

"of course i would be able to tell which is you, cause you always poke your tongue-" alessia began but didn't have a chance to finish as you cut her off.

"incorrect!"

"why!"

"you shouldn't want to kiss fifty other women to guess which one is me!" you say, shaking your head in false disapproval. "why would you want to kiss 49 other women?"

"i wouldn't!" alessia says in a pleading tone, as she drags her hands down her face in frustration.

"good, now next one, who is always right in this relationship?" you say knowing exactly what she's going to say which is the furthest from the truth.

"right, okay let's be fair-" alessia begins as you side eye her your eyebrows raising a little, "who is always right in this relationship" you repeat the question emphasis on the word right.

"me"

"incorrect!"

alessia begins to laugh as she knows that's wasn't the correct answer, "that's so incorrect." you say still in your total seriousness persona. "i know, but i never get to be right" the blonde adds with a pout.

"again, incorrect!"

"ok, do you prefer my hair natural or with blonde highlights?" you say looking at alessia who's looking at your hair which at the moment is your full natural colour.

"with blonde" alessia says knowing how much you do love it when it comes to getting your hair done.

"incorrect!"

"nah, now your just lying to wind me up!“

"no, you should prefer me no matter what" you say as she lets out a loud groan, "i don't like when your being all serious, can my big softie come back?"

"i can't cope with these questions"

"i can't believe your getting these so wrong!"

"i can't win.”

"would you kiss someone for £10 million, that wasn't me?" you say looking alessia in the eye as she does back to you. "no!" there being a slight pause after she said her answer, the blonde being done with your game you were playing wanting it to be over now cause it was beginning to mess with her head.

"incorrect!"

"what so i would!" she says confused as to why you've said it was incorrect, "yeah!" you said as if it was again the most obvious answer she could have said.

"you just told me i can't kiss 49 other women!" she argued back as you were now beginning to try not to break your straight face.

"i never said you had to kiss them on the lips, could of kissed them on the finger!" you protested as she shook her head mumbling how she doesn't like this silly game you've come up with.

"you've just lost us ten million! you know how many jelly cats i could of had with that." you frown.

"terribly sorry, i'll buy you the jelly cat instead"

"last one, this is the make or break one, if you went to the shop and i said i didn't want anything would you still bring me something back?" you said placing the sheet of paper on the kitchen counter next to your phone which as still recording the whole moment.

"no, cause you just eat what's mine anyway and then not eat what i brought you back, so it wouldn't matter"

"incorrect"

"you should always bring me something back even if i say i don't want anything!" you say a smile beginning to crack on your face.

"got it! note to self always bring you food" alessia says tapping her head as if that was going to help her remember that specific piece of information.

"yes!"

"or drinks"

"yes or flowers!"

"got it!" alessia says bringing you into a bear hug and attacking you with sloppy kisses. "lessi get off me!" you giggle as she carry's on holding onto you as your stood with your back to the counter as she holds you against it, you leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"incorrect baby, try again!” alessia says a smirk rising on her face. you shake your head at copying your act you had just been doing and lean up to kiss her on the lips as she sighs and smiles into it.

liked by leahwilliamson and 601,925 others

yourusername just been told i have too many jelly cats.. honestly have never heard something so ridiculous in my life!

comments -

alessia baby it’s getting to the point where i can’t get in bed at night because of them all😐

1h 210 likes reply

-> yourusername well i cant sleep with one and not the others. they have feelings too you know!

kyracooneyx omg have you seen the new ones that have just released!

1h 196 likes reply

-> alessia please don’t encourage her you pest!

-> yourusername i know! there being delivered next week!

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burnthatbridge · 1 month

Text

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know)

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious. “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all.

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed.

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled.

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress.

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul.

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it.

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t.

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission.

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else.

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to.

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him.

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie.

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.”

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it.

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them.

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.”

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next?#or is it good as is?#these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me)#buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

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sam24 · 5 months

Text

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

#marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #protective bucky barnes

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 3 months

Note

vox more than anything fic ending with fluffy makeup sex is all i need :,))) LET ME HOLD THAT TV MAN!!!

I didn't end up adding the spice because it didn't flow naturally with how this came out. I do headcanon that Vox would 100% try to initiate spicy times during a makeup because he wouldn't know how to handle the emotional vulnerability in any other way. Homeboy hasn't exactly had any healthy fight aftermaths. Hope yall are ready for the fluffy pain <3

Tag List: @luzzbuzz

More Than Anything Part 3 [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5 (Vox POV)

Things at the Vee's Tower seemed relatively normal when you stepped into the lobby. It felt a little weird if anything. When Vox was upset, it could shut down the entire tower for days on end if it was something more serious. You didn't hear the hum of the overbearing generators that would keep things running during his fits and your worry only grew as you stepped into the elevator. You swallowed down your anxiety as you scanned your badge that would let you onto the elite floor where the penthouses of the Vee's were at the top.

Did something happen to Vox? Was he not here for some reason? Where would he go? Did he... just not care?

Anxiety swirled in your mind as the elevator doors slid open. You saw Velvette on the couch scrolling through her phone and the young overlord perked up when she saw you.

"Bout fucking time," she groaned as she pocketed her phone and got off the couch. "Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass it's been to babysit the man-child?" Velvette poked at your chest and you couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes as she frowned at you. "You owe me for this."

Ninety percent of hell didn't see past Velvette's tough-as-nails exterior and if it hadn't been for the time you'd spent with the Vee's due to your relationship with Vox, you doubt you would have ever seen through the cracks in her demeanor either. For all her bark and bite, you could tell she cared for Vox and Valentino deeply. She wouldn't look so damn exhausted right now if she didn't.

"I'll make it up to you," you sigh in relief as you drop your bag to the side. "Where is he?"

To say you were less than pleased when you saw the door held shut by the smokey chains of Valentino's magic was an understatement. You were pissed. While you still felt a semblance of gratitude for the other Vee's keeping Vox from doing anything rash, you were going to tear them both a new one for keeping him caged like a fucking animal.

Velvette lifted her hands and got the cue to leave as you triggered your demon form and slashed Valentino's magic to wispy shreds. You yanked open the door and your eyes searched the room for Vox maniacally. There we no cameras and the windows had been covered with some sort of blockers. It looked like the Vee's had the sense to leave him with some comfort items and non-tech-involved things to pass the time, but the only technology you saw was some ancient Nokia-looking phone lying by his foot that he wouldn't be able to use to teleport out of the room.

"Vox?" You breathed as you saw him curled up in a corner with his screen buried against his knees.

His head whipped up and he breathed your name, only to curse as his body glitched hard from the prolonged stress.

"Y̶o̸u̴ ̸c̶a̷m̴e̸ ̸b̶a̸c̸k̴?̷," he asks, and your heart aches as you watch him flinch at the static in his voice.

"Oh hun, come here," you sigh as you get down on your knees and pull his screen towards you. You didn't know much about tech, but his personal repair sinner had shown you some of the basics to take care of Vox if anything ever got out of hand.

You reached around the back of his head and did a hard reset for him, holding him close to you as he went limp against your chest. When Vox powered back up, he flinched hard and pushed himself away from you, backing up with wide eyes and frantic breathing before he processed it was you who had been holding him and not Valentino.

"Woah! Easy," you gasp, not expecting the sudden movement. You look over him and instantly regret leaving him for as long as you had. "What... What happened?"

Vox's heart was pounding rapidly in his chest as flashes of Valentino's manipulative words flitted through his mind. The promises of affection if he crawled back. The venom in his voice as he told Vox you'd never love him again. The back and forth between gentle lies and cold hard truths. The one time he almost, almost caved into Valentino's whims.

With a shaky breath, Vox stomped down on as much of his weakness as he could and turned away from you. "It's not important."

"Like hell, it's not," you frowned as you reached toward him, only to pause as he flinched at the tone in your voice.

It was obvious there was a whole new can of worms to handle and most likely a moth to strangle. But you steady yourself and take a deep breath, deciding to take things one step at a time.

"I'm sorry for leaving," you start slowly as you sit properly on the floor with Vox. "I was scared and angry and processing everything. I needed space. But I should have at least texted you back or checked in. I didn't..." your voice wavers. "I didn't think that..."

"It's fine," Vox sighed. "I get it. What I don't get is why you're here. Why did you come back?"

"I was always going to come back," you say as you reach towards him slowly. Your heart ached to know he had genuinely started to believe you'd just abandon him, but given the pieces of the unsettling image of what happened while you were gone, you understood where it was coming from.

Vox looks at you and hesitates before he leans into your touch and lets you cup the side of his face. "I was angry and hurt and scared," you admit. "I needed time to process my feelings. I didn't want to say something I'd regret."

You shake your head and chuckle, "I'd say I should have known better, but this is our first big fight now that I think about it. It's uncharted territory for us both."

Vox was silent as he slowly reached up and took your hand. He let out a shaky breath as he looked down. "I've... any connection I've had with someone. It's never... survived this sort of thing. Once shit hits the fan, that tends to be the end of it. I thought... I thought you were gone for good."

"I won't let you think that ever again," you say as you cup the other side of his face with your free hand. You make him look at you, but you're gentle. "We'll talk about this. I'm in this for the long run, you dorky TV man."

"But I tricked you," Vox shook. His face flickered between heartbreak and frustration. "I stole your soul. You have no reason to fucking t̵͍͌r̸̰̈u̵͉̍s̸̯͛ẗ̶̫ me."

"I love you," you say without hesitation. Vox's eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to retort, but you shake your head and stop him. "You did a bad thing. You did break my trust. But I know why you did it. Loving you doesn't mean I'll forgive you every time you cross a major boundary, but it does mean that I will do whatever it takes to worth through the bullshit together," you say softly.

Your thumb swipes over Vox's screen as you feel him tremble in your hold. "You're worth that effort to me, Vox."

"Why?" Vox asked as his eyes darted over your face as if the answer to his confusion would be found there. He didn't understand. How could you come back? How could you want to forgive him? How could you be here in front of him, looking like he was the one who hung the stars in the sky rather than the one who drew souls to their doom like a siren song on a screen?

You kiss his forehead and pull him close as he shakes harder in your arms. "W̸̻͝h̴͖̒y̵̞̍?̵̝̕"

His claws dig into the back of your shirt as he hangs onto you like a lifeline. "I̵ ̷d̴o̶n̵'̶t̶.̴.̶.̵," Vox growls in frustration at the emotion that sticks in his throat. "I can't... I don't d̷e̴s̶e̷r̷v̴e̷ this."

"Because loving you has never been about what either of us deserves," you sigh as you kiss his head. "It's because despite everything, I know I could never replace you. So I'm willing to put in the work if you are."

A broken sob ripped itself from Vox's chest unwillingly as he held you tighter. Your heart broke, knowing this very well could be the first time anyone had actually tried to stick around after any of his fuck-ups. You held him close, rubbing his back as he worked through his emotions. You were there for him as he glitched and let out an anguished scream as everything he'd been holding in for so long finally poured out.

You don't know how long it is before he finally calms down. He looks up at you and you know his eyes would be bloodshot from the breakdown if that was how his screen functioned. He let out a deep breath and you smiled softly as he cupped your cheek.

"This isn't the first time I've thought you didn't belong down here," Vox admitted. His voice was hoarse from exhaustion and the pure angst session some cruel fucker decided would be entertaining to put him through. If he ever found that bitch, he'd wrangle her neck.

You laugh as you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes as you finally see the familiar spark in his eyes for the first time since you'd come back. "Nah, you know heaven wouldn't know the first thing about how to put up with my shit."

Vox barked out a tired laugh. "Damn right, they wouldn't. You're a menace."

"Yeah," you giggle as you press a kiss to his cheek. "But I'm your menace."

Vox reached up, his fingers tangling softly in your hair as he brought you in for a proper kiss. "Yeah. You're my menace. And I love you, more than anything."

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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another-lost-mc · 5 months

Text

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x reader #obey me x reader #gn!reader #x reader

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hannyoontify · 4 months

Text

little stars - kwon soonyoung

member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader

genre | fluff, newly est. relationship

word count | 2k with some change

synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before

warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference

notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful

Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.

(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)

So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.

It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor.

He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response.

“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…”

In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.

The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan.

While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.

Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.

“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face.

You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.

Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”

You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”

Soonyoung nodded sympathetically.

“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.

“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.

(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)

Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.

You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan.

“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow.

Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”

Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”

“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”

He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face.

You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.

“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”

You snorted.

“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.

“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”

“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”

“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.

Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”

His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.

Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”

“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.

You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend.

Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.

You thought your heart was about to burst.

Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder.

Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart.

After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”

Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”

Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.”

You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love

“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you.

Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars.

“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?

“I love you.”

Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet.

You did.

“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”

“Hm?”

“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

#hannyoontify.works #caratlibrary #seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #hoshi #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #hoshi drabble #hoshi svt #soonyoung fluff #seventeen imagines #soonyoung scenarios #queued

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uncouth-the-fifth · 15 days

Text

i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.

Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”

It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.

And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.

Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.

You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”

“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.

The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.

Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”

The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.

She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”

The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.

He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”

But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”

Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”

The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”

Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.

“Look out!” She stage-whispers.

Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.

“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”

All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.

Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?

You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”

He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.

“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”

…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.

You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”

“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.

You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.

“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”

You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.

“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”

Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.

He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.

…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”

He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.

A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”

“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”

Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”

The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.

For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.

“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”

Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.

He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”

You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.

You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.

“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”

All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.

A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”

Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!

#leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy/reader #leon kennedy x reader #uncouthre #leon kennedy #resident evil #user uncouth

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heartbreakgrill · 9 months

Text

stiles stilinksi: breakable heaven; pt. 1, “fever dream high in the quiet of the night, you know that i caught it.”

description: situationship x stiles stilinksi?? fuck yeah. this part is really long and honestly is just setting the story up, so just expect tension, pining, and silliness. part two soon! enjoy xo

OTHER STORY PARTS linked here.

“someone needs to sex me right now!”

danny slams his locker shut, fed up with stiles’ griping and groaning about his lack of sexual experiences. he knows he should just mind his business, but part of him felt bad for stiles. he wasn't an ugly guy. loud, annoying, and dramatic? yes. but, nonethless, danny knew what it was like to feel unwanted, ugly. stiles deserved to experience that validation. besides, maybe getting laid would chill him out a bit.

“okay,” danny leanes against his locker, annoyance and exasperation in his tone.

stiles turns towards him around, curious, “really?”

danny examines stiles’ eager response, and realizes the younger boy thinks they’ve just made a sex pact. danny cringes, “ew, absolutely not. you are not my type.”

stiles falters, eyes falling from danny's. “aw. okay.”

danny furrows his brows. stiles was...so very unique. he almost drops the subject. but, then, as stiles goes to turn back towards scott, danny sighs, garnering his attention again. “i do have a friend.”

stiles perks up again, the light glinting up his brown, mischievous eyes. “oh? a friend? a girl space friend? not some little twink, right? you mean, like, a female woman?”

danny nods with a slight roll of his eyes. “yes, dumbass, a girl space friend. my friend got her heart broke over the summer, so she’s not looking for anything serious. she just wants to hang. and, i think she’d be into you.”

stiles grabs scott by the shoulders and shakes his friend around like they have just won the state championship. scott is thrown off balance, and grabs at the lockers beside him for support. danny pats stiles’ shoulders as he passes by.

“i’ll send your her number," is his closing statement. it seals the deal for stiles.

he breaks out into a dance, shaking his fists in the air, wiggling his little hips. “i’m gonna get laid,” he sings out with his eyes squeezed shut from the width of his grin. “i’m gonna have seeeeeeex!”

scott, balanced on his feet now, shifts his backpack between shoulders. “stiles?” he calls out, intruding his friend’s celebration.

stiles cannot hear him. so, scott grabs stiles by the shoulders, facing him with seriousness in his tone. “stiles!”

scott has always been supportive of any opportunity for stiles to lose his v-card. although, this time, it seems his friend is only obsessing over the idea of not being murdered, rather than actually losing his virginity. anyways, scott had always thought it would happen with someone stiles cared about, like lydia, or another girl he would develop a relationship with. not some one night stand. not something this casual. he wants to express his concern, knowing his friend is vulnerable and easily tainted.

stiles is shocked by scott's loud voice, taken out of his trance involuntarily. “what?!”

the bell rings. scott, a newfound academia, begins to pull stiles along with him through the hallway, so they’re not late to chemistry. he wraps his arm around stiles’ shoulder, “do you seriously think that you-“ he pokes his chest, “stiles stilinksi, can just chill with a girl?”

stiles winces at scott’s finger and rubs his chest after it retracts. “first of all- ouch!” he groans, “second of all, yes! i think i can just chill.”

he puffs his chest, straightens his jacket dramatically. all mannerisms he exhibits within this second after his proclamation guarantee that he, stiles stilinksi, can not, in fact, just chill.

stiles brushes past scott, leading the way into chemistry class. scott watches from the door as his friend slides into his seat, dumping his backpack on the floor, flicking his head at lydia across the room. she purses her lips and looks away. stiles slouches in his seat. scott didn’t need a werewolves intuition to see so plainly that stiles would get his heart broken.

Danny: hey stiles. here's y/n's number. don't hurt her or i stg ill beat ur ass. enjoy ;)

—

"danny, why the fuck are you selling me off like some pimp?"

danny flinches at the sound of her voice, looking up from his phone with a wary expression. he didn't exactly get his friend's permission to give away her phone number. but, at this point, he didn't really care. he loved her, but the poor girl needed dick more than a camel in the desert needed water. she kept claiming she'd have a hot girl summer- which turned into get augusted by some stupid college boy. and, the fall was already starting. he knew she wouldn't make it through senior year without human touch. she was starting to shrivel away into nothingness.

danny, leaned up against his locker, rolled his eyes as y/n came to a halt in front of him. "girl, be for real."

she crossed her arms, "you be for real, bitch! i did not ask for some junior boy to be stinking up my line with his horny ass!" y/n waved her phone in front of his face.

danny grabbed the device from her and read aloud the text stiles had sent her. "hey, there! this is stiles stilinski. you probably don't know me, but we have a mutual friend, danny. gay danny, not republican, sophomore danny. anyways, gay danny told me you were dtf? we should totally hook up sometime! let me know, and we can chill or something!"

"oh, my god," y/n smashed her face into her hands, redder than the stripes on danny's t-shirt. "who the fuck texts like that? that is so- oh, my god. i'm gonna block him."

danny quickly shut down the idea, "no, no, no! i know this message makes him seem like a literal incel. but stiles is cute! he's kinda sweet. i mean, ive known him since he was on the jv team four years ago. he's kinda awkward and a little weird, but i think you'd like him."

she looked at her friend with a cringed expression. "i trust and love you so much. but this...this text message is a giant red flag."

"okay, valid," danny pointed, handing her back her phone. "man, i was really hoping this would work out. listen...why don't you at least meet him? come to the lacrosse game tonight. i'll introduce you guys afterwards. maybe i'll organize a little post-game outing to the diner or something."

y/n shrugs throughout danny's idea. but, she eventually relaxes her shoulders, and becomes a little more willing. "i mean...i guess. but, do not leave me alone with him! please! i do not want to end up on dateline."

"girl, please, he couldn't harm a fly. he's got arms the size of spaghetti noodles."

y/n giggled at danny's description. "i keep trying to picture him in my mind, but i just can't. do you have a pic?"

"he was in our english class last year, but he had a buzz cut then-"

"red flag."

"shut up," danny shoved her arm. "here," he whips out his phone and finds stiles' instagram. there's a bunch of pictures of his jeep, and y/n doesn't hesitate to point out how this, too, is a red flag. to which danny replies, "the color of anything doesn't matter when y'all are fucking."

danny finally swipes enough on stiles' recent post to find one of him and scott, at an amusement park or something a few weeks ago. they have their arms around each other's shoulders and are both throwing up peace signs. y/n sees scott first and recognizes him, "he's the co-captain, right? he glew up, for real."

danny nods in agreement, "yeah, but this one's stiles."

he zooms in with his thumb and pointer finger. stiles grin and his sweet brown eyes catches y/n's gaze. she smiles at the sight, "aw, okay. yeah, he's adorable. i'll meet him."

y/n and danny are unaware, but scott and stiles are at the end of the hallway, whooping and hollering at the plans they haven't even been made directly aware of. scott is still feeling wary for his friend, but stiles can't think of anything at all when he lays his eyes on her.

sure, the thoughts he's having are impure, like how she'd look naked, under him, with her lips plump and ripe from his teeth. but, he's also thinking about how beautiful she is.

nothing about this situation was going to end up casual. in fact, it would probably end in flames.

—

y/n attended lacrosse games every once and a while, in support of her cousin, issac, and danny. she normally had to work, but she managed to get her coworker to switch shifts with her. she wasn’t a sports kinda gal, but it was fun to be an active teenager every once a while. danny let her borrow his away jersey, and she wore that over a long sleeves shirt. it was three sizes too big, but it helped her stay warm, considering it was freezing outside.

y/n went with three other’s in their loose friend group: megan and leo, the longterm straight couple, and jack. they found seats towards the back, and huddled in with the rest of the crowd. y/n caught danny’s gaze from the bench. he was adjusting his gloves, and y/n waved crazily when she saw him.

danny waved back, wide grin on his face. he glanced around the bench, in search of something or someone. then, he perked up at the sight of another player. he glanced back at y/n, and pointed at the boy.

“stiles,” danny mouthed.

y/n stood up, and followed danny’s line of sight. sure enough, stiles was standing in front of the bench, a few people down from danny. he was talking quickly, throwing his hands about like a madman. she recognized scott sitting to the left of him, half-listening to his friend. then, scott seemed to feel her gaze on the two of them. he grabbed at stiles arms, telling him something. stiles quickly looked towards danny, who glanced back at y/n.

stiles followed danny’s turn of head, and met her eyes. her hand, still raised from saying hello to danny, waved towards stiles. he blushed, a deep red color, and smiled this dopey, puppy dog grin. he moved about himself, unsure of what to do. somehow, he stepped on his helmet, and fell to the ground.

scott looked back at y/n, squeezed his eyes shut in utter disappointment at his friend, and hung his head low. he leaned down, grabbed stiles by the collar, and landed the boy back on his feet. y/n met danny’s eyes, pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t burst out giggling. danny covered his mouth, and his shoulders shook with laughter.

stiles quickly sat himself down, avoiding y/n’s gaze. he was embarrassed, and sure she was making a cringed face at him. but, he didn’t know that she was grinning as she sat. her eyes were glinting.

the game started shortly after, and it ended almost as quickly as it had begun. it was close, and the wolves almost lost. but, luckily, the boys managed to even out the score, and dug the other team a shallow grave.

y/n found herself cheering for her school’s team throughout the game. she quickly learned stiles number, and watched him, along with danny, dart around the field. he was pretty good, though he was tiny. he was taller than average, and that gave him some advantage against other players. plus, being skinny made him fast. he had made a few scores, and y/n whooped and hollered in response.

meanwhile, stiles found himself looking towards her seat throughout the game. she had a really infectious smile, and, damn, she was loud. at times, he could hear her voice over everybody else.

after the game, the crowd dispersed, and the team lingered on the field to not only hear coaches closing speech, but to celebrate with friends and family members. y/n, jack, leo, and megan climbed down the bleachers and crowded towards danny. his family hadn’t made it that evening.

y/n found herself nervous to formally meet stiles. she had replied to his text message earlier, informing him of danny’s idea for them to meet. she didn’t address the half of his message that was weird and kind of cryptic. she didn’t really want to think of that big ick.

anyways, seeing him in real life, in his cute little lacrosse uniform, polished his reputation up just a bit. danny was right, it didn’t really matter what his personality was like if they were just gonna fuck. but, y/n still wanted him to be a decent person. they’d have to hang out just a little bit. and she’d rather not have to sit through his apparent need to rant frequently if those rambles were about stupid, gross things.

danny saw his friends and his face lit up. he jogged the small distance to y/n, who pumped her fists in the air with excitement. danny embraced her tightly, lifting her off her feet.

“good job, dan!” she cheered in his ear, squeezing him around his shoulders. up in the air, y/n spotted stiles a little ways behind them. he was chatting with scott, an older woman, and the sheriff. he caught her gaze and stumbled over his words. he raised his hand in a short wave. y/n simply smiled in response before squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her chin into danny’s neck. he set her back on her feet. then, he celebrated with their other friends, too.

megan and leo left right after greeting danny because she had to work in the morning. but, jack hung around with them. he and y/n didn’t speak much. they just hung out with the same group of people. and, hanging out usually just meant getting high in danny’s basement or going on group dates to the movies.

“dude, that was a sick game!”

y/n tried to pretend like she knew what jack and danny were talking about, or that she was even remotely interested in the topic of conversation. she tried to strain her gaze over danny’s shoulder without seeming obvious. stiles was cute. like, super cute.

the conversation continued for a few seconds before someone interrupted it.

scott wrapped his arm around danny’s shoulder, squeezing the older boy into his side. scott was weirdly strong. then, stiles appeared at danny’s other shoulder. his cheeks were flush red, from both the game, and the pretty girl standing in front of him, who he was supposed to have sex with. he tried to seem nonchalant, cool. but he was sweating, from both of the same causes, again. y/n tried not to act like it was affecting her, the way his brown hair swooped down over his forehead due to the sweat. she tried to, also, not stare at his puffy lips as he spoke, swollen from chewing on them during the game. he was incredibly passionate about everything. especially teasing danny.

“aye, danny boy, good job out there tonight!” stiles ruffled danny’s hair.

the older boy knocked stiles’ shoulder with his own. “watch it, stilinksi.”

y/n, a pretty confident, witty person, interjected the conversation, “since when is it danny boy? i thought it was gay danny?”

stiles, who had been trying to play it cool, sucked both of his lips between his teeth. “oh, that’s funny, actually- you know, i- that’s crazy-“ his voice cracked. he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

y/n giggled, “i’m kidding. gay danny is hilarious.”

danny grinned between his two friends. “i think it’s rather hilarious, too.” he moved out from beneath stiles and scott’s arms. “don’t you, stiles? hey, let me know if you’re dtf?”

danny stood beside y/n, who hit him with her hand. scott, who was a little out of the loop, dropped his jaw. “oh, stiles,” he groaned, head falling back, “dude, please do not tell me you said that!”

he looked towards his best friend, who placed his hand on his hip, and glared at the turf. “you know…words are-“

“dude!” scott shoved stiles shoulders. “you’re a fucking idiot!”

stiles faltered on his feet, using his lacrosse stick to balance himself. “okay, i don’t want to hear it from you! please tell me the last charming thing you said to a girl?!”

y/n intruded again, “how about, hello, how are you? nice to meet you, my name is stiles?”

stiles finally met y/n’s eyes. she looked anticipatory, brows raised slightly, teeth over her bottom lip. he licked his own, dry lips, falling over his words. this never really happened. he always had something to say. and now, he was speechless.

their gaze didn’t falter for a few moments, as y/n waited for the boy to say something. he didnt, so she stuck out her hand, “hello, how are you? my names y/n, nice to meet you!”

stiles stared at her hand, her pretty hand, just hanging there in the space between them. scott hit him over the back of the head with his lacrosse stick. stiles tripped over his feet. he balanced himself out and finally shook her hand.

“nice to meet you,” he nodded. “i’m stiles.”

“is that short for anything?” y/n asked, stepping closer. danny and scott busied themselves to the side with jack, trying to give the two potential lovebirds a moment alone.

stiles moved a little closer, too, until there was only a foot or two between them. y/n was really good at maintaining eye contact, but that made stiles nervous. he glanced around her face, trying not to stare at her lips, or her nose, or her rounded cheeks.

“it’s short for Mieczyslaw,” stiles scratched the back of his head, embarrassed by his weird name.

“oh, no way! that’s my grandpas name!” y/n replied.

stiles perked up, “really? that’s- that’s cool.”

“it’s actually david,” y/n widened her eyes amusedly, “i thought it would be funny to say it was Mieczyslaw. but i don’t know how that’s funny. it’s just david. his names david.”

she laughed nervously. her gaze faltered from stiles. the corner of his lips quirked up. that was his kind of humor. he chuckled, somewhat dryly due to his nerves, and said, “it is funny. i liked it. it’s funny.”

“usually when someone has to say something’s funny, it’s not,” y/n crinkled her nose. her hands were crossed in front of her, fingers slick with nervous sweat. he was making her so nervous and shy. unusual.

stiles shrugged off the fact she had stated, “i don’t think so. i think it’s still funny.”

they shared a longer gaze, words absent from both of their minds. stiles rubbed his lips together and waited for his brain to formulate some kind of sentence. y/n smiled, slowly, okay with the silence.

“hey, guys,” danny intruded their moment, “we’re gonna go get changed, then head to my house, yeah? scott’s gonna invite allison. maybe lydia, but i doubt she’ll come.”

stiles and y/n looked to danny, sweet little smiles swallowing expressions. danny couldn’t help but grin. this had to be one of his best ideas, ever.

“okay, sounds good,” y/n nodded. she looked back to stiles, awaiting his answer.

he followed her lead, “yeah, yeah, awesome. we’ll meet you there?”

“well,” danny shook his head slightly, “i was gonna drive scott. and, then, jack, you know, plus if allison comes…my cars kinda full.”

“wha- scot-“ stiles looked towards his best friend, betrayed by scott’s willingness to ride with someone else. then, he met scott’s eyes, and understood the matchmaking game that was being played.

y/n glanced at stiles, who was nodding nervously. “yeah, okay. do you- would you wanna ride with me, y/n?”

“yeah,” she smiled, “i’ll ride with you.“

y/n, jack, and allison hung out outside the boys’ locker room while they showered and changed. y/n texted her mom to let her know she’d be getting home late. then, she shut her phone off and shoved it in her jeans pocket. allison met her eyes from the bench across the hallway.

“i feel like we’ve never hung out,” y/n smiled.

allison shrugged with a shy grin, “i don’t really hang out with many people. my family’s…weird.”

“it’s okay, mine, too,” y/n giggled. “we can trauma dump later, yeah?”

allison nodded, “i’d love that.”

“so, are you and scott together?” y/n wriggled her brows suggestively.

allison blushed, pulling her gaze to her hands in her lap. she fidgeted with her fingers. “uh, no, not anymore. we- uh, just, it’s complicated.”

“ah, i see,” y/n narrowed her eyes playfully.

allison looked back up to the girl and furrowed her brows, “what about you? i thought you were seeing sam? sam collins? i saw you guys together over the summer.”

y/n shifted in her seat, her throat tightening at the thought of sam collins. “yeah, we- were? i guess. i don’t know, it was a whole situation. i’ll tell you all about later when we do that trauma dumping.”

allison offered a supportive smile, “sounds like a deal.”

scott, stiles, and danny piled out of the locker room doors, backpacks and lacrosse bags slung over their shoulders. they barely made it through the frame.

danny rounded up his carload, quickly leaving y/n and stiles in the dust so they were forced to be alone. he had texted her before showering, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable with the idea they had entrapped her and stiles in. in response, she had said, “he’s CUTE!”

y/n stood from the bench, sighing slightly. “looks like we’re stuck together.”

stiles, who had gotten a pep talk from scott, was a little calmer. he waved his arm out in front of himself, “ah, can’t be the worst thing. lead the way.”

y/n grinned up at him. standing this close to him, in this small space, she noticed two things. one- he smelled really fucking good. and, two, he was so fucking tall.

y/n walked out in front of him. she crossed her arms in front of herself again, a nervous habit. once they walked out of the school, their steps fell into rhythm beside each other. stiles wanted to make conversation, and y/n did, too. but the anticipation, the hesitance, the nerves. it all took up too much space.

once they reached stiles’ blue jeep, he opened the door for her, which was slightly shocking. he tossed his bag in the back before joining her in the front. y/n found words as the car started and music playing, a little louder than normal, from the speakers. stiles turned it down, cursing and apologizing.

“what kind of music do you listen to?” y/n turned in her seat, so her knees were facing him. she placed her elbow on the arm rest, chin balanced atop her fist. stiles glanced at her, and his words stumbled.

she was pretty.

“oh, you know. your basic stuff. the 1975. backseat lovers. noah kahan. wallows,” stiles listed off a few.

“hm,” y/n replied. “alright, i can get behind that.”

stiles chuckled, “oh, yeah? what about you? you seem like a music snob.”

y/n scoffed, “absolutely not. i listen to everything and anything. even country. love taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, one direction, chappell roan.”

“i have heard of two of those artists,” stiles furrowed his brows. “literally who is chapel ro-han ?”

y/n rolled her eyes, “roan! here, give me your phone. i’ll play something by her.”

“no, wait, play some taylor,” stiles dug his phone out and handed it to y/n. “i respect swifties.”

“i feel like you’d be a swiftie,” y/n murmured as she scrolled through spotify. green flag, even though the 1975 was a blaring red one.

y/n, feeling slightly risky, played one of taylor’s more promiscuous songs- dress.

“i would be a swiftie, but i think my masculinity gets in the way,” stiles shrugged. he turned up the music a little bit. “i’ve never heard this one.”

“probably,” y/n giggled at his comment. “this is dress. it’s off the reputation album.”

“what’s your favorite album of hers?”

conversation came so naturally. y/n felt comfortable.

“oh, god, don’t ask me that,” y/n groaned. she rested stiles’ phone on her knee. “probably…reputation, to be honest. it’s some of her best work. but, lover is definitely second.”

“is that one a bunch of love songs, i take it?” stiles was really good at asking questions.

y/n shook her head, “it’s actually a bunch of heartbreak songs. people get confused because of the title. reputation has more love songs.”

“like this one?” stiles seemed to notice some of the lyrics.

y/n pursed her lips, “maybe. this one’s more of a fuck song than a love song.”

“ah, yes, there is a distinct difference.”

“oh, for sure.”

they shared a hearty laugh. stiles continued to ask questions, seemingly very interested in not only taylor swift, but y/n herself. she enjoyed his willingness to make conversation.

they made it to danny’s after two more songs. they pulled in right behind danny’s car, and watched the group pile out of his car. as stiles shut off the jeep, y/n reached for her door handle.

“wait-“ stiles jumped out of the car, and quickly rounded to her side. he opened the door, and offered her his hand.

y/n furrowed her brows. she’d seen a lot of boys do a lot to get laid. but, stiles was taking it to the extreme. stiles noticed her faltered look and motioned her with his outstretched hand.

“if we’re gonna fuck, i’m not gonna act like a dick. you deserve some basic human decency.”

literally bare fucking minimum- don’t worry, ladies, y/n is aware. but, god that melted her heart. his sweet brown eyes offered up the nicest smile.

she placed her hand in his and carefully stepped out of the jeep. it was a little higher off the ground than she was used to.

stiles shut the door behind her. he fell into step beside y/n as they walked into danny’s house. danny led the group to his basement, which was also his room. shockingly, it smelled a little bit like weed, and was dimly lit by led lights and lamps scattered across the room. his bed was against the farthest wall, and he had a common area surrounding a television right off the landing.

y/n plopped onto the first couch, and she patted the spot beside her for stiles. he followed suit, and yelped as he noticed how broken in the piece of furniture was. his shoulder squished into y/n’s, along with his hip, as he was tilted by the couch. she giggled at his clumsiness, steadying him with a hand on his knee.

stiles went red hot under her touch. it was warm, through the thin material of his sweatpants. and she didn’t take it away. no, y/n, confident in her advances, left her hand on his knee. stiles took that in stride, and swung his arm around the back of the couch, fingers inches away from her shoulders. she smelled sweet, like some fruity, beachy perfume.

scott and allison sat on the couch to their left, and jack found his usual spot on the oversized chair. danny was busying himself at the television console, flicking on netflix. he put on some random movie for background noise, and then proceeded to pass around his dab pen. jack took a couple hits, surprisingly, allison did as well. scott was shocked by the latter fact, and even more surprised when she told him she took edibles sometimes for her nerves.

stiles politely refused the weed, but y/n gratefully took a few hits. it loosened her shoulders almost immediately and made her flirtations a million times more present.

she curled her legs up beneath her on the couch, her knees landing in stiles lap. he shifted his legs beneath her, clearing his throat nervously. if someone had told him, this morning, that he’d be losing his virginity so soon- oh, god.

y/n started up a conversation that was separate from the groups. they started up a game of mario kart, while y/n was asking stiles about his favorite movies. it was hard to think with her warm breath fanning across his cheek, down his neck. and, then, she was toying with the string on his hoodie, staring up at him through her pretty lashes. her pupils were dilated from being high, and she was giggly.

stiles was beyond happy.

especially when she demanded she show him something in the other room.

“you said you like tabletop games, right? danny’s brother runs tournaments with his friends. cmon, i’ll show you!” y/n stood up, offering stiles her hand.

he didn’t hesitant to lace his fingers with hers. she drug him along behind her, quickly bee-lining for the other room in the basement. y/n flicked on a light switch, but all it really did was turn on more lamps and the string of leds across the ceiling. yes, stiles was incredibly interested by the shelves of books, knick-knacks, and the large gaming table in the center of the room.

but he didn’t really care about any of that.

because she was holding his hand, rambling about danny’s younger brother, and holding his hand. stiles just listened to her describe luke, how he was like a younger brother.

then, she noticed stiles was just staring at her. her words faltered and she trailed off. “what? am i boring you?”

“no, no, never,” stiles stepped closer, and squeezed her hand to encourage her. “i’m just…you’re really pretty. and you’re holding my hand. and i’m thinking about fucking stupid my text was, from earlier? i’m a dumb ass.”

“stiles,” y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re a really cute dumb ass. don’t worry about the text. to answer your question, though, yes.”

“yes, what?” stiles thought he knew what she meant, but he was unsure. he wanted to hear her say it.

“yes, i’m down to fuck you.”

oh, god. his knees went weak.

y/n grabbed his other hand, tugging him towards her slightly. something in her demeanor, her expression, changed. her look was darker, pointed, intentional. stiles found some courage and slid his hand up her wrist, up her forearm, over her bicep, and around the back of her neck. he brushed her hair away. as they moved closer, she leaned her head back to meet his eyes, and her head fell into his hand.

she grinned up at him, and the look made him chuckle dryly. “what?” she asked, insecurities drawing out despite her pointed confidence.

“just…so pretty,” stiles replied. using his other hand, stiles brushed the hair from her cheek, and cupped his palm around the curve of her face.

slowly, but surely, they kissed.

#stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #void stiles #derek x stiles #stiles x lydia #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader

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bangchansgirlsblog · 7 months

Note

9th member getting in a bad fight w skz (v v v angsty)

Hit me where it hurts.

Warning: very traumatizing, read at your own risk!

Pairing: skz x 9th member

Summary: friends fight all the time but eventually get back together right?

!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!

You will hate me after this but I love you 😆Enjoy!

-🩷

My body stumbles into the dorm rooms. A giggle leaves my mouth. My vision was blurry, no doubt there. The room was spinning but in a good way.

The scent of a good home cooked meal filled my nostrils as I sat on the floor and removed my tied shoes.

Another giggle escapes my mouth as I get up and fall down on my bum.

“Y/n? Is that you?” A voice calls that makes me jump a little. I look up to see leeknow walking into the little entrance of the dorms.

“Heyyy Oppa,” my words slur as I get up again slightly sliding but able to balance.

He looks at me examining my body. He was wearing sweatpants and a white hoodie. His glasses were on too meaning he was cooking. He stood there arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Have you been drinking again?” His voice is calm yet harsh.

“Maybe,” I simply say before giggling again and walking past him making my way to the living room.

His body turns with mine as he follows behind continuing the conversation.

“Are you fucking serious? We talked about this.” His tone was getting louder and I didn’t like it at all. I stopped and looked at him. His face a few inches away from mine.

“But Oppa I thought you said you would support me in everything I do,” I tilt my head and bite my lip. Slowly a smirk crips up. “Don’t you like seeing me happy?” I hiccup.

He takes a step back and I frown, “You’ve been coming home drunk for the past two weeks! What is wrong with you? We’ve been worried sick!” He growls quite literally. His face turning red and his arms crossed.

“Okay but what’s the big deal I had a little to drink, whatever,” I roll my eyes and turn my body to continue walking to the living room.

His hand grabs mine. I squirm a little trying to make him let go. “Let go Leeknow your hurting me,”

“Look at yourself Y/n! Just look! You’re a fucking mess!” His voice is loud now. Filled with anger and running through out the house. His towering over me. Making me feel small.

“Leeknow I said let go of me now!” I yelp but he doesn’t. His breathing is heavy and his looking at me with dark eyes. Filled with hurt and anger.

“Your killing yourself-“

I cut him off. Not even bothering to listen to the long speech he was about to give because what was the point? We had been going through this for the past week. The same old boring ass speech.

“I don’t fucking care! You didn’t care about me before now why all of a sudden you care about me now huh? Huh?! You’re a monster, you and all the boys are!” I’m now yelling at the top of my voice. His hand lets go shocked at my reaction. He steps back trying to process what I was trying to say. His eyes searching my face.

“What do you mean I didn’t care? Who was fucking there for you when you got eliminated? Who was h there for you when you broke your ankle? Who the fuck was there for you the nights you couldn’t learn a choreography? Huh? Who the fuck was there for you when your mum disowned you? Stop being a fucking little bitch about everything and running away from your problems. Face them! Face them instead of drinking them away!”

“Don’t you ever talk about my mother again leeknow,” my voice is low, anger laced all over it. It almost comes out as venom.

His stood in-front of me, his hands are in a fist. Why was his hand in a fist? Was he going to hit me? What was he trying to do?

“If you going to fucking hit me, hit me! Hit me leeknow-“

I step closer to his body. My finger poking at his chest and he clenched his jaw. The world is still spinning and the room is dim.

“Hey! What the fuck is going on?!” Hyunjin drops his phone on the ground and runs towards us. His hand automatically wrapping around my waist and pulling me away from leeknow who is huffing in anger. Trying to calm down.

“What the fuck Y/n?! Have you been drinking again?” Hyunjin asks me when he puts me down. His runs his hands through his hair as he starts to examine me. His eyes going back and forth between me and leeknow. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t,”

I go quiet but Leeknow Ofcourse had to step in.

“Yes she has been-“

“It doesn’t have to do with any of you!” I yell at him. I grab my jacket that laid on the floor and slightly stumble. Hyunjin is still processing what’s going on but leeknow still has a lot to say, I see it, I sense it.

“Yes the fuck it does because you promised you would stop! Look at the way you’re talking to leeknow! You can’t even see in a straight line for crying out loud!” Hyunjin’s outbursts caused me to snap back into reality.

“Why are you on my dick Hyunjin? Why are you alwyals in my business?! God! Ever since you came back from haitus you’ve been such a clingy bitch!” The words leave my mouth and my brain stops. I instantly regret what I had just said. I knew Hyunjin didn’t like his hiatus and it was the worst time in his life.

“Hyunjin’s I didn’t mean-“

“Are you serious? Are you serious right now y/n?” Leeknow cuts into the argument. His now walking towards both of us. His hands waving in the air as he speaks. “Why would you say such a thing to him? You know how sensitive that is!”

Hyunjin’s eyes start to shine, his lips turning into a frown then a scowl, “and ever since you were sexually assaulted you’ve been moping around like a bitch!” Hyunjin took a step away from me his hands were shaking. His voice is louder than ever. His body upward and straight.

The word hit me hard. My body starts to shake aswell. This was the biggest fight we had ever gotten into and we had just taken it on another level.

“Oh great then why don’t we all just leave eachother alone huh?!” I stumble back again, the alchohol getting to me as hard as the emotions were. “You know what? Fuck you leekmow, fuck you hyunjin!”

“That’s great because you know what?! Chan never wanted you in the group before! He just picked you cause you were a sad fucking trainee that nobody wanted in their team-“

“Hyunjin!” A voice yells and we all turn at Chan and Felix who are standing at the door. Obviously coming from outside. They were both wearing coats and beanies due to the coldness outside.

“I’m sorry! I had to say it, She’s a bitch!” He glares at me and then back at Chan “and I mean it, I can be a bitch to if I wanted too,” he spits at me.

I look at him in disbelief. My heart ached. My heart ached so much I couldn’t help but hold my chest.

“Where the fuck have you been Y/n? So you know me and Felix have been walking out in the cold for hours looking for you?!” I look up at Chan who is now in the same area as us. Leeknow still standing there pissed off trying to calm down.

“Why would you? Because I’m a sad little girl that needs saving?!” I scoff when I reply to Chan. His face falls, so does Felix’s. My Han trying to support my weight as I watch everyone in the room glaring at me.

Was this even real? Was I even real?

“Are you drunk Y/n?” He looks at me, eyes wide opened. His hands turn into a fist as well. His jaw tensed up.

“Ask your little fucking friends that you wanted,” I scoff and turn my back on them starting to walk out the door. I fall to the ground (quite literally) and put on my shoes. Then get up. The boys all watching in shock trying to figure out what to do.

“Where are you going?!” Chan yells, “running away from your problems won’t solve anything! Y/n! Stop!” His shouts are getting louder as I open the door not bothering to listening to him.

“I’m going somewhere fucking away from you and your pathetic little team! Chan leave me the fuck alone.” Everything goes quiet as I unlock the door but the glass shattering causes me to turn and look at their direction.

Pieces of glass laid in front of them. The handle of the face still in Chan’s hand.

“Good go away and don’t come back all you do is cause us problems!”

“Hyung!” Felix gasps and grabs his arm trying to calm him down. “Don’t say that! Ever-body just please calm down and let’s talk about it-“

“I didn’t want to be in the group in the first place!”

“We all didn’t want you either but look where we both are!”

“Hyung stop!” Felix puts his hand over his mouth. “That’s not true! Look at you guys.” His eyes tears up as he looks at me. My heart breaks. “Y/n just come back inside and let’s talk about it okay?”

“Let her go Felix, she’s pathetic anyway.” Hyunjin says as he turns around to walk back to his room.

I slam the front door and run up the apartments stairs. I need to get away for a moment. I needed to think. I stumble through out until I get to the roof stop.

I take a deep breath and find my legs swinging off the edge. I look down to say the busy street.

When did life get this busy? This out of control?

I had to deal with a lot. I couldn’t anymore. I wouldn’t. If the boys didn’t want me anymore then I had no one.

Hot tears run down my cheeks. The pain in my chest aching even worse than before. The wind blew on my hair as I took a deep breath in and let myself go.

“No wait! Y/n!” I hear I.N’s scream. Instant regret fills my body but it’s to late. My body falling down the different floors, gasps and screams fill the street until everything goes quiet. My mind goes quiet.

Then end.

Y’all I feel so bad omg forgive me 😭

-🩷

PT 2:

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