#I’m sorry god I know It’s the worst man to be fixated on but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ave09 · 10 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do James Marshall x Female! Reader? The plot would consist of how they met, her support during the elections and the moment he becomes the president, inauguration day and their first night in the White House when he receives a threat from a terrorist?

sure! , i did my best for this one but i know literally nothing about politics and i severely apologize in advance because this might be the worst think i’ve written in my entire life 😭 but it is also the only version i could write that gave me satisfaction but i feel so bad holy shit

i hope you somewhat enjoy this, and i’d like to say that i totally didn't steal part of kennedy’s speech.. totally didn’t do that

president

james marshall x reader

“oh shit!”

“oh my gosh!”

hot coffee spilled down your front, staining the white blouse you wore. it burned slightly but cooled down surprisingly fast.

“i am so sorry,” the man who ran into said. you waved him off, “oh-it’s fine. it’s okay,” you glanced up, and was taken aback. he was by far one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

fluffy brown hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes, sharp jawline, a small scar adorning his chin. all these elements combined into the perfect man.

he was so attractive.

“i’ve ruined your shirt, dammit, i’m sorry.” “oh sir, it’s quite alright, i should’ve been looking where i was going-“

“i should’ve been looking too.”

an awkward silence engulfed you two, neither knowing what to say. the man pursed his lips, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, “uh.. would you, maybe, like to go out to dinner later?” he asked, quickly adding on, “so i can make it up to you, of course.”

you arched your brows, “so not a date?” you were surprisingly yourself now, never had you been so bold, especially not with this sort of man.

a smile toyed on his lips, “i mean… it could be a date, if you wanted it to be one.”

you remained silent, pulling your purse slightly off of your shoulder, retrieving a pen. you then gently took his wrist, “may i?”

the man seemed somewhat confused, but nodded. you pushed back his sleeve slightly, gently writing your number on his wrist.

“there, now you have my number.”

“i will definitely be giving it a call later.” he said with a light chuckle, “now, about dinner, say meet up here around seven?” you nodded, “sounds good to me. i’ll see you then.” you turned to go, only to feel the man grasp your wrist gently, whirling you around to face him again.

“i didn’t catch your name.”

“i didn’t throw it.” you said with a smile before saying your name. “that’s beautiful, it’s a pleasure to meet you, i’m james marshall.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

the two of you said your goodbyes before going your separate ways, assuring the other that they’d meet up here again later that evening.

little did you know that this little date would bloom into something extraordinary.

— — —

“that’s my husband!” you exclaimed to an empty household, your gaze fixated on the television before you.

there he was, james marshall, doing a campaign on live television!

you had never been so proud. after many years of marriage, he was finally achieving what he’d always claimed he’d do.

he was running for president, and you were certain he’d win.

“hell yeah!” you shouted, a smile on your lips.

he had so many good points, far better then some of his opponents. god, you were so proud.

the live campaign ended quickly, time seemed to fly by. you rose from your seat on the couch, you heard the sound of your phone ringing. surely this was james. you rushed to the kitchen where your purse hung on chair. you rummaged through the contents of your bag before retrieving your cell phone.

you answered immediately, lifting the device to your ear, “hello?”

“hi honey.”

you smiled, “hi! i just finished watching the campaign, you were phenomenal as always.”

“oh darling, you’re making me blush.” he said with a laugh. you took a seat at the kitchen table, “y’know, i don’t want to jinx anything, but i think you’re gonna win.” you stated. the man on the other end was quiet for a moment before he asked in a hush whispered, “you really think so?”

“i know so.”

— — —

turns out, you might’ve been a sort of seer or fortune teller, cause sure enough, just a few days after election day, you found yourself at home, tidying up the place for when james returned.

you knew he was on edge, considering the results of the election would be released soon. so you were trying to do all you could to make things easier.

suddenly, the front door was thrown open, revealing your husband with a bright grin upon his face, “turn on the television!” he exclaimed. “what-“

he rushed into the home, grabbing the remote off of the end table and turning on the television. he then stood beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his hazel eyes fixated onto the screen.

it was the news, on the screen was the chief of staff. it was time! they were going to announce who won!

you leaned against your husband, exhaling deeply as you stared at the smiling man on the television.

“it is my pleasure to announce that the president of the united states for the year 1993 is…”

the suspense was killing you. “just say it, dammit.” you mumbled.

“… james marshall!”

you let out a cheer, turning to your husband who’s eyes were wide with shock. “baby! you won!” you shouted, he let out a laugh of disbelief, “i won.”

“yes! you won!” you tugged on his red tie, jerking his head down slightly as you smashed his lips to his. this seemed to break him out of his initial shock, for he reciprocated the action with passion. he’d actually done it. he’d won!

the man pulled away, letting out a laugh before lifting you up, spinning you around thrice before setting you back onto the ground, kissing you again.

“we did it, baby, we did it!”

— — —

inauguration day. the very day you and your husband had been waiting for. you watched with teary eyes as your husband stood at the podium, for you were watching the love of your life become the president of the united states. and what an accomplishment that was.

“I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States..”

then came the time for his speech. you’d heard it about a million times. and every time he’d rehearsed it, he found something to critique. but you’d assured him that it sounded perfect the way it was.

james was back up at the podium, looking somewhat nervous. but then his hazel eyes found you smiling at him in the crowd, and suddenly everything seemed okay.

he cleared his throat, “we observe today not a victory of party but a celebration of freedom-symbolizing an end as well as a beginning-signifying renewal as well as change. for i have sworn before you and the Almighty God the same solemn oath our forbears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago..”

— — —

“so.. what do you think?” james asked, pulling back the comforter before climbing into bed beside you.

you didn’t know what to think. you’d always heard stories of the white house, but being here with your husband, the president, it all seemed so surreal.

“i think… it’s big. far bigger then anything we could ever imagine.” you said, snuggling up against his side. “a little to extravagant, huh?” you nodded, “but i think we can make it work.”

the man smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. these past few weeks had been crazy, and this was the first time in a long time that you’d had some time with one another.

your first night in the white house as the president and the first lady. it was a special night. james glanced down at you, only to find you gazing up at him. “what?” he asked softly.

“does a wife need an excuse to admire her husband?” james let out a chuckle, kissing your lips gently. your hand came to rest upon his cheek as his strong arms snaked their way around your waist, pulling you close. the kiss deepened, your lips dancing in sync with his.

just as the situation began to escalate, the sound of a phone ringing filled the air. it was coming from your husband’s government phone, which he was obligated to answer. the man let out a sigh, pulling away from you, reaching over to the nightstand to retrieve the device.

he answered it and lifted the device to his ear. “hello?”

you watched him, concern overcoming you as his brows furrowed and he sat up a little taller. “who is this?”

and just as sudden as the call had begun, it ended. james dropped the phone, throwing back the comforter before climbing out of bed, retrieving his navy robe.

“james? what was that?”

“a threat.”

your eyes widened, “a what?”

“a threat, i think. i’ve gotta go make some calls, see if the number can be traced.” he said, shoving the phone into his pocket before walking around the front of the bed to your side, pecking your lips softly.

“well, is everything okay-“

“everything’s gonna be fine, darling. i just need you to stay here.”

you nodded slowly, bidding him goodbye and watching him go.

sadly, this would not be the last time your husband would receive threats from terrorists.

but, that was the life of a president and his first lady.

#young harrison ford #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford #harrison ford movies #indiana jones x reader #han solo x reader #indiana jones #indiana jones and the temple of doom #han solo #james marshall x reader #air force one movie

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phobia-sweets · 1 year

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Ngl, feeling pretty anxious and sad at the moment, can I request a scene where the gender neutral reader (who is Scarecrow’s s/o) is being torn apart by anxious thoughts about everyone leaving them and dying alone and then be comforted by BTAS Scarecrow? Ps this reader needs lots of cuddles

Sorry if my ask is a bit depressing, I’ll completely understand if you don’t want to write about it. If you are going to write about it, by all means, take all the time you need!

aw, i hope you're feeling better already!! sending a virtual hug your way

I'm always open to write pretty much anything even if it isn't my strongsuit (so anything angsty and hurt/comfort) so i did my best. It turned out pretty short but i hope it's enough <3

BTAS! Scarecrow x reader

Warnings & Notes: could be ooc, not proofread

The anxiety pooling in your stomach made you feel like you were being buried alive. You felt an uncomfortable pressure as your thoughts raced. At worst, it felt like you were falling down from a high ledge, adrenaline spiking. Fear, anxiety, sadness.

Your boyfriend – Jonathan, was a busy man. He wasn’t a professor anymore, but making batches of fear toxin took time. That was fine, but at times it felt like he would leave you. Why? To work more. To terrorize more people. To-

You stopped yourself before you felt worse. With shaky hands you took your phone in your hand, looking at the time. three hours. He’s been in his lab for three hours. What if he left you already? While you were here, oblivious?

A weight dropped down next to you, dark eyes fixated on a book. Whatever book it was, you didn’t recognise it. Not that it mattered right now, anyway.

“What’s the matter?”

Ah. So your distress was noticed. Hiding emotions from an ex-professor of psychology never was easy. Sighing, you put your phone down on the couch. You didn’t look him in the eye. You just couldn’t.

“I’m anxious - Just Thinkin’ too much.” Jonathan had put his book down, now facing you fully. He was waiting for you to specify. “I just feel… scared. Scared you, or… everyone, might leave me.” No point in hiding it from him, you thought. “I don’t want to die alone, Jon.”

The silence after was almost deafening. It was like that until Jonathan broke the silence with a sigh. You felt his hand touch your face, slightly tilting it upwards so you were looking at him. His face was a bit puzzled, clearly thinking of how to word his response.

“I know whatever I might say might not help with your thoughts-” He looked unsure. He might’ve studied psychology for god knows how long, but this was clearly new to him. “But I hope you trust me when I say I won’t leave.”

Jonathan was a man that didn’t comfort people. He caused fear and terror, reveling in it. Having him try to comfort you on your anxiety, fear was something you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t heartless by any means, but you had sort of expected him to just look at you like one of his victims. You were glad that wasn’t the case.

#btas scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader

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anlian-aishang · 2 years

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I have a weakness for soft Levi with minimal romantic and sexual experience ^///^ if you feel inspired, a fic where Levi and femS/O are both inexperienced and very careful and aware of each other, and are very awkward trying to be comfortable in their relationship together. ( like S/o is nervously trying to hold hands, and levi just harshly takes her hand just as awkward, and no eye contact and just complete secondhand embarrassment triggering lol) bonus points for amused Hanji 😅 sfw or nsfw 💖

This is hands-down the most adorable Levi I have ever had the pleasure of writing. I had a lot of happiness writing this ^^ I hope it makes you smile, too!

Word count: 1200 Tags: levi x reader, fluff, humor, pining, canonverse, brief allusion to intercourse, fem!reader

What the hell was I thinking? Levi asked, mad at himself for walking into this humiliating situation, as he stood before his best friend Hange - though that title may soon be revoked if this teasing continued.

The captain had just finished talking to the commander, inquiring about the rules regarding romantic relationships within the corps. Formally, Erwin stated that there was not a policy about it. Casually, Erwin reminded Levi that they worked in a regiment that had much bigger problems to worry about. As his wing man, Erwin winked, “Remember, Levi. Choose whatever you will regret the least.” The most obvious green flag he could give, Levi took it and ran. Out his office door, That answers that.

He thought that the conversation with Erwin had been awkward enough, but when he went to Hange, it got so much worse. Hooting and hollering when Levi asked how to ask someone out, so loud that the short captain had to reach up and cover the section commander’s mouth. God forbid the entire barracks - or you - heard.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Levi!” Hange crossed their arms and teased, “You act like you have never interacted with a girl before.”

“You’re not exactly the most ladylike, pal.”

Hange’s expression lit up, “Pal? I’m your pal, Levi?”

On his heel, Levi turned towards the door, frustrated fists bunched at his sides. Hange reached out and clutched the hem of his tan coat, nearly ripping it, “Wait! Wait! I’m sorry! I’ll help you!”

Levi still refused to turn around, “You have thirty seconds.”

They rushed through the basics. “First, make sure they know that you care about them. Second, make it clear that they are special to you. Third, try to find out if they're taken or if they're interested in dating. Finally, be honest about your feelings, but use a little charm!”

His back still to Hange, they could not see the perplexity on his face: knit brows, eyes darting back and forth. Be honest but charming? What’s the timeline? Show that I care or tell them that I do?

Levi simmered with that advice for a handful of days before he parsed through his plan and put it into place. For you, though, the meaning behind his strange actions was not exactly obvious. Why was he telling you to make sure your blades were all sharpened? Why did he snatch them off your person and offer to do it himself? Was he mad at you? Picking on you? Using you as an example? A bad example or a good example? Even more confusing was when he ordered others to be more like you - to do as many pushups as you, to run as many laps as you. Mixed signals left you dazed: does he think you’re the worst or the best?

Your confusion circled back to him as well. At times, you made blatant attempts to ignore his eye contact. At others, it was like you could not keep your eyes off of him. Asking him questions as serious as life-or-death situations, or as miniscule as how he liked to take his tea. Regardless of their nature, both of you started to realize: your interactions were becoming more and more frequent, far too frequent to be a mistake.

That realization was what led to your first physical contact on that fated night. Levi was walking to your room, eyes fixated on his dragging boots. You were headed towards his office, gaze glued to the ceiling. Both of you wondered, What the hell am I doing? Too distracted to see the person right in front of you - not until his lowered head met your cleavage, not until your lips met his forehead. One hell of a first base.

“Sorry!” You both yelled in unison, “I didn’t - I didn’t -” constantly interrupting each other. Levi shook his head, your mouth hung agape, “I didn’t see you.”

You had to admit, it was somewhat strange the way you both said the same thing at the same time, but not too out of the ordinary - that was until the next sentence you shared: “You’re so soft…”

Levi blushed, speaking under his breath, “Like a pillow.” He tried to avert his eyes, but it felt that everywhere he looked was the wrong way. To your eyes - too intense. Away - too avoidant. The pillows he had just headbutted - definitely not!

Your lip twitched as you attempted to hide your smile. Enamored but nervous. Flattered and flustered. You reached back to his forehead where your lips had left their mark and thumbed your lipstick aside, “Do you exfoliate?” His skin was so smooth, you envied and admired, “Do you have a skincare routine?”

“I - I…” Levi stuttered, having to catch himself before he went off on a dermatology tangent. He pinched the inside of his palm, Remember why you’re here. “I think - I think we… make a good…” What’s the word?! “Team.”

“And - And I umm…” Levi reached behind his neck and scratched at his undercut, a comfort move you recognized. Normally, you only witnessed it when he was disappointed in his squad or being made fun of by Hange - but this time, it was just the two of you.

Seeing your captain - humanity’s strongest - get so nervous in front of you alone gave you a soaring confidence, one that dictated your next action. Hurriedly, you reached for his hand. In your warm hold, he felt unexpectedly shaky and clammy. Sensing his anxiety, you tried to make it easy on him, blurting out your best guess at what he was trying to say, “Levi?” You swallowed, squinted, and squealed, “Do you want to go out with me?!”

Holding your hand, he felt your fingers tense up around him. Whether that was a sign of your affection or involuntary nerves, he reciprocated that squeeze. “Yeah, I do.”

That was how it began.

If you had been asked that night, you would have said that was the most awkward moment of your entire relationship, little did you know that the start of your relationship was just that: the start.

In your first kiss, he tried that lip bite Hange swore by, only to draw blood and hold ice to your mouth for an hour afterwards. On your first night together, you traced your tongue down his abdomen, preparing to give him your mouth, only to discover his ticklish spot and have him erupt in laughter in the middle of the sensual night. When he was laid up sick, you brewed his most expensive tea as a gesture of surprise, only to spill it on his sheets when you tilted the tray too far forward.

But in all of those clumsy moments, you only saw positives. You joked that the kiss was so good, you could taste it. Levi’s moans were made to sound even deeper after that laughing fit. Steam that rose from spilled tea, Levi insisted it cured his cold’s congestion.

Above all was an overarching honesty. Undeniable authenticity. No sentences rehearsed, no thought unspoken. With each other - and only each other - could both of you be unabashedly yourselves. No one else’s standards to conform to: you saw the whole Levi, he saw the entire you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

// masterlist //

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #fluff #oneshot #2022 #request #anlian writes #my writing #alias's

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hopeshoodie · 2 years

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How come you don't like lottie and graham

It’s probably mostly the whole ‘the worst sin a fictional character can commit is being annoying’ thing. I personally don’t vibe with the ‘petty with very little introspection woman’ and ‘brusque standoffish arrogant man’ personality types.

But more than that-

Lottie

Lottie in the first couple weeks of the game is absolutely intolerable. She's catty, rude, childish, and just generally mean to people around her. The girl code fixation is just an excuse to demand all the girls treat her like the main character without being critical of her own actions

She's incredibly selfish. She uses other people's things, makes messes, but then gets mad if people try to borrow her things.

She gets upset when people don't come to her with gossip, but is incredibly condescending to other people (rolling her eyes, making comments to Gary in group settings). I hate how she makes Operation Nope about 'poor me no one likes me'.

Even in late game?? She's still rolling her eyes and making sarcastic comments about Hope and Marisol, girls who at this point might be her friends.

Multiple characters TELL us in late game how much Lottie has changed, but like can someone give me a demonstrable example of her being changed? Like yes she saved Noah, but she had no other options that personally benefitted her. Yes she’s in less screaming matches, but tell me that isn’t just because she has the guy she wants. Graham Is rude/uninterested in MC during the speed dating and only asks after Marisol, then through the rest of CA he makes it clear that he has no interest in making friends/acquaintances with women he’s not sexually attracted to.

Him being testy about boat puns makes sense, but he's overly aggressive about stating in and enforcing other people not make them (and then later makes them himself??). Like he assumes people should already know that and snaps at them when telling them for the first time. I'm all for setting boundaries, but he just doesn't go about it in a considerate way.

Is the most aggressive about bullying Felix. Kassam has more of a reason to dislike Felix, but Graham’s always the one making comments, rolling his eyes, and yelling at Felix.

Hates the sound of morning doves (sin)

His rivalry with Gary is dumb. I dislike Gary for it too, but the 'thing I like is better than thing you like!' and being condescending towards Gary sucks. He also is the first one to try to instigate physical violence, telling Gary to hit him.

The sex dungeon in the pillow fort thing /really/ bothers me. I totally get that it’s funny to flirt/make jokes by alluding to BDSM and I’m fine with that. But the way Graham talks about it makes me SO uncomfortable. First, him consistently saying it to people he doesn't know well makes me think he uses it as a personality trait, which RED FLAG. Where it's more about being 'the guy who's a dom' instead of just... Enjoying BDSM for its own sake. Second, I’m sorry but if you’re conventionally attractive you’re not good at BDSM. Only people who look like absolute nerds/dweebs are good at BDSM. Third, and most importantly, he disregards consent. He doesn’t just joke about making a sex dungeon in the communal blanket fort, he grabs rope and is genuinely disappointed/annoyed that people tell him to knock it off. People react with discomfort, and that in and of itself isn't enough to get him to stop. This man was what? Going to rig up Marisol? In front of god and everybody?

When MC is on a Marisol route, Graham is shitty. Not just shitty in a 'this girl I like is being stolen away from me' way, but in a misogynistic homophobic way. He says that Marisol needs a "man like him" and then seems to undermine the legitimacy of MC and Marisol's relationship. He gets really nasty towards MC once Marisol chooses to switch, and it's just... Yuck.

#final queue #litg

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luvrlane · 3 years

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problems in the middle of the night | lhs, s

pairing. dom!bf!heeseung x fem!reader

warning/includes. GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, daddy kink, (slight) bulge kink, (slight) corruption kink, oral fixation, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), nasty piece of work. but there's a little bit of fluff in it if you squint lol. DO NOT engage in any way if you're a minor.

disclaimer. THIS IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION.

heeseung wakes up with a breathy moan. his heart raced as did the tent in his pants. great, he's fucking hard.

he glanced over the nightstand beside his bed, clock showing it's 01:51 a.m, and if that isn't the worst thing, it's the fact that he had you in his erotic dreams and now he's hard. you, on the other hand, appeared to be sleeping peacefully beside him, blissfully ignorant to the problem he's currently having.

now what the fuck is he supposed to do? he couldn't go back to sleep nor abandon his hard on even if his life depended on it. he needs to do something about it and he'd admit, he was growing needy. a little help would suffice.

so he started out with his asking for help by kissing your shoulder blades. feeling up your sides, his lips moved to the length of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over his trace. the action made you stir in your sleep. you were a light sleeper, any small disruption is enough to wake you up.

heeseung's lips ghosted on the shell of your ears, pressing a gentle kiss before he called out to you ever so lovingly, "baby. baby," his voice was as gentle as his touch, coaxing you from your deep slumber. "baby, we've got a problem." he cooes, hands now reaching the valley of your breasts, giving one of them a light squeeze.

now you're awake. "heeseung, what is it?" drowsiness was laced in your tone. you fought hard to crack your eyes open. instead of giving you a verbal answer, he opted to pressing his dick onto your hips instead, guiding one of your hands to craddle the tent.

"i'm sorry, baby. i didn't want to wake you." the tip of his pointy nose was tickling your neck now, as he moved down from your ear back to your neck, pressing down light kisses on the expanse.

"but it couldn't be helped." though sleepiness was very much still clouding over you, you knew what he was asking you to tend to.

the amount of love you have for this man is insane.

if being needy wasn't enough, now impatience creeps up on him too. he couldn't wait to get his hands all over you. inside you. but he needed you to give him consent. "can i, baby?" heeseung asked, a little breathy.

a small smile made its way to your face. the limb that sat on his dick reached around until it transitioned to his hair instead. fluffy, fluffy hair, resembling a cloud. you gave it a light ruffle. heeseung naturally leaned more into your touch, loving the way your fingers feel on him. on normal days he's an absolute sucker for your pretty little fingers. he still do, even now, but there's a more preferred place he'd rather have your fingers on. so he asked again, "hm, baby? give me an answer, sweetheart. i need to have you. i want to fuck you nice and slow. right now, baby. i need you right now."

fuck. he was basically pleading. but he couldn't fucking careless. it's weird, you thought. even in this mood, heeseung was able to set butterflies in your stomach. you gave him a small nod, before you decided. "go ahead, daddy."

go ahead, daddy.

daddy.

he's fucked.

heeseung wasted no more second after you gave him an okay. you were already lying halfway on your stomach since before he woke you up, so he climbed over you, nudging your legs apart. your nightgown was riding on your ass now that he's had you spread out prettily for him. he pushed up a leg, and your heart started to drum.

lee heeseung will never not get your heart skipping a beat. even now, even when he's about to prep you, even when he's casting your nightgown to god knows somewhere in the bedroom. you never once uttered a complaint through it all. you let him get his way with you. not because he owns you. but because all the trust and devotion accumulated over the years you spent with him had proven its worthwhile.

so when heeseung spread your dry folds with his fingers, you whimpered. you have just woken up, after all. heeseung played with the nub, fingers never really entering inside you. "daddy.." you moaned out. the waves of pleasure is starting to arrive on the scene. heeseung had his face close to your cunt now, giving the plump lips a light peck, while a finger slowly eased in.

he intended to make you wet first, before anything. and his method so far is successful. a wet muscle licked stripes on your folds, it had you moaning a little louder this time. simultaneously, his one finger pumped in and out of you, while he's licking and sucking your bud.

and now, you're fucked.

your arousal started pooling around your pussy, due to his diligent fixation. heeseung eased a second finger, smearing the wetness around the lips of your cunt. "fuck, daddy. f-feels so good." fuck, fuck, fuck. it felt so, so, soo fucking good. honestly, fuck lee heeseung and his crazy oral fixation.

heeseung hummed a response. he sucked on your folds, with some of your juice sucked in too. his cock is even harder now. lord, you are the death of him.

then something pooled in your stomach. cum, you were going to cum. solely because of his fingers and tongue alone.

heeseung must've sensed this, the way your walls tightened around his three fingers now, as he had added another one just a little while ago. he raised his head, your juice daubed on his chin. "cum, sweetheart. cum on my fingers. then after this cum on my cock. over and over and over again." his words only heightened the feeling inside of you. your face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows knitted together as you bite down your pillow. your legs moved around hastily, you were unable to hold your cum no longer.

heeseung brought his face onto your pussy again. all it took was a lick over your folds, along with the nonstop draws of his thick, long fingers, and then you cummed. heeseung didn't stop his administration. instead, he slowed it down, helping you ride your orgasm. he smiled as he felt your walls are now much softer, more relaxed, ready to take him in.

heeseung withdrew his fingers out of you only to suck on them himself. tasting your cum, which he claimed as the sweetest ever. aside from your lips, that is. "good job, baby." he complimented you, and even with your face flushed out, he managed to get you blushing.

he rose up from his stance, blanket pooling on his legs, and he discarded his boxer, pulling out his god damn well endowed of a cock to give it a few slow stroke. you watched over your shoulder, pussy still spasming from the head he'd just given you. "gonna fuck you now, baby."

he didn't have to say that. if possible, your heart thrummed even harder than before.

with that, heeseung guided his hands onto your hips, pulling your ass back by a bit and raising them in the position he'd dreamt to take you tonight.

the clock is now 02:22 a.m.

he was showing no sign of stopping soon. in fact, lee heeseung had just gotten started.

your cheeks were smushed in the pillow now, given the position. "remember your safe words, baby?"

you gave him a confirming nod.

from there, heeseung pushed his fat cock into your hot, velvety walls. the two of you moaned in unison. the stretch was bearable, remember how he had prepped you with his three equally thick fingers. but it still stings. he was bigger than average, and longer too. god, you fucking love your boyfriend.

"look at it, baby. look how your pretty little hole is accomodating my cock. holy fuck. you're so hot." at this point, heeseung was a goner. "too big, yeah, baby?" though you couldn't see clearly, you could picture his stupid grin.

"too- too big.. but so good.." heeseung loved compliments. especially if it comes from you. especially if it's about him. especially if it's about how he's fucking you so damn sweet. honestly, fuck lee heeseung and his big, fat dick.

heeseung hasn't even entered himself all in. yet you feel so incredibly full already. you swear, you could feel him in your stomach.

he gave you few experimental thrusts at first, to make it easier for him to slide the remaining of his girth home. your moans took a higher pitch. "ah, ah, ah!" and lee heeseung fucking had the nerve to laugh.

your ass is hanging midair, and his dick is moving in and out of you. could this night get even better?

"breathe in and out, sugar. i'm going to bottoms up." you loved the way he's always, always giving you a heads up in whatever he's about to pull next. so you did as you were told, breathing in and out.

your toes curl when you feel heeseung pushing his hips tantalizingly slow into you, feeling every delicious stretch of his length, the veins protuding your walls. you couldn't close your mouth. you're all too fucked out now, and he hasn't even began fucking you properly.

"there we go. that wasn't so hard, was it? that's my girl."

that's my girl.

you're absolutely wrecked.

you were drooling. lee heeseung's dick had you drooling. whimpers were let out from you. you could feel every inch of him and he's filling you up so well.

then he rocked his hips. "daddy!" you yelped, out of both surprise and pleasure. "fuck, fuck! daddy!" the pool of blanket around his legs and yours began to follow his movement. he angled his hips a little higher as his arm rests on your the small back of your waist, pushing your ass down by a bit, and then he pistons inside you. you fucking screamed. "ahhh, daddy!"

"sweetheart. baby. sugar." heeseung groaned out. "your pussy. mine. mine." he punctuated his words with a set of hard thrusts. "only mine." he had you crying for real now. from the position the two of you took, the tip of his dick was abusing your sweet spot continuously. have you ever been fucked so good that you cried from pleasure?

"you. all of you. the whole of you." he declared. his dick is in your stomach now. you're sure of it. when he pulled out his cock, leaving the tip kissing your folds, he muttered, "you're only mine. all mine." and then he dived right back into you.

"yes! yes—ah! ah! y-yours!" you had to drag out the "o" and your hands are balling the sheets. "daddy!" he loved it. he loved hearing you scream. he loved fucking you good. he loved loving you. "and i'm only yours, sweetheart." he whispered, though midway through his sentence, he choked and grunted in pleasure. "until the end of time."

you couldn't contain your moans. not when your boyfriend's thick cock has made a home for itself in your pussy.

"so—good!" look at you. you failed to find it in you to form coherent sentence.

his pace had gotten quicker. he had picked them up, and your folds made a squelching sound from the collective arousal of you and your boyfriend. "uh, uh!" you attempted to wipe the tears from your face, but heeseung had interlocked his fingers with yours before you could even reach your eyes. his other hand was hoisting your hips up in an angle that presses down that exact bundle of nerves in you. your thighs began to shake.

"a mess. you're a me—ss." he stuttered in between his words. it only go so far to prove that this rutting is affecting him too. very intensely.

you let go of his fingers to reach around your back, placing your hand on his pelvis. "y—yellow.." you muttered out.

yellow. a change of position. he smiled and slowed his tempo down.

heeseung had set your bums down, with his dick very much still in you. then, he turned you around so carefully, until your eyes are meeting his. your hair has gotten all over your face, but he didn't mind. he took one leg over his shoulder, and bent down to press a quick kiss on your lips, your inner thighs burning at the action.

now, you're all in his view. your face. your perky, round mounds. chest rising up and down. the curve of your sides. your slick, wet core. still attached to his dick. if you glance down, you could see the wide stretch. luckily for heeseung, he didn't need to glance down, for it's all before him already.

heeseung left a peck on your leg, dangling over his shoulder. he took one of your arms, giving your knuckles a peck, too. and then his hips stirred. "..!" you weren't alarmed. "oh!"

your eyes almost screwed shut due to how deep he's hitting inside of you. the expression you had on was dumb, and there's only one person to blame: fucking lee heeseung. he abandoned his hold on your legs and fingers, his hands now clamming your sides, pressing you down on him.

"fuck, baby. look." following his order, your eyes trailed to where he's looking. your stomach. you could feel his dick moving. no, you could see his dick moving. that seem to drove him even further south. "fucking hell, sweetheart. your cunt is too tiny, the way it stretched at my width. and now i'm reaching your stomach. you're driving me crazy."

as if he wasn't driving you crazy too. you arched your back at his comments and his thrusts, chants of his name falling out of your lips. "da—ddy! ah, ah!" you dragged out the "a", your eyes rolling back. "slow—down!" heeseung's forehead creased, pounding into you like a mad man quelching his thirst, he was unavailable to comply to your request. your commands only made him set his pace quicker.

you're going to cum. heeseung is moving way too rapid, every drag of his cock are designated into assaulting your sweet spot. if you were drooling on your pillow before, now you're drooling in your face.

"eugh! da—ddy," your throat was hoarse from screaming. he could feel the way your walls closed on him. it made him choke, struggling to keep up with his own pace.

"yes, baby? what is it that you need?" the leg on his shoulder is shaking, and you're bucking your hips wildly.

"c—cum.. i need to cum.."

"then cum, baby. all over my cock." was all it took for you to spasm all around his length, coating them with your fluids. heeseung leaned down to leave kisses on your neck while you were chasing your high, muttering praises that were lost in the hazy feeling you were having from pleasure. "that's my girl. good job, baby."

heeseung's hips faltered into a series of slow thrusts. he lied about fucking you nice and slow. none of this was nice nor slow. it was intoxacting, all consuming.

you were in and out of consciousness when heeseung tapped your waist. "stay with me, sweetheart. we're not done yet."

the clock is now 03:49 a.m. on most days, heeseung is a man of words. he keeps his promises and says things from the bottom of his heart. but once in awhile, in cases like tonight, he felt like having a cheat day.

#enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

Text

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

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

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

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

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

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

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

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

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leaving me with Spencer.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

“____?”

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

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

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

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

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

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

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

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

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

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

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

I started noticing more little things after that.

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

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

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

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

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

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

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

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

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

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

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

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

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

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

“You’re both adults, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

Even though I definitely wanted to.

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

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

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

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

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It hurts!”

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

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

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

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

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

Right.

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

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

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was an awful person.

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

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

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

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

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

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

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

“____-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

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

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

“How I feel?”

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

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that just made it all the more exciting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

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

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

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

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

“I…”

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

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

He didn’t find any.

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

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L-lots of stuff.”

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

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

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

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

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

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

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

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

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

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

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

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

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

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

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

“Stop, stop!”

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

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

Understandable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

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

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

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

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

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

-----

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atozfic · 3 years

Text

reaction: meeting pirate!ateez

pairing: ateez x gn!reader.

warnings. misogyny, s*xual harassment, violence, kidnapping, blood, death, mentions of capital punishment (h*nging), mentions of the military, hongjoong's is lowkey a spoiler for my upcoming fic named siren, angst, fluff.

word count. 5.6k

hyde's input. this is completely triggered by the kingdom stage, i’m not even sorry.

park seonghwa.

the drunker customers had always been the worst, in your eyes. sure, they usually spent large sums of coins, fuelling your salary and guaranteeing you’d have the capability to keep the roof over your head another month, but they were also the loudest, rowdiest, rudest within the hovel of a tavern. with little care for the other patrons, and no respect towards the poor serving wenches tasked with bringing them round after round of ale. you’d done well to avoid them most of that evening, sending over your co-worker, who was stronger and larger by every sense of the word, a person even those senseless drunks took one look at and knew not to mess with them. but they’d left early, the news of an important family matter dragging them out the doors, leaving you alone and with no other choice but to serve the rowdy crew in the corner, who were already yelling over the sounds of their own laughter as you approached.

“well well, boys, look what we have here! a little bird!” the man to your right must have failed to notice the grimace on your face as his arm snuck around your waist, or he noticed and simply didn’t care. the second choice sounded far more likely.

“wonder if we can get the little birdie to sing us a song!” another among the group of drunkards chimed in, sat to the left of you. “one night with me and you’ll be singing for the rest of the week.”

the whole group had their eyes fixated on you by that point, leaning in to smile at you with their crooked teeth and sweat stained clothes, scanning over your figure like you were a rack of lamb and them a pack of starved wolves.

“one night? pathetic.” the first man laughed out, hand squeezing around you tighter, trying his best to drag you down into his lap and do god-knows what to you. “one finger, birdie, and i’ll have you singing till the day you die.”

shaking your head, and plastering on the fakest smile you could, you tried your best to remove the arm from around you. any sudden movement could will them to pounce, you needed to get away from their predatory eyes as quickly and smoothly as possible. “no, thank you. i’m engaged, unfortunately. but thank you for the offers, kind sirs.”

“what he doesn’t know, won’t kill him.” the man to your left flashed, what you imagine he considered, a charming smile. his own arm reached up, crossing over the one already laying along your waist. the other drunks nodded in agreement, moving in closer till you were sure you’d wind up drunk from the stench of their breaths alone. “besides, i don’t see him anywhere. if he didn’t want people playing with his toys, he shouldn’t have left them out the box.”

you were doomed.

“if you don’t want to lose that hand of yours, i suggest you remove it from my fiancé.” a voice spoke out from behind you, eerily calm for someone who’d just dished out a threat to a group of several men.

“oh, really? you hear that, lads?” the one on the right laughed, his hand slipping lower and copping a feel at your backside before landing a smack against it. “pretty boy thinks he’s all tough. bet you wouldn’t know how to use that sword of yours, even if you wanted to. now piss off and comeback when me and your little fiancé are done having- bastard!”

in a flash, the hands groping your body were gone and the group were scrambling out of their seats. the man on the right clasped the now bleeding stump up to his chest, a pitiful squeak coming from him as you saw a hand shoot out from behind you, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt. “come anywhere near this tavern again, i’ll gauge your eyes out and feed them to the sharks.”

you remained silent for a few minutes, too shaken to move until you were sure the men were long gone and nowhere lingering in the darkness. a hand landed on your shoulder, retracting as you flinched at the sudden touch. finally finding the strength, you turned around and came face to face with your saviour. he was pretty, and not in the degrading way those men had meant. tall and welt built, with one hand whipping the blood off of his sword onto his trousers before slipping it back into its sheath.

“thank you.” the whisper in your own voice shocked you as you attempted to relay your gratitude to the stranger, who looked down on you in disinterest and shrugged like it was no big deal. however, when his own hand clasped yours and placed a cold object into it, it seemed to contradict his nonchalant demeanour.

“use that next time. men like that don’t care much for a person’s marital status.” with that, the stranger spun on his heel and made his way out into the night, leaving you with two questions: who the hell was he and why had he gifted you such an expensive looking dagger?

kim hongjoong.

for the first time since your journey had begun, sleep was peaceful.

there were no nightmares of the royal court telling you over and over how you were to be married come the first day of summer, or your father criticizing every part of your persona, or the image of your soon-to-be-husband and his unknown face, capturing you in his iron grasp and torturing you much like he done to his other pets that didn’t behave accordingly. no, this sleep was nothing short of perfect. dreams of walking on the softest clouds, of holding hands with an angel and dancing beneath the star-stained skies, of living happily in the middle of nowhere. everything was warm, warm, warm...

cold.

you woke with a gasp, water running down your face and your arms aching to reach up and wipe it out of your eyes, only to find themselves against some sort of wooden beam. the harder you pulled against it, the more the rope dug into your fragile skin, burning a rash into it.

“excuse the wet interruption but, well, you were taking too long to wake up and our captain’s an impatient guy.” the man before you, bearing a bucket in his arms and the brattiest of smiles on his face greeted you, starring down at where you were sat on the floor of the deck. there was no doubt about it, you were aboard a ship with what you could only hope were not sailors eager to earn the reward for catching and returning you to the royals.

“where am i?” you croaked out a reply. your throat burned, begging for some water. the sun was beaming down, giving the boy above you a halo-esque glow around his head. perhaps this was the angel you’d held in your dreams. though, the sword strapped to his side and the scar running down his neck and under the shirt he wore made you doubt it.

“technically, you’re somewhere in the middle of the south atlantic ocean.” another boy approached, hair the strangest shade of purple and a far more warm-hearted smile on his face. “literally? you’re on board the aurora. isn’t she a beauty?”

“uh, i guess?” there wasn’t much to view of the ship, what with your body strapped to a mast and the two boys blocking the view behind them.

“you’re awake? perfect.” a new voice entered the mix, forcing both the boys in front of you to slide out of the way and clear a path for the new arrival. though the man was shorter than the other two, something about the way their eyes stared at him with utmost respect told you he was by no means lesser. “and i see that san and wooyoung wasted no time in making your acquaintance. forgive them, they’ve been... interested to speak with you since finding you washed up on that island.”

“it’s fine. probably owe them a thanks for saving my life. i don’t remember much from the wreckage, never mind washing up on any island.” the small talk was all fun and nice but you were itching to be set loose, the nerves bubbling up in your throat at the possibility that these men were foes and not friends.

“i’m hongjoong, captain of the aurora and of the ateez crew.” the more he smiled, the more unnerved you became. there was something twisted about the way his lips curled up, the way his eyes seemed to glimmer with secrets under the harsh sun.

you opted against giving your name, fearful of the danger it would land you in. your best bet was to remain anonymous, an unknown entity under the watchful eyes of these strangers.

“now that we’re all acquainted,” the man paused, smiling off to the side at the two other men who returned a knowing look before his head whipped back to where you sat, smile dropped from his face and his sword pointing at your throat. one tiny slip forward and it would split your windpipe. “who are you and why do you bare the royal sigil of the kim empire?”

jeong yunho.

the sound of swords smashing against each other, of lives being taken and of bodies tumbling overboard died out gradually. it was clear to see, like always, who the victorious had been in the battle between the ships.

in defence of his crewmates, yunho would justify this attack with the fact that they had not initiated it. the growing reputation of the aurora was something out of their control. they’d become an urban legend of sorts, a crew notoriously not to be messed with. this made them a prime target for the big-headed, overly confident fools they shared the ocean with. their flag was easy to recognise and their boat even more so, they were a bullseye floating on water.

just like every other before, the now deceased men who manned the enemy ship had stalked them, hunting them down in the middle of the mighty waters to begin their attack. their mistake was assuming that, because it was night, the boys were sleeping and unaware of the strangers boarding their ship. defeating them was the easy part, the hard part came afterwards.

the usual three men of the small crew landed confidently onboard the enemy ship, weapons firmly grasped in hand before devising up who would check what. like always, jongho opted for the deck and mingi announced he’d be checking the captain’s quarters, leaving yunho with no choice than to head down into the forecastle. he didn’t mind one bit, there was usually less of value for him to raid down there, making his job easier.

amid rummaging his way through countless rags and useless cheap metals, yunho became alert at a particular sound. living on edge through most of his childhood had taught him to pay attention to the little things, to listen for what most people would overlook. remaining as still as possible, his suspicions were confirmed.

someone, or something, was breathing in the room with him.

with one hand on the handle of his weapon, the other gripped the lid of a barrel, ripping it back with no hesitation only to be left speechless and confused. he’d expected to find a coward, a traitor to the crew they’d just finished ridding the world of. someone who’d ran from a fight and thought they could hide long enough to survive.

he wasn’t expecting to find you there, rope around your wrists, a gag in your mouth and the look of pure terror in your eyes. this was a problem.

a big one.

he knew it was none of his business, you were none of his business. he owed you nothing. protocol, and that voice in his head that reminded him so much of his short-tempered captain, told him to turn away. to put the lid back on and leave you where he found you, just another useless object in the room. but he knew what was going to happen to this ship the second jongho got done splashing the wooden deck with cheap liquor, how it would light the sky up in flames the minute him and his two crewmate left. something about letting someone so helpless looking as yourself burn in the ashes didn’t sit right with him.

so he kicked the barrel over, grimacing at the groan of pain he heard you release. he should have been more gentle but it wasn’t in his nature. his instinct told him to be quiet and, so, silence made itself comfortable between you both. silence when he cut the ties on your wrist, silence when he helped remove your gag, silence when he brought you back up onto the deck, one arm thrown over his shoulder while you limped forward.

“i know we’re not exactly the poster boys for morality but, really, yunho?” he noticed how you flinched at the sound of mingi’s booming voice, your hand gripping him a little tighter. the whole display fascinated him, watching someone else depend on him, even if it was down to a lack of options. “human-trafficking? i thought we were at least above that!”

“shut up. i found them down in a barrel, appears to be a prisoner of some sort.” yunho met your desperate eyes, his own rigid body aching to relax against yours. he was tired, muscles aching from combat and it had been so long since he’d been so close to someone other than his seven sea-brothers. “am i right?”

you nodded meekly. yunho wished he’d heard you speak.

“great to meet you and all but, yunho, c’mon. hongjoong would never allow this, much less seonghwa.” it was jongho who’d now chimed in, stating the obvious. their crew had only made it so far with their trust and their bond, strangers were never a welcomed addition to their team, even if it left them a few hands short of the average ship.

luckily, yunho had no intention of having you join them. “i know, but we can’t leave a prisoner to burn with a ship they had no business with. hongjoong will agree to letting them onboard till our next stop, where we can all go our separate ways. as for hwa, i can deal with him myself.”

it was that simple, apparently, and within under half an hour you found yourself with no idea where you were heading, who you were with or if you could trust them but, for the time being, you were wrapped in a clean blanket, food was in your hand while your eyes stared out at the burning ship you’d been imprisoned on for months, and that seemed better than nothing.

kang yeosang.

with each step he took along the familiar cobbled streets, the bile was rising in his throat. it burned, begging for him to bend over and wretch all over the floor. nostalgia was infecting him, everywhere he looked reminding him of another time in history where he’d lived on land and not the sea. where he’d been the mayor’s son, wildly in love with the baker’s own child. where he’d had plans of marrying in the meadow behind his house, a home to raise his own children alongside the love of his life.

that boy died the day his father was murdered, blood spilling onto the street as on-lookers did nothing to stop the carnage. he’d tried vengeance at first, seeking out his father’s murderer with the plans of putting their child through the same loss he was experiencing. but he couldn’t do that to the baker’s child.

he couldn’t do that to you.

so, he ran like a coward. slipped out your window one night, believing it would be easier to say goodbye if he never truly said it, if all he left you with was a lingering kiss on your forehead.

somewhere along his journey, amid the countless nights of no sleep as he wondered how you were, if you hated him, how long it would take for you to move on, yeosang stumbled upon a band of misfits, speaking lunacy of stealing a ship from a crew of militants and setting assail along the sea.

naturally, he’d joined in on the plan in a heartbeat.

but life had brought him back to that tiny island he’d once called home, the need to hunt down some ancient jewel at the order of the ship’s captain and his leading lady taking precedence over yeosang’s avoidance of the mass of land.

three nights passed since their ship had docked. yeosang had walked the entire village over and over in that time and, while hongjoong believed he’d been failing at finding the jewel, yeosang was actually failing at finding you. he’d become comfortably numb to the thought you’d left.

it was selfish of him to think you’d be waiting for him all this time. you deserved to go out and live life to the fullest, to fall in love with someone unafraid to hold you in your darkest hour and to be held by you in theirs.

the sickly scent of sticky honey and sweet syrup had the pit of yeosang’s stomach dropping with dread, eyes darting up to find the place his feet had carried him against his will. that damned bakery, with it’s usual dark green exterior and the beaten sign out front. nothing had changed about the place but everything had changed about yeosang.

except for his love for you.

he just about lost balance at the sudden collision that crashed against his lower leg, the unmistakable sound of a child’s laughter floating in the air and bringing the pirate’s attention down to the dark haired boy, who’d landed on his bottom half after crashing against yeosang’s leg. if he’d had the instinct of a father, perhaps yeosang would’ve been able to tell whether or not the child was truly hurt but all he could go off of was the nonstop laughter coming from the boy.

“chinhae!” a voice rang out behind him, who yeosang could only assume was the boy’s parent. his hand reached down, which the boy happily took and allowed himself to be pulled back onto his feet. “i’m so sorry, he’s reaching that age where mischief is the only fun. chinhae, what do you say to the- yeosang?”

you were just as beautiful as the day he’d left you in that bed, despite the coldness in you stare and the step back you took from him, the young boy pressed back against you.

the bile quickly returned to yeosang’s throat. the thought of you with someone else had been easy, but the image of it was heartbreakingly painful, the child at your side a visual representation of how little you wanted him anymore and a reminder of how badly he still needed you.

“long time no see...?” even he couldn’t believe his own words, knowing it was far less from what you deserved. “i see you’ve moved on well.”

“was i not supposed to?” you snapped, the anger you clearly still felt for him burning behind your eyes. “i don’t remember you doing anything to stop me from moving on. in fact, you weren’t even here.”

“no.” he cleared his throat, swallowing the lump in it. “you were supposed to live on, to move on.”

“good, so glad to have the approval of kang yeosang.”

as yeosang stumbled back onto the aurora that night, drunk as a fool and dreaming of another world where he could have you by his side, he’d never understand how much easier it had been for you to lie to him than to tell him the truth.

choi san.

everything about the display was pure barbaric.

the crowd of people chanting like wild animals, eyes eager to witness a life be taken. the officers guarding the wooden podium where the twisted spectacle was scheduled to take place, each one of them knowing fine well the man they had in shackles was not guilty of the brutal murders they had pinned on him. the lone noose dangling, freshly tied and awaiting the young neck of the sacrificial lamb, the young man’s eyes filled with determination as he stared at his condemned fate.

the pirate was guilty of many things, yes, but the murder of an innocent family? no. he may not live by the law but he and his brothers lived by their own code. besides, he’d not arrived at the dock until four days after the slayings, it was physically impossible for him to be guilty.

it was all an elaborate cover up, a ploy to protect rather than punish the real murderer. the town was small and people liked to gossip, it hadn’t taken long for the rumours to spread of who the real perpetrator was. an officer in the military, their boat having been docked at the port for the past few weeks now. there was no chance they’d throw their own under the bus for the crime, that’s where the unlucky pirate came into the picture. he’d been easily identified by the militants, cornered and apprehended for petty crimes before they loaded on the claims of how he’d killed a mother and her two sons in cold blood. the townsfolk didn’t care much for the truth, the drama and spectacle of the public execution mattered more to them than who’s life exactly was being taken.

with each minute that passed, your eyes focused on the way the pirate scanned his surroundings, as if his mind were running at a thousand miles an hour to map out the area and find his best exit. to even attempt to escape was dangerous in the first place but, with so many people around him begging to see him killed, there was no way he’d get away.

not without a distraction.

in only a moment, you’d throw away the years of being the perfect person. grooming and prepping yourself to greet the world everyday with a smile, even through moments of pain, would have all be for nothing. forgotten and tossed out a metaphorical window as your hand threw the literal brick at one of the officers, ducking into the manic crowd before you could see it impact and smash to pieces against his shoulder.

pushing, shoving and forcing your way past people was the easiest part, your eyes landing on the pirate fighting off another officer with a punch to the jaw, his shackles now dangling from one wrist and his eyes lit up with new found adrenaline.

the hardest part was when the angry mob recognised you, screaming out that you were the one who’d ruined the event, who’d set their prisoner free to escape and find safety. then came the chasing, through an unimaginable amount of streets. your feet had never worked so hard to kick off the ground, the impact sending jolts of pain up your ankle that you had no time to care about.

you felt yourself being grabbed, whole body dragged into the door of a dark building and slammed against it as it shut again. if it weren’t for the hand against your mouth and the familiar cat-like eyes of the pirate, you’d have screamed in terror.

“you realize this makes you an accomplice, right?” he whispered in your ear as a stampede of people ran past you, leaving you with nothing but the dark haired stranger and the limited space between you two.

song mingi.

at some point, you'd given up on trying to shield your head from the rain.

it seemed futile with the size of the storm above, ripping through the sky and lighting it up in shades electric blues, yellows, whites. if there were a god, she seemed angry.

the clothes on your body had begun to stick to you like a second skin. the cold had long infiltrated the fabric of your outfit, a constant shiver running up and down your spine, goosebumps licking your skin and your lips bruising in a pale purple. but you were almost home, there was no point stopping now, no matter how much your aching muscles wanted to sit down.

tightening your grip on your bag, your legs carried your through puddles and streams of rain water. the only positive spin you could put on the whole situation was the wonders the rain would be doing for your crops, keeping them well watered. after the drought of the past year, you could not afford to go another season without any growth in the garden. it would kill you, leave you having to give up your childhood home. the job down at the infirmary didn’t pay enough to cover your costs, you relied on being able to set up your small but popular stall every week down at the market.

something in the distance halted your movement. a figure, dark and hunched over, a shape you couldn’t quite make out in the black of the night. with caution, you began the ascent up the path to your quaint home, all the while your mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, hand slipping into your pocket to take a grasp of the single barrel gun your father had left behind in his passing. the object felt dirty and heavy in your hand. this feeling only grew as your eyes fully took in the sight before you.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you dived forward in a hurry, all previous caution dissipating when you scanned over the injured man. his face was all bloodied up and he seemed to be teetering in and out of consciousness.

with great effort, you managed to get the man inside your house, helping him all the way over to your small couch and dropping him onto it, apologising when he let out a pained hiss. the fire was lit and you filled a basin with warm water, soaking a rag before wiping at the man’s face, doing your utmost best to not linger too long on his striking features. the injuries on his face were nothing compared to the sight of what was under his bloodied shirt, the wound serving as the ghost of whatever blade had stabbed him.

“what’s your name?” panicked, you done your best to keep the man talking as your hand whipped away the blood on his torso, urgently needing to see the extent of his cut. you needed to keep him awake, conscious. there was no way you’d be able to cope with someone dying on your couch.

“mingi.” he rasped out, moments before his eyes rolled back and his eyelids gave into the heavy feeling, shutting down with the rest of his body and slipping into a forgiving sleep.

jung wooyoung.

your lover was an early riser.

in the time you both had spent together, you’d grown used to the feeling of waking up alone in a cold bed. at first, it had worried you. your own insecurities and a past of men using you mercilessly lead you to believe he’d simply left, content with having claimed the only thing he desired from you.

but you always found him sitting on your porch, staring out at the world and enjoying the peace of the early morning hours. he’d tell you every day about the beautiful sunrise, painting your mind with hues of orange before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, hands tugging you back into his arms, back into the bed you’d grown to share.

this morning, there was no sign of your lover. no sound of him wishing you good morning, of him laughing to himself out on the porch, of him sighing your name in waves of pleasure.

all that you could find was a letter addressed to your name, left on his usual spot for watching the sunrise.

my lovely stardust,

i write this with a heavy heart. you’ll never understand how badly i would love to lay next to you each morning and watch the sun set the sky ablaze. to trace your skin everyday would be sweeter than any cake and better than any heaven the gods may try to offer me. but, i’m afraid i’m not the good man you think me to be

i’m a liar. when we first met, you were nothing of importance to me, it made lying to you easier. spilling out falsehoods of how i was a member of the navy was fun, seeing you be fooled was exciting. overtime, however, it grew painful. love blossomed in my heart, the way a flower blossoms in spring: quickly, vividly, in the brightest of colours. lying to you went from being a game to being torture, ripping my heart to pieces every time i had to hide the truth from you. but my time has ran out, darling, and it’s time i face the violent music.

i’m a pirate, so i didn’t completely lie. i do sail upon a ship. when i docked here, i was ill. my body could not withhold the harsh winter out at sea, it needed warmth, safety, a place to call home. how privileged of it to find you. but now, spring has arrived and my body has healed. the sea, she calls to me, yearns for me to return to her. my brothers need me, though they’d never admit it. my love, tying myself down to you is something i could do in an instant, with no hesitation. tying myself down on land though, that is something i can not do. i need the cruel sea as much as she needs me.

i know you’re angry. i know you’ve thought of burning this note four times, without having even finished it yet. god, i hope you finish it. please. i’m sorry i was dishonest, and for not being man enough to say this all to your face. i couldn’t risk our last memories together being sour. any love i gave you was never a lie, you have to know that.

when two moon cycles have been completed, my ship will be passing by the dock. if, after all this and some time to think to yourself, you could still have me, hold me, love me... meet me there. runaway with me and the sea. i promise you’ll never regret the beauty of watching the sunrise over the top of the ocean.

your eternal pirate,

wooyoung.

choi jongho.

there were times that jongho cursed being the youngest in the crew. they were all fairly close in age and, usually, payed no attention to hierarchy between them all. as far as the ateez crewmates were aware, they were all each other’s equals.

that equality was forgotten about when it came to disembarking.

for months, when their voyages had first began, they’d all fight for the right to touch dryland. all eight of them competitive, it became a regular occurrence for a friendly brawl to break out between them all in the fight to avoid being left behind to guard the vessel. until wooyoung, with his high-pitched laughter, proclaimed that jongho should be the one to stay behind, seeing as he was the youngest among them after all.

it had taken two weeks for the smaller boy’s black eye to fade.

“i’ll be back before sunset to take over for you,” seonghwa, the oldest and oddly most caring among the brothers, said as the rest of the members made their way down onto the dock, each patting jongho on the shoulder as they passed. “that gives you time to get whatever supplies you need before the shops shut at sundown.”

jongho knew the routine by that point. he let a sigh leave his lips, focusing his attention on giving the deck a scrub, making use of his free time and the burning hot sun above him that promised to dry up whatever he cleaned. in no time, he’d broken a sweat and found himself slipping his dress shirt over his head, leaving him in the sleeveless t-shirt underneath.

temptation rose with the heat before jongho headed below deck, doing his best to find a drink of water or rum, anything would do so long as it cured his dehydration. he couldn’t have been gone more than three minutes and, still, he came back up to find a stranger, you, creeping their way around onboard, scanning for the first sign of valuable treasure.

you turned, finally coming face to face with the smiling pirate who was leaning against a mast, arms crossed over his chest as he sized you up. you were a harmless thing, nothing he couldn’t throw overboard in a matter of seconds.

“welcome on board the aurora, how can i help you?” his voice was laced in sarcasm, his only interest being in helping you find an exit. when you gave him no reply other than the nervous look on your face, jongho piped up again. “what, cat got your tongue?”

you seemed to cower in on yourself, like a child caught red-handed as they tried to steal from a cookie jar. rolling his eyes, he turned his back on you and clasped his hands around his mouth, yelling out the name of his captain. as much as he’d enjoy watching someone walk the plank on that fine afternoon, he lacked in authority.

a piercing pain ran up his leg as jongho toppled over, his feet swept from under him. he landed on his back, face staring up to find you, no longer looking quite so defenceless now thanks to the sword you pressed against his throat. one foot stood against his chest to support your weight when you leaned down. “thanks for the welcoming, but i’m afraid this is an ambush.”

#ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez pirate au #pirate ateez

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!/ Playlist Here!

* Alright so here are the facts as you know them

* Gojo’s a goddamn player and a homewrecker

* The boy probably has half of Tokyo after him

* Not that you can blame them, that pretty face had you fooled at first too

* The second fact, it that for whatever reason, Gojo Satoru has chosen to play house with a future hopeful sorcerer named Megumi Fushiguro

* Which, through forces outside your control, you have become involved with as well

* And the last fact, was that as soon as this no longer interested him or benefited him in any way, Gojo Satoru would abandon the situation entirely and act like it never happened

* So-

* “(Y/N/N), you look nice today, did you do something new with your hair?” Gojo sings

* - pray tell, why is the school prince is currently sitting on top of your desk, looking at you with those heart eyes

* “Oi what do you think you’re doing?” You ask, a vein threatening to pop on your forehead

* “I’m flirting with you~” he sings, only leaning closer with that all-too-pleased smile

* “I’m pretty sure this is bullying” you reply

* Ever since you’ve started pseudo-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki, Gojo’s been doing crap like this,

* Sometimes he tries to feed you at lunch,

* “Open wide (Y/N/N)~” He’ll sing as he holds out a piece of sushi towards you on some chopsticks

* Only for Megumi to eat it instead

* “Why do you look so sad papa, I thought you said I was your pride and joy”

* other times he’s holding doors open for you

* “Ah here let me-“

* You watch as he walks across from you and opens the door to a random void shrine

* You look at him before sighing and opening your own door to the library

* The other day you mentioned how you didn’t get to try the limited edition Sakura Pepsi and came back to your dorm with a bottle on your desk

* Which would be cute- if the bottle wasn’t half-empty with a note that he’d that said

* “Sorry, I got thirsty on the way back”

* Seriously he’s the worst- and yet,

* You turned away from Megumi and Gojo bickering, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were,

* you hid your laugh behind your hand as Gojo jogs to catch up with you, saying he was just trying to predict your needs-

* And you held the half-full bottle of Sakura Pepsi to your chest, keeping it on your window sill

* Because you love him-

* Even though you know he’s just doing all these things to entertain himself instead of out of genuine affection

* Even though these feeling will do nothing but hurt you

* You still love him

* He makes your life feel exciting and fun

* And more than that, underneath that moronic playboy exterior, is a gentle, lonely heart

* A heart that will run away as soon as it knows how you feel about it

* So you mask your budding feelings as best as you can

* Because the only thing you imagine is more painful than knowing your feelings won’t be returned-

* Is not having Gojo Satoru in your life at all

* So you do your best to pretend like nothing has changed

* You act just as indifferent as you always have-

* “Here-“ you push your dessert in Gojo’s direction. “You like sweets right?”

* His smile is so radiant you almost have to shield your eyes

* Well, mostly indifferent anyway

* Not that the self-absorbed moronic prince has seemed to notice anyway

* Too busy focusing on the scrumptious piece of cake in front of him

* Still Gojo isn’t one to be underestimated, he looks to you with a twinkle in his eyes

* “Let’s share it!”

* So far he’s tried twice to have an indirect kiss with you, and he’s missed twice

* He even threw away those chopsticks when Megumi ate that piece of sushi in frustration

* But you know what they say, third times the charm

* You look at Gojo with a raised eyebrow, gaze flicking between the cake and his face

* What, did he imbue some cursed energy so it would explode when you tried to take a bite

* “No thanks”

* Cue Gojo crying as he eats his cake

* He’s really been doing his best lately to earnestly pursue you

* But for some reason, you just don’t get it

* “I like you,” Gojo says as you’re walking side by side on your way back to the dorm after visiting Megumi

* You look back at him, and Gojo feels a blush start to fan across his face

* He finally did it! He finally confessed to you

* And his heart is drumming away in his chest

* You don’t seem to understand the monumental significance of what just occurred because what your mind heard was

* “I {really} like {teasing} you”

* You sigh, your heart skipped a beat, for a second you almost got your hopes up

* There’s no way lady killer Gojo Satoru would ever pick you to be one of his lovers, and if he did it would just be so you could be apart of his personal harem

* “Ok”

* And then you turn around and walk away

* Gojo can’t help but feel like this is retribution for all the times one of his romantic partners has said ‘I love you’

* And he responded with:

* “Why would you do that to yourself?”

* Or

* “Cool”

* At first he thinks it’s a straight-up rejection, but he figures out pretty fast that you just didn’t get it when you keep acting the same as you always have around him

* But don’t get it wrong babe, none of this deters Gojo in the slightest

* “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask

* You’re both in the library, but only one of you is actually studying

* Gojo’s been staring at you with an oddly fixated gaze

* Honestly it’s got you feeling an uncomfortable heat spreading from your face to your neck

* “I’m not giving up you know”

* Giving up on what?!?

* What’s going on right now!!?

* But Gojo doesn’t offer any more insight choosing instead to finally bother reading the book in his hands

* What a weird guy

* You look down to your own book

* You feel the heat linger on your face and neck

* It��s because he’s always saying crap like that, that you’ve caught feelings for him

* Well whatever, everything fades right? Eventually, Gojo will probably lose interest in you-

* He’s part of a clan do you imagine they’ll find a nice girl from a respectable family for him to marry

* They’ll probably have a few kids who’ll be next in line to succeed him

* And by then he’ll be in such a prominent position that you’ll never see him again

* He’ll just be a memory

* Some boy you had a youthful unrequited love with

* The thought makes your heart clench but-

* “It’s for the best,” you tell yourself

* You’re going in completely opposite directions in life, you couldn’t possibly home for anything more than what you have

* After all your luck probably ran out the second you saw his face

* The most beautiful man you’ll ever see

* “I bet he would be one of those handsome grandpas when he gets older” you snort

* The kind that charms and flirts with young men and women just because he knows the effect he has on them.

* You still can’t believe you fell in love with someone like that

* “What a pain” you mumble to yourself, falling back on your bed

* You feel uncertain, afraid of the future even.

* Maybe a snack will help

* It’s the middle of the night, way past the time you were supposed to go to bed when you see him in the kitchen

* Great the last person you wanted to run into

* He’s just standing there in front of the fridge with the door open

* He hasn’t even turned around to say hi or anything

* “Oi Baka prince if you leave the door open like that every-“

* You stop mid-word, you only need one look at his face to know something is wrong

* It’s not all that uncommon for him to do something like this-

* See the thing is, Gojo knows he’s strong enough that he will get to choose when he dies- he’s not bound by the same pain the other sorcerers are, but-

* Well, he’s still going to die

* No matter how much he thinks he’s like god, no matter how powerful he is,

* He’s still going to die

* And growing up with the power he’s had and the mindset that he’s the strongest

* The realization can be pretty crippling

* He so afraid of the uncertainty that brings that most times he can’t move

* The worst part is it’s never when he’s actively thinking about death, or even when he’s on the job

* It’s always at times like this when he’s just woken up and is oddly hungry and he’ll remember

* “Oh, I’m going to die aren’t I?”

* And then it’s like he’s frozen solid

* What is it he usually tells the victims that enter his domain?

* “Funny how when you can do everything, you find you can’t do anything”

* Usually he manages to unfreeze after some unspecified amount of time, getting through it on his own

* But this time, when he finally escapes from the domain of his inner mind he’s covered in a layer of sweat just like always-

* But he’s not sure why he sprawled across the floor

* Not until his head shifts a little, only to see your face looming over him

* Omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg

* He’s resting his head in your lap!!!

* Honestly this has been a fantasy of his for a while, to have his head in your lap while looking at the cherry blossoms, and you feed him chocolates and a gentle wind caresses your face

* BUT NOT LIKE THIS

* “Feeling better?” You ask

* Gojo thinks he might combust, he moves to sit up but winces

* He’s got the worst headache, these little episodes of his do typically end with a migraine

* Your hand feels nice and cold as it rests against his forehead

* “Rest a little longer, we’re not in any hurry”

* Aaaaand now he’s screaming on the inside again

* “Sorry about this” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile

* It’s oddly endearing to see a shy Gojo Satoru

* “I bet your lovers would kill me if they saw knew you were showing me such a cute side” you’re half-joking when you say it, but you’re also half-serious

* It gives your Ego a little boost to know you’ve seen a side of him that most of his lovers probably haven’t

* You doubt the mighty Gojo Satoru ever allows himself to be this vulnerable, not even while he’s in the throes of passion

* So that same earnest look on his face startles you

* “I don’t have any other lovers”

* You snort

* “Sure, and I definitely didn’t steal Geto’s pudding that he was saving”

* “I’m being serious”

* Gojo sighs, here he is feeling awfully vulnerable and you still seem denser than a rock

* Do you think he would let anyone other than you see him like this

* “When are you going to realize that if it’s not you then it’s just no good?”

* Your heart is drumming in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it

* Your mind is telling you to pull back, that this is way too good to be true, that this will only hurt you,

* You should get away while you still have a chance

* But instead something in you persists and you say:

* “Why do you think that is”

* Gojo’s hand reaches up, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, those clear blue eyes looking straight into yours

* Your breath stutters in your chest

* You always have been weak for those eyes

* His pink lips curl up into a smile

* “Because I love you”

* And before you know what you’re doing your bending down, pressing your lips against his

* “I love you too”

Bonus:

* “You can see through it right?” You ask

* Gojo fidgets with the blindfold, honestly he was hoping for a much kinkier reason than replacing his scuffed sunglasses when you gave him the blindfold

* “It’s a little darker, but that’s not a bad thing.”

* His hair is out of his face too which is nice

* But-

* “What’s with the sudden gift?”

* It’s not exactly out of character for you to get the people you care about something, but this seems a little outside of your usual MO

* “I just felt like it” You mumble

* Now that his eyes are covered up you think he might attract a little less attention, and all his former flings probably won’t be able to recognize him

* Your eyes drift to his uniform, even in the gross pantsuit you can still tell he’s got a pretty nice body,

* But you’ll have to adjust

* Gojo sees right through your nonchalant answer, smiling that wolfish grin

* “Aw was my sweetie scared I was going to leave them?” He coos, moving ever so close

* You only turn away your face

* Gojo only grins wider

* “Honey~ you should know by now if it’s not you then I’m not interested” he sings in your ear

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanon #gojo satoru reader insert #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #superhero--imagines

507 notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

bands | sixteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, angst, anxiety, alcohol consumption, slight intoxication, physical abuse, slight verbal abuse, belittling, mentions of cuts/wounds but nothing too graphic, mentions of coke

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos @un2-verse @aynsx @wearenot7withu @knjeuphoria @bringitseijoh (closed!)

Jungkook laid on the dorm couch, legs sprawled out as he wore his hood and covered his face as much as possible. He shut his eyes, trying to make sense of the cryptic texts you had sent him.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

"I can't do this, Jungkook."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm only trouble."

"We aren't going to work."

He repeatedly called you, asking for an explanation, a way to help make things better because none of this should have been the reason for you to want to call it 'quits' like that. He asked for you to talk to him. He'd call and after two rings, it'd bring him straight to voicemail. It never failed. Indeed, there was much more to the text but he only fixated on a few lines, and those few lines seem to be circling his head time and time again with no sign of leaving him alone.

"I think I'm falling in too deep and I need to stop this while I can. You hear them, you hear the shit they say. I would never let them ruin you, I don't want them to. You deserve better. Maybe it's true that I don't fit into this."

It frustrates him, every single time. Where the hell did he go wrong? Why was there a sudden change? Something was off, and god forbid if his assumptions were right. But, everything was leading right back to it. The way you called in sick, the way you shut everyone out. The way you texted him these things, wouldn't pick up his calls just to tell him you're busy or whatever the hell it was. It didn't sound like you. It didn't seem like you at all.

All things led right back to the club. To Bigs. Where you felt high and mighty. Wanted. Like no one could ever hurt you the way they did outside of the club because they worshipped you in there. They knelt down to you. The way you were so fucking tough there. He knew this is where you would fall back if things got rough. He couldn't help but think that you had been forced into it though, because he knew you didn't give a shit about that anymore. Ah well, forced or not, it just felt so off. Unusual.

"Hey." Namjoon sits on the floor near Jungkook's head. "You good?" He asks even though he's fully aware he's not. Joon hates those people who ask if something's wrong when clearly, something is wrong — however, he wasn't really sure how else to open up this conversation without coming off too pushy or forward. Too insensitive, even.

"Nope."

"What's going on?" Jungkook sighs as he tries to lower his hood even more, although there's no more of his hood to lower. He keeps his hand on his face, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"I don't know." Now, going back to earlier — everyone can tell Jungkook isn't happy. They've tried to butter him up and make him feel better even though they knew you were the only person who could truly make him happy again. They've tried to talk to him in one way or another, but they never forced him if he didn't want to. The only person that really hasn't said much was Jimin, and that also pisses him off because if he had anything to do with this, he will surely fuck him up for ruining his happiness.

"You hear from Y/N? She still sick? Does she need anything?"

"She's not sick."

"Hm?" Joon slightly turns back, confused.

"Something else is wrong."

"Like what?"

"She's not picking up my calls. Not answering my texts the way she normally does. When she does, it's super blunt or one worded."

"Maybe she's really not feeling well, or just caught up with things—"

"No, hyung. I know her, she always has her priorities straight. Even if she was sick, she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't go as far as to shutting her own brother out."

"Idol life too overwhelming? I get it." Jimin jokes as he walks into the kitchen, making Jungkook shoot his head up to glare at him.

"The fuck, can you not? I don't see why you feel the need to joke around right now."

"Jeez, sorry. I just thought I'd lighten up the mood somehow."

"Come on, dude." Namjoon looks at him with disappointment, Jimin only returning the gesture by rolling his eyes and walking away. "How can I help you?" Joon asks, returning his attention back to Jungkook.

"Maybe I was being selfish bringing her into all of this. These people— they're fucking mean, and she's already had her fair share of dealing with mean people. How am I supposed to protect her all while not feeling selfish about it?"

"You're not selfish, who told you that?"

"Jimin." That's like strike.. whatever to Namjoon at this point. Why the hell was Jimin being so fucking weird?

"Look, I know it's not easy in this industry. But I think what you can do is prove to her that you won't hurt her, especially with everyone around her doing nothing but hurting her. You need to show her that you're different from the rest of them, that she can fully trust you. If I were in her shoes, to be honest, it would be scary for me. You got a whole lot of shit going on in your life. You're expected to provide a lot, and on top of that, you haven't had the best reputation with women."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Then, nothing else matters. You keep fighting for her if she really matters to you. Does she?"

"Of course she does, I mean, can't you tell? I've never been this way over someone." Joon nods.

"You sure as fuck haven't. It still catches me and the guys by surprise. But, I'm happy to see someone helping you become a better person. She's been nothing but genuinely sweet, and I know she already does a hell of a job taking care of you."

"She's— I don't know. She's become so important to me."

"I know she has, and I'm happy to hear that. I really am." Joon sighs. "So tell me, what can I do? I hate seeing you like this."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not allowed at the club. Bigs will do anything to get back at me for what I did to him. He won't hesitate."

"I won't let him. We won't. You really think she went back?" Jungkook nods.

"Positive. Something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. And I feel like she was egged into this. I don't like it one bit."

"Want me to go check out the club tonight?"

"Yeah, please?" Jungkook says. "But don't be too obvious. Bring Jin hyung or someone who could use a lap dance or two."

"Sooo Jin hyung?" They chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"And if she's there?"

"Then I'm going straight to her tomorrow night. I just need to make sure I do this right because I don't want her or Kai to get hurt. I'll stay out there if I have to just to make sure she doesn't go back. What else do I have to do—" Jungkook pauses to stop himself because this clearly wasn't you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck made her do this?"

"Bigs, who else?"

"No, she wouldn't listen to just Bigs. He's definitely working with someone and using shit against her."

"Okay, let's just not assume the worst. I'll head there tonight and drag Jin hyung with me."

"Thanks hyung, I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Joon gently massages his shoulder before getting up from his spot to make his way back to his room.

All Jungkook can think about doing is sleeping more right now. He'll send the occasional text to check on Kai and see how he was doing, but they both worried too much about you and Jungkook would hate to tell him that you ended up going back to the club. He didn't think he would tell him, he didn't think he'd have to because he was gonna make sure to get you out of there before shit hit the roof again. If it hasn't already, and he's hoping it hasn't.

And so when Namjoon and Jin hyung [obviously in need of that lap dance or two] head out to the club, Jungkook stays in his dorm room, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body even though he can't do shit besides sit here and wait. He goes through the random pictures he's taken of you - the cute, candid photos he had of you, the cute candid photo of you as his lock screen. He deletes all the texts in his inbox even though he knows it might have been a little late. It honestly hasn't mattered to him in such a long time, but he just never got around to wiping his inbox clean since he was so caught up with you - his baby.

"Is this going to turn into some kind of action movie? We bust through the doors, take down all the guards and steal Y/N?"

"No, hyung. Jesus. Do you forget you're an idol? That's probably the very last thing we should do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We just walk in there like we normally do?"

"Boring."

"Plus, we can't have Bigs onto us like that. We have to act like we don't know anything."

"Do you really think he's using something against her?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest though, I think Jimin's involved."

"W-what?" Jin says, furrowing his brows. "No, he can't be."

"Trust me. He always acts so weird around her, and he's probably the one person who hasn't taken this as seriously. He hasn't said anything to Jungkook."

"But why though?"

"I don't know, beats me. I just don't think he respects her. Or, likes her. Whatever it is."

"She hasn't done anything to him though."

"That makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Look hyung, I'm not. I just think he's involved. My gut says so. We'll find out whether I'm right or not, right?"

"I hope you aren't. That'll really mess Kookie up."

"Well. I love him, but he'll have to learn the hard way for butting into someone else's business like that. No matter what the reason is." Namjoon parks the car and fixes his rolled up sleeves before adjusting the Rolex on his wrist. He looks at Jin once more, nodding in approval once they both feel like they've fixed themselves enough to look presentable, not questionable.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up your time on stage so you headed to the back to take a break. Bigs hadn't given you the option to secure private bookings knowing damn well there would be opportunity for Jungkook and some of his boys to slip through and try to work their magic in private. As much as possible, you were just trying to protect Jungkook, even though you knew he wouldn't back down without a fight. You knew Bigs wasn't all that tough, but right now, he seemed to hold a lot of power with Jimin being on his team. And you knew damn well it was Jimin all along. Did you have concrete evidence? No. But your gut feeling might as well be enough with the way he talks to you. Why else would Bigs all of a sudden feel all mighty? Bigs had threatened Jungkook and your brother enough to keep your mouth shut. Enough to keep your attitude level at a 0.

The scene played in your head over and over again—

"I gave you a better life, you ungrateful piece of shit. You do as I say and your little Jungkook and your little Kai won't get hurt. You think I'm scared of them, sweetie? You think I'm scared of you? Your stepfather don't give a damn about you two. I can easily send my men down to do their magic, especially after how Jungkook treated me. Is that how he repays me after all the special treatment I've given him?" Mr. Bigs hunched over you. "You two wanna play me like a fool, I'll show you two what it's like to be played like a fool." He pulled on your hair before aggressively releasing and spitting to the side.

There was no way they would get dragged into this. Not anymore. They didn't deserve to be included in this no matter what it was.

Boy, did you miss Jungkook. Everything about him. It took everything in you not to come running back. It took everything in you not to answer those calls or texts like you normally would.

You chose him, every single time. You wish he knew that. Him and Kai.

You sighed, sipping on the flask you snuck in. The alcohol relieving you of any pain, helping you feel numb as the night goes on. You didn't want to feel tonight, you just didn't. Why would you, when everything had just been hurting you lately?

You had just finished dancing out on the main stage, throwing your ass back to some Megan and Cardi. A few other dancers were gathered at a vanity, sneakily sniffing lines of coke while Bigs and his men were busy paroling the main stage.

"You want some of this, sis? In celebration of you coming back?" One of the other dancers smirks at you. You simply shake your head no and return to the flask in your hand.

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, well it's here if you want it. Just let me know, babe." Her and the other dancers go back to their business on the vanity. However, another dancer continues to eye you, sympathy filling her expression as she approaches you while you sip on your flask once more. You were starting to feel pretty tipsy again, hoping you could just hide out in the back 'till the very end of your shift.

"Y/N." She says, her hand gently on your arm. "You okay?"

"I'm good." You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from tearing up. Those words were triggering for you because you were not okay, whatsoever.

"Why did you come back, babe?" She genuinely asks, worried about you. "Did Bigs do something?"

"No." You lied. "Things just didn't work out elsewhere I guess, and I need money."

"Didn't work out? I saw the way Jungkook handled Bigs that night." If anything, she was probably the one dancer who paid attention to the environment around her. Everyone else was oblivious to the shit that's been happening and that's because they didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Her stage name was Trixie, but her real name was Miki. She too didn't really enjoy being here but her parents talked so much about how she was useless and couldn't make it out in the world, especially as a vlogger. She loved it. She loved being in front of the camera and talking to the world thru the lens. But her parents thought it was dumb— that she was dumb for even wanting to grow a career online like that. Besides all of it, she remained sweet, and she was always super nice to you. You wouldn't be surprised if she knew about you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. She never treated you wrong. She knew Bigs had a tendency to overstep and abuse the power he had with his status and his money. However, she knew he was a big coward and that he was all talk, no play — especially if it was outside of the club. He may be a big honcho here, but outside, he had no chance. And she couldn't wait until the day he'd get his for all the mess he's caused.

"Yeah well, things happen." She shakes her head.

"Y/N, you can talk to me. Look, as much as I love seeing your face, you have so much potential. You don't deserve to be stuck here. Let me help you figure this out."

"I'm okay, Miki. Thank you, though." She nods, not wanting to press you any further.

"Well, I'm here for you." She gives your arm one good squeeze before walking off.

Eventually, the rest of the dancers retreat back out onto the floor, leaving you to hide away in the back room as long as possible — which is why Namjoon can't get a glimpse of you anywhere out in the main area. Bigs is actually a little taken aback to see both him and Jin walking through the club, even after everything that has gone down. But hey, business is business— and if they weren't gonna cause any trouble, so be it. He knows though, he knows full well there's a possibility they're here for you.

"Boys! Long time no see!" He greets them, Joon and Jin giving him a toothless smile in return. "How've you been? What brings you in?"

"Mr. Bigs." Namjoon says, smoothing down his shirt. "Ah, we're good, just getting busy prepping for the tour. Wanted to take a little breather tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you guys came here to do so. Can I get you two anything to drink?" The both of them shake their heads. "Anything to help relieve that stress?"

"We're good, thanks. Just gonna sit out on the floor for a bit."

"You two let me know if there's anything I can do for you, at all." Bigs smiles at them as he begins to watch them walk away. "Make sure she's covered." Bigs slightly turns his head to speak through the headset mic, alerting his men to keep an eye out. He thinks he's said it low enough so that Jin and Namjoon don't hear, but Jin catches the movement in his peripherals, causing him to pinch Joon's bicep.

"Back room." Jin says, subtly nodding towards the backroom as he keeps his gaze out on the main stage and adjusts his tie. Namjoon looks around to see Bigs has welcomed himself to the other side of the club, speaking to a few customers, looking distracted.

"I'm gonna go see if I can talk to her."

"Talk?! You said we were just scoping her out. Don't cause any trouble, Namjoon-ah. Please."

"Oh, now you suddenly don't want this action movie to come alive?! You sure were talking a whole lot about it in the car."

"Since when do you even take me seriously?!"

"I always take you seriously, hyung!"

"How about you just sneak towards the back door and get her attention? You said we can't go all out like that!"

"There's guards there too."

"Look, I just don't want you or Y/N to get hurt. Maybe we should just lay low and figure out how we can approach this better."

"Hey, can I get you two anything?" Miki interrupts, fully aware of who they are and what they're here for.

"No, sweetie. Thank you." Jin responds, flashing his 100-watt smile.

"You looking for Y/N?"

"Depends who's asking?" Namjoon says, trying to keep his guard up.

"Look, I'm not gonna rat you out if that's what you think." She puts her hand on her hip, tray still balancing on her free hand. "She's in the backroom. But there's no way you can get to her. Bigs is watching her for whatever reason."

"Yeah, we're aware. Can you send her a message for me?"

"Sure. You have 10 seconds though or else Bigs is gonna be onto you." She points towards Bigs slowly making his way back.

"Just tell her that Jungkook is worried about her and wants to help. Or, we want to help. We just wanna know what's going on."

"I'll try, but she didn't let up when I asked earlier."

"Thanks." Joon sighs.

"Shoo, I'll find you guys around." She says, sneakily walking off towards the bar with her empty tray as Bigs starts to eye the main floor. Jin and Namjoon welcome themselves to a seat on the side of the stage, acting normal as possible by throwing bills onto the stage for the dancers. Miki tends to her customers before she's setting her tray down and pretending to take a cigarette from her bra to take a quick "break." She heads to the back to see you still sitting at your vanity, head resting against the palm of your hand.

"Babe." You turn to look at her, eyes slightly glossed over.

"Hm?"

"RM and Jin are here. They said they want to help you, and if you can tell them anything, that's all they'd want."

"Miki—"

"Girl, look. Don't let this man keep running your life like this. I don't care what he said or did, this isn't you. You need to get out of here and you need to let people in. People who genuinely care about you." You sigh.

"How is that possible when Jungkook's own bestfriend doesn't even like me? And ontop of that, Bigs even dragged my little brother and my evil ass stepfather into this. I can't let anything happen to him, he's the only thing I have."

"I get that, and I'm sure Jungkook will do whatever it takes to protect you both. Why are RM and Jin here then? Whatever Jungkook's other friend's issue is, he needs to figure it out. It's obviously his own problem, something he created himself for no reason."

"I know he's helping Bigs keep me away from Jungkook. All the hurtful shit in the media, all the shit he's been tossing in my face. Whatever, I get it. He wins. I don't belong."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and I know even if I chose Jungkook, he'd choose his bestfriend over me. Why would he go against that? They've been together for so long. I'm a fucking nobody." Miki knows this is all the alcohol running through your veins, but at least now, she knows Bigs isn't doing this on his own [as she assumed, he's a fucking pussy for the most part - he's a pussy who got handsy with the dancers cause that's all he can do to feed his ego].

"I don't think that's true, and I don't think it's a fair assumption when he's stayed by your side, hasn't he? He hasn't given up on you." She says before walking out. Really, things were just completely scrambled in your head. Just fucked up. Your questions, your uncertainty was strong enough to pull you towards the negative - the what if's, the assumptions, the rumors, the shit-talking. After all that, the positives were dim.

Miki grabs her tray and serves the first couple of customers in dire need of their drinks before she heads over to Jin and Namjoon to spill the information she received from that conversation.

"She won't budge. It sounds like a lot of this shit talking got to her head, so she came back to make herself feel better but then Bigs ended up turning this around on her, threatening Jungkook and her brother. If I were you, I'd get Jungkook to her before she can even come back here. Make sure her brother is with him too. Bigs is all talk but being the guys that you are — I wouldn't take any chances to ruin your reputation and all that." She smacks on her gum. "And I hate to tell you this, but one of your little friends has been working with Bigs. I don't know who, but you better let that little shit know he was wrong for getting in her head like that. She deserves way better." She says with a punch of attitude before walking away.

"Jimin?" Jin mouths out to Namjoon, who only shrugs in response.

"Let's go." Namjoon tosses a couple of more bills before they head out.

"Have a good evening, boys." Bigs yells out, causing the two of them to return a tight-lipped smile.

"Are we going to tell Kookie about Jimin?"

"No? Because we don't even know ourselves. His name was never dropped, and we'll look dumb if we acted on assumptions."

"This is so fucked up." Jin sighs, looking out the window.

"You're telling me."

When they finally arrive back at the dorm, Namjoon and Jin find Jungkook pacing around in his room, tossing a rubber ball against the wall to keep himself occupied. His doe eyes dart over to them, letting the ball drop to the floor while he nervously walks closer to them.

"So?"

"I'm sorry, dude." Joon sighed. "From what it sounds like, all this mess just got to her head so she went back to the club to make herself feel better. But Bigs ended up bringing you and her brother into the situation so, I'm assuming she's distancing herself to protect you in some way?" Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. "Honestly, I really don't know, that's as much as we got."

"We didn't even talk to her or see her, some other dancer helped us out. I guess she's a friend of hers? Or maybe she just likes Y/N. She wanted to help." Jin says.

"Fuck!" Jungkook groans, slamming his hand down onto his bed. "Why couldn't she just talk to me? We could have figured this out."

"Look, I'm sure there's a lot more to it and I'm sure it's difficult for her. Promise me you'll hear her out when you see her."

"I mean, yeah I know, I will. But, how did this get to her head so easily? I really can't wrap my head around it, I—" He catches how tense Joon and Jin suddenly get. He watches them nervously looking at each other, making him cock his head to the side and furrow his brows. "Wait, what is it? You know something else, don't you?"

"I mean there's really no concrete facts behind it so we can't necessarily say it's true."

"Well?" Jungkook asks, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. But, before they could go any further, Jungkook's ringtone echos in the room. He quickly turns in case it's you calling, but he picks up anyway because it's someone equally as important.

"Kai?"

"C-can you come pick me up? My sister isn't picking up. I'll send you Eric's address." Jungkook worries when he hears the shakiness in his voice, his tone low to a whisper.

"Yeah, sit tight. I'll be right there." He hangs up, darting out of his room, Namjoon and Jin following after him.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get to Kai."

"Let us come with!"

"Look, it'll be quicker if I go myself—"

"Jungkook-ah, stop. We're not gonna let you go alone." Joon and Jin make it just in time to join him in the elevator, heading straight for his car even if it's nearing 1am. Jungkook pulls up Kai's location, pressing on the gas to rush over there just in case Kai was hurt. And yes, Jungkook was going to give it to your fucking stepfather if he sees anything on Kai. He will fucking destroy him, he promises.

Jungkook, Namjoon and Jin walk into the house quietly, seeing Kai putting his finger up to his lips when he meets them near the kitchen.

"What happened?" Jungkook whispers, handing his bags over to Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook looks at the small hint of blood pooling near his nostrils and the cut near his eyebrow.

"I'll explain in the car, can you just take me to—"

"Really? Calling your sister's boyfriend and his friends over to save you? You really are a helpless little shit." Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are all shielding each other and Kai from Eric, Jungkook's blood boiling seeing him standing there, clearly very drunk and not in the right state of mind.

"Aye, don't fucking talking to him like that." Jungkook's spits out, making Eric laugh.

"First you fall for my slut of a daughter, now you help rescue him? I thought you were so much better than that, Jungkook. You aren't the person people portrayed you to be. Shittiest idol I know. All of you."

"You don't know me." Eric snorts.

"You guys do know I help sponsor your shit right? I play a big role for you, don't come into my house acting like—" He slurs his words.

"Yeah, well fuck the contract." Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Better yet, don't fucking worry about it, I'll make sure to take care of it for you."

"You need me." Eric says, almost at a growl. "You need me and Bigs—"

"Since when?" Namjoon responds in a mocking manner as he begins to usher Jin, Jungkook and Kai towards the front door. "If you wanna send your people over, you can let them know I'm free tomorrow in the late afternoon. I'll be more than happy to tell 'em what kind of sick person you are."

"You can't just take him—" Eric tries to flip the script, obviously unaware that Kai has already turned 18. He grips onto Kai's arm and tries to pull him back, except he's intoxicated, so Jungkook easily pushes him off. He watches as Eric hits a bar stool, stumbling over himself before he drunkily falls on his ass.

"You're such a sad excuse of a stepfather, you aren't even aware he's 18 already. He doesn't need you." Jungkook scoffs. "I'm gonna send people for the rest of Kai's shit tomorrow. And let's get this straight - we never needed you or Bigs. You both aren't shit without us and yout fucking empire thrives because of us. And if you do anything to Y/N, if you even think about working with Bigs on doing anything to her, I fucking promise you I will bury you alive. I won't stop until you have nothing left. Don't underestimate me."

youtube

everybody's angry and they're coming for me, but i can't give them energy that i won't receive; so i brush 'em off, i got a lot on my sleeve, like i'm moving backwards, but it's all on repeat; this place is getting crowded, i got no room to breathe

track twelve: hundred - khalid

407 notes · View notes

xiaosmoon · 3 years

Note

hello! i loved ur college au, so can i request that but for zhongli and kaeya pls? thank you!

the boys as your college roommate pt.2

pairings: zhongli & kaeya x gn!reader ft.hu tao (afab reader for kaeya)

content/warnings: fluffyyy, mentions of a seance. mentions of sex for kaeya's but no actual intercourse between the reader & kaeya

a/n: i got carried away with zhongli... ehe *ghost busters theme song*

-> zhongli

moving in with zhongli was an absolute delight. he was so respectful of your space and even helped you study!

you weren't really surprised to find out he was a history major. it's practically almost all he talked about, not that you minded.

today he came home with the biggest smile plastered on his face and pamphlet in hand. "there's a new history exhibit opening up around campus. i heard it's about the town's local history and war from over 800 years ago. uh if you'd like, we can go together?" and who were you to say no?

you knew this wasn't a date or anything, just two friends hanging out! because that's what friends do, right? once you and zhongli arrived, you both decided to go with a tour guide because even zhongli didn't know much about the town's history. "and this exhibit over here ladies and gentlemen tells you about the haunting of whitmore's house, ouuuuu!" the tour guide gave his worst ghostly impression.

you chuckle and turn to zhongli, who didn't seem as amused. "zhongli? you don't really believe in the haunting of whitmore's house, ouuuuu!" you gave your best mimic of the tour guide. he's eyes remains fixated on the small replica of the house. "hmm, i'm not sure. i am confused on why it would be in a history museum."

"well my friend, whitmore was a brave general during the war. he unfortunately got ambushed in his own home. legend has it you can still hear his screaming coming from his bedroom!" the tour guide made another ghostly mimic before leaving. that sent chills up your spine. "eugh, how awful." you crossed your arms. the distaste in your voice was very evident, so zhongli and you both decided to move on to the next exhibit.

later that night while you guys were deciding on what to have for dinner, there was very loud knocking sound at the door. "i'll get it." when you opened the door, you were met with an overly excited hu tao. she was bouncing on her toes with a up to no good grin.

"hu tao? i wasn't expecting you. come on in." you open the door wider and she makes a bee line for the couch. "weeee have plans tonight." she announces plopping down next to zhongli. "we do? i wasn't aware." zhongli raises his eyebrows.

hu tao was a good friend of zhongli's. although you didn't know her too well, you liked her spirit. "ohhh yes we do! we're having a seance at whitmore's house." her smile only grew wider. speaking of spirits. you on the other hand collapsed on the couch. "a seance? at a haunted house? you can count me out." you shiver. zhongli wanted to say he was surprised, but he really wasn't. hu tao was the president of the occult club after all.

"will it just be us?" zhongli's interest was piqued. "mmm no. a few of my club members will be joining us but i wanted to invite the two of you as well! i know you guys went to the museum today so i thought you'd be interested!" the way hu tao's eyes sparkled at this was a bit concerning.

you sigh, nibbling on your bottom lip in deep thought. oh, what the hell. it's not like you believe in this ghosts anyway. you slam your palms on the coffee table and stand up abruptly, making zhongli and hu tao flinch. "let's go catch some ghosts!"

now what the hell were you thinking?! the weather was freezing, and dark clouds painted the night, showing signs of a thunderstorm. you were shaking in your boots standing outside of the haunted house. if you can even call it that. it was more of an abandoned manor. a gate surrounded the property so it was a hassle to get to get in.

zhongli noticed your shaking, so he held your hand. you look up at him and he just shoots you a comforting smile. your body begins to shake less. "alright everyone, are we ready?" hu tao turns around to look at everyone. you all nod and follow hu tao inside. the atmosphere inside wasn't helping your nerves. the wallpaper was tearing from the walls, stains of water damaged, missing floorboards, and- was that a blood stain?

you must've clenched zhongli's hand too tight because he started rubbing his thumb across your intertwined hands to help calm you down. okay, deep breaths y/n. you can do this. besides, it's not like ghosts actually exist, right?

"wowwww look at this place! how about we explore for a bit? we can split up and meet up later here!" hu tao suggested. you were about to protest, but zhongli was already leading you away from the rest of the group. "is this really safe?" you ask him barely loud enough.

"don't worry. i'm here with you. and if you get too uncomfortable, i'm sure hu tao will understand that we had to leave." his words brought you enough comfort to keep your legs walking. you clung to zhongli's side as you explored the eerie hallway with nothing but a dim flashlight. "i wonder which room was his." zhongli mumbled mindlessly. your body tensed up at his statement and you shook your head. "i'm sure hu tao is on the hunt for it." you tried to joke, but the fear building up in the pit of your stomach was just too much.

the gods were definitely against you. the flashlight zhongli was holding had gone out. "oh great. good thing we have our phones." you reached out for your phone in your pocket and hastily turned the flashlight on. "oh, seems like i forgot my phone. let's find hu tao."

for the rest of the night, your hand never left zhongli's. even when you heard a ghoulish scream coming from the upper level

-> kaeya

being roommates with kayea was very, well, exhilarating. he wasn't a terrible roommate but he was totally a fuckboy. you had to set boundaries when you heard unwanted noises coming from him and his friends on the other side of your wall almost every night.

he apologized for his behavior and promised to never let it happen again. until it did.

it was midnight and you were awoken by the very evident sex noises coming from kaeya's room. it had to have been his 3rd person this week. he thought he was being slick by sneaking his links over while you were fast asleep. you were finally going to put a stop to this.

deciding enough was enough, you angrily rip off the blanket on your body and shuffle into your bunny slippers. you march over to kaeya's room and knock very loudly on his door. "kaeya my love, is everything alright. seems like quite a ruckus in there. i'm coming in."

without shame, you open up the door wide to find kaeya and his flavor of the week hiding under his covers. well, time to put your acting skills to use. "oh! kaeya! what's this? how could you! even after i told you about our baby just yesterday?! what am i suppose to do now? i can't deal with this!" you burst out into the fakest tears kaeya has ever seen. kaeya had the most horrific expression on his face. the girl beside him was disgusted. she slapped kaeya, "you told me you were single! your s/o is pregnant! you disgusting man." she grabbed all of her clothes littered on the floor and left the place almost like she was never there.

as soon as she left, you wiped away your fake tears. "what a performance am i right? i'll make a great movie star in the future." kaeya clenched his bedsheets closer to his body and looked at you like he's seen a ghost. "what the hell was that? what did you-" "i told you specifically not to bring anymore of your hookups to our shared dorm. this isn't just your space, kaeya." you crossed your arms and squinted your eyes. he huffed and fell back on his bed. "yeah but did you have to be so dramatic about it? now everyone's gonna think you're pregnant with my baby."

oh. you didn't even think about that. "that's a problem for later. right now i need you to seriously promise me no more hookups. i'm getting tired." kaeya propped himself on his elbows. he knows he was being unfair and totally disrespectful. it was your place too and he shouldn't keep up his antics. "okay. i promise. i swear this time. i'm sorry."

and so he really did keep his promise. in fact, his hookups in general became less and less prominent, until he stopped hooking up with people at all. why? well because he developed feelings for you. he never planned on it, but it kinda just happened.

he realized his feelings when you first brought a date over to your dorm. he didn't like the way you flirted with them and how you laughed at all of their jokes. they should be laughing at my jokes, he thought.

so after that, he began dropping hints that he liked you. of course you never picked up on them. kaeya being a flirt was a normal thing. so it only made sense for you to not pick up what he was putting down.

but kaeya was determined. he was determined to make you his. he just needed a little push.

#zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is.

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself.

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards.

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier.

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones.

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?”

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach.

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage.

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?”

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse.

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life.

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you.

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand.

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning.

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth.

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water.

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?”

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong.

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go.

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you.

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him.

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily.

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table.

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice.

He was just that damn good.

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that.

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself.

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning.

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on.

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back.

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly.

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice.

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know.

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.”

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more.

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods.

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom.

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice.

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed.

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest.

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad.

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together.

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times.

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring.

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere.

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch.

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.”

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out.

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention.

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.”

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction.

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief.

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye.

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.”

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way.

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible.

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.”

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say.

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes.

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him.

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you.

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it.

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it?

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door.

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.”

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being.

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame.

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze.

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more.

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.”

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.”

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself.

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him.

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head.

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air.

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself.

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end?

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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kaijurakunsobs · 3 years

Note

If requests are open could you do a Heisenberg fic with a teen or young adult reader(no older than 20 please) who stumbles into the village trying to get away from their parents and after they get attacked by Lycans Heisenberg patches them up and takes them in trying to hide them from his sister and mother miranda. Could you please do it with an AFAB reader who doesn’t identify as female? I am currently dealing with borderline verbal abuse from my conservative father who doesnt like that though I am AFAB I don’t identify as female.

first, baby, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I know how bad and mentally taxing that kind of living situation can get, I was in a similar situation and somehow managed to pull through.

you are not alone, you are loved and I hope everything gets better, never forget that it's you who defines yourself, your self worth should NEVER be defined by others

All you can think is...how cold everything is around you, how the freezing air burns your skin and lungs, but, you have endured something worst, physical pain can be healed with time, emotional and psychological pain is what hurts the most, what feels eternal and haunting, it coils around you, it grows and never let's go, like being branded, it leaves marks that never go away.

Running aimlessly through the snow feels like nothing.

What made you get out of the car?

Was it anger?

Desperation?

Does that even matter anymore?

You can't hear their voices anymore, so that's a win.

Farther away you see smoke and fain lights, distant sounds beckoning you closer to that place, and you let yourself smile widely when the silhouette of someone standing so close to you, you could get help, start somewhere new, be happy!

But it's so short-lived, that you question if there's divine retribution, karma, or just the universe laughing in your face.

Your "savior" is covered in blood, a man with a perpetual expression of agony lays in the snow, dead. The monster turns to you and finally the cold freezes you where you stand, it's not alone, and all the other creatures are looking at you, dark soulless eyes fixated on their new prey.

You have felt like that before under his gaze like if you were vermin, it made you furious how you were treated and consider as something lesser than a person. These things look at you the same like you are just a speck of dust in their path, and maybe you are, if the mangled body is any indication that taking a life will be nothing for them.

You see it from the corner of your eye, one of them lunges for you, and then? everything is a blur.

You remember kicking and punching wildly, adrenaline making you forget about the pain of the bites and scratches, there are memories of you running and using something to smash the head of one of the monsters, a rock, perhaps? But in the end, cold, blood loss, and exhaustion are enough to bring you to your knees. One of them grabs a fistful of hair and roars in your face and you know, that, this is it, you fought and did your best, but this is the end of your travesty...so much for your new life of freedom.

"Get the fuck away...I SAID FUCK OFF!" his voice is so loud that it makes you whimper and recoil "LET GO, CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? LET GO, DAMN IT!" the smell of blood and a warm liquid hits you hard, but at least you are free, letting your body hit the snow

"What do we have here?...this one is alive, but ya ain't from around here, do you?" he's smoking and something small and silly wants you to tell him that smoking is bad, which makes you smile so softly "...Interesting"

Heisenberg rarely gets intrigued by anything, he hasn't found anything to spark his curiosity in so long, so of course, he had to come and see what was causing such a commotion. What he thought to be a villager, fist fighting the lycans so valiantly, turned out to be a teenager, he saw you from afar, furiously kicking lycan after lycan, you didn't even notice the growing red spots in your clothes and the black eye, it was survival and feral like behavior. Truly interesting.

Now, what made him pick you up with care? years from today he will say it was just "Scientific interest kiddo! nothing more", but, it's the pain in your face that makes him act so soft, it's not the agony brought by your wounds, this goes deeper, it's different and he knows it very well.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken you to Moreau, but he knows the loud mouth will give you to that bitch Miranda and that will be it for you. Dimitrescu is OUT of the equation, so does Beneviento, hell knows what her psychotic ass would do to you. So he brings you back to his home and takes time to clean your wounds, true, his stitching abilities are amazing...on corpses, and a lack of anesthesia and your occasional movements makes it hard for him to stitch you properly, but by the end of everything, you are bandaged and clean, isn't that the important part?

He’s done his part, the rest is on you. If you had the strength to fight and even kill a lycan, you might live to see another day

How long were you out?

You are warm and so fucking sore, cracking your eyes open is a big task and even harder to sit up in the bed you are laying on. The room is black and smells like tobacco, oil, and something you can’t place but it’s nice.

Barefoot and curious you start to get up, wincing deep and loud when pain floods your body, but you get up non-less, you feel the cold air hit your legs, and immediately pull down the shirt to cover yourself. Then it fully clicks, the jagged memories of what happened slaps you in the face and make you lose your footing, falling back on the bed you pry the shirt off from your body, you see bandages and patches placed on smaller wounds, your head is killing you and your right eye hurts like crazy.

With small breathes you pull the shirt back on and force your body to get up and investigate the room. There are piles of clothes and pieces of paper everywhere, picking one of the pants you sigh, these are yours, but they have been destroyed either by the beasts or by however brought you here. Looking around there’s nothing more, time to go out.

The only door leads you to an open room, the kitchen and living room placed together, in one of the sofas you can see someone laying down, their chest rising and falling softly, their face obscured by an old hat.

You try to be as quiet and sneaky as possible when getting back into the room “Where do you think you are going, kid?” his voice is thick with sleep but the sound is enough to make you yelp, slamming your shoulder against the door frame, the man jumps up and in a couple of strides he’s beside you “Can you more fucking careful? the stitches gonna get open and if you get an infection I ain’t risking my neck to get you meds”

He’s a bit taller than you with squared and wide shoulders, his face is stern and it seems like he’s annoyed about something, is it you? Did you anger him? You try to remember what could you have done to make him so mad but nothing comes to you, is not like you remember much, and what you do, is better to be left forgotten.

Heisenberg has seen many people look at him with fear, reverence even, but he has never been in the receiving end of a look like yours, he has to close his eyes for a second, carefully grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the kitchen, almost forcing you to take a seat in on of the wobbly chairs he owns.

“Well now that you are back with us, I can finally cook something to eat. You must be starving! I would too after the way you fought back there” he lets out a howl while he busies himself with pulling ingredients for whatever he’s cooking “I saw ya, you know? That was one hell of a show and I know about putting up good entertainment, you gave those lycans a good beating”

Lycans? So those things have names...uuuh, who would have thought.

"What's your name kid?" you get pulled out of your mind by his voice and the smell of cooking eggs, for a moment you wonder and think, that this is the time to be addressed by YOUR name "...I'm Y/N, sir"

"Cut the sir bullshit, you ain't trying to impress nobody here, you can call me Heisenberg, Karl if you wanna get my attention quickly, got it?"

"Yes...Heisenberg?"

He's rather harsh from what little you have seen of him, but he's careful when serving you breakfast, a steady hand serves you tea and makes quick work of a loaf of bread, whit that you two eat in relative silence, he eats like a wolf and that's enough to make you hide a smile.

"Once you are...better..." he's speaking between bites, eew "I'm taking you to get some new clothes, staying here ain't gonna be free, ok?" with his fork pointing at you he waits and continues without you answering "I'll have to teach you...that's gonna take time..."

"I'm a faster learner!"

Heisenberg laughs at the offended tone in your voice, taking a big gulp from his mug once he stops "I like ya kid, there's a fire in you and I respect that, we gonna get along"

It takes you almost 2 weeks to fully recover and be able to move without crying out in pain. On the day he announces that he must take off your stitches, he's kind when pulling on the thread, talking about how that same day he's taking you to the seamstress cuz he's "done" having you wear his stuff.

The seamstress in the Village seems flabbergasted when "Lord Heisenberg" comes into her house, demanding she makes you good sturdy pants and easy to move in shirts. From that sole visit is enough for people to call you "Heisenberg's assistant" whenever you are sent to the village or just went spotted by anyone. The Duke, the merchant that sometimes you have found yourself talking to, does nothing but fuel the rumor, people already fear Heisenberg on a god day, now they fear you might be spying for him.

You would be lying by saying that, Heisenberg is a normal man, he's flamboyant and loud, filled with pride, and what you can describe as...showmanship, he speaks with passion when explaining to you the ins and outs of the factory. He's always close, never breathing down your neck, just close enough to hear if you need help.

The first time you see him use his gift is the most embarrassing and awkward moment of your life.

You are working on some molds for pieces he needs to make from scratch, he taught you where you should work on that, away from whatever lurks in the lower areas of the factory. You were so engrossed in getting the mold out perfectly, tongue sticking out and heavy gloves helping you to pry open the damn thing open, you don't even jump when a hand lands on your shoulder, but you do when the ghoulish face of a corpse appears beside you.

He's running the second he hears you, a high pitched sound tearing through the noise of the machinery, he sees you bolting it towards him and a Zwei Soldat quickly catching up with you, the drill in its arm too close to your back, the moment you are close enough he pulls you towards and behind him, a metal sheet flying to the thing and beheading it in an instant.

"Kid...Kid, look at me, hey, eyes on me" you are not crying, there's no blood anywhere and nothing seems to be missing, you seem more startled than anything else, but you listen to him, concentrated on him and his voice "Y/N, it's ok kid, I'm here"

Then it happens, you let it slip. "Thanks...thanks dad"

You feel him go tense, the hands-on your shoulders shake for a second and embarrassment comes crashing down on you, you are ready for him to yell or push you away and order you to see if the mold is still useful, but he pulls you close, patting your back like you never said anything.

There are days when you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice growing irritated, and his explosive temper getting worst.

You are curled up in the crawlspace that he turned into your room, listening to him talking with someone, he sounds exasperated and nervous. This time he takes longer to come out from his room, a new cigar in his mouth and hammer over his shoulder, usually, he would tell you that he's leaving for a couple of hours, this time he's just there, tapping his foot and sparing quick glances at you.

"Get your coat, we need to leave"

That's new...he never takes you with him to wherever he goes, but you don't feel like arguing and do as he says, slipping your boots on and grabbing your coat.

Heisenberg is unusually quiet this time, only the snow crunching under your feet make enough sound to fill in the void, he takes you farther from the village and into a rundown church, you can hear new voices and the unforgettable sounds of the lycans snarling.

Inside the candlelight is soft and cast strange shadows of the people already waiting inside. There's a woman in a white dress that probably towers over you, another lady dressed in black and her covered, she sits in a corner with a creepy doll on her lap, and finally, a shy man who battles to cover himself with the torn cloth of his jacket.

"Is this why mother Miranda called us? Did you brought a new toy and never informed her? what a bad dog you are Heisenberg"

"Non of your business, Dimitrescu" Karl does everything to keep you behind him, away from the doll or the twisted man, but especially from the woman, Dimitrescu as he called her.

From where you stood, you could see how beautiful and regal she is, sitting with grace and a sarcastic smile plastered on her face. Noticing you, she moved slightly to get a better look, narrowing her eyes, making you feel small and like food. Before she can't even speak the sound of feathers caught your attention, giving Karl enough time to guide you to one of the pews, making you take a seat beside him.

The four adults greeted the new woman, the infamous mother Miranda, you have heard about her in the village and through small stories shared by the Duke, but mostly, you have heard Heisenberg curse the woman and call her every single name under the sun.

"Usually I wouldn't care for what my children do in their dominions, but, Karl, I must say I'm disappointed in you...to hide this child and avoid telling us?"

"I apologize, Miranda, the right opportunity never came" ooooh he's pissed

"I say you take his toy, Mother Miranda, and if possible, give me that lovely lady to me?" at that your gut twist uncomfortably, it's been some time since you were...addressed like that

"Excuse me?" Heisenberg cocks his head to the side, looking at Dimitrescu over his shades "Are you talking about my SON?"

"YOUR SON?! Don't make laugh, child, I can smell the sweet maiden blood running through her veins, that's a lady not one of your dirty lycans"

"And you are bitch no matter how well you dress!"

"ENOUGH!" Miranda's voice breaks them apart, everyone looking at her "Care to elaborate, Heisenberg?"

Karl takes a second to take a drag from his cigar and blow a cloud of some into the air "I found Y/N here, they fought hard to survive and I took them in, just like Alcina, and her lovely daughters...I decided it was my time to have a child of my own"

"That doesn't change the fact that you brought an outsider and didn't inform mother, and now you are trying to do what exactly? have...them...play house with you?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, that's enough" she's looking at you, mother Miranda in staring, and Heisenberg as a hand on your back, suddenly you are hyper-aware of everything, the sounds and smells, the movements each person in the room does, the way the candles flicker "I allow it, may this never happen again, Heisenberg. Next time there will be consequences"

You feel like passing out after that, the screams of Dimitrescu and the doll get drown by the ringing in your ears, everything keeping you together is Heisenberg's hand on yours cursing up a storm as he pulls you along with him.

The cold air feeling nice against your burning skin.

"Kid? I think you are ready" you are halfway through the trek back to the factory when he speaks again

"Ready for what?"

"To be introduced to the Heisenberg family true work, of course! What kind of father I would be if I don't involve you in our family's business"

You trip with your feet hearing him say that, so...he meant it? what he said in the church...that you are his son?

"Come on Y/N, I won't go easy on you because you are my kid now, quick quick"

Catching up to him is easy and you feel at peace when one of his arms wraps around you, he begins to talk about how many things he's gonna teach you and how exciting is to have a young mind to shape.

For the first time, you are eager to get back home.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #x reader #heisendad #resident evil 8 #re8 #answer stuff #request stuff #reader is a teen #trans reader

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

hey😝😝🙇‍♀️ i love ur fics sm ur writing is so good oml🤭🤭🤭🤭 can i request a jean fic where they go out and jean Likes(😏) her outfit and then semi-public sex idkidk do with that what u will😌😌 TY and remember to drink water😌🥰🥰🥰

“get in the fucking back, now”

pairing: jean kirchstein x female reader

cw: modern au, fluff, language, nsfw (female receiving oral, exhibitionism, degradation, praise, nipple play, biting, fucking (obvs), dacryphillia, dumbification and breeding), kissing and jealousy

word count: 2800+

a/n: thank you for this request and i will make sure to drink hella water, @katsuhera for out midnight simping and thinking of these kinks and ideas also i have a platonic aizawa request coming out later on so hopefully you guys enjoy them both

summary: in which you and jean meet up for a date, instead of the coffee and cakes you find yourself in an empty car pack, bound in the back of his car ready to have his way with you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The smell of fresh coffee and cake filled the room, Jean sat on one of the corner tables playing on his phone as he waited for you to come. You had both agreed to meet after your lectures having not seen each other since yesterday.

You both were needy, needing to at least see each other once a day to be content. It was bad enough both your schedules had fucked your time together, but your friends always seemed to drag you both away from each other.

Finally finding time for a proper date and not just going to each other’s apartments to cuddle and watch movies. Which you had to say was an amazing date in itself. But wanting to spend the afternoon together felt just how your relationship had been. I'm the first couple of months together.

He heard the ring of the door to your favourite cafe, as he watched you on the phone with someone. You spotted him giving him a wave, but his eyes had turned to something else. The skirt you wore, the short black skirt that pressed against your ass and thighs, the way that it squeezed your whole body. It made his head go wild and worst of all the long-sleeved shirts you wore in the spring heat had a low cut allowing all eyes to fixate on the curvature of your breasts in your white bra.

You had put the phone down walking up to the bot with a smile, seeing a server ready to come and ask you what you wanted. But Jean had an inkling the male server would be looking at you a lot more than he should be.

“Sorry, I’m late, our professor kept us longer to talk about an assignment.” You leaned over kissing his cheek, his eyes not daring to look down to see your breasts.

He had missed the simple feeling of your lips on his cheek, even if he had felt it yesterday. “That’s fine, I wasn't waiting long, who was on the phone?”

You had perched yourself on the chair skimming through the menu as he looked at you. Almost admiring his girl, the way his head was planted against his hand just watching how perfect you were.

“Oh, my mum wanted to ask if we’re still okay to come round on Saturday.” He nodded already knowing how your mum had been begging to see the boy who she already considered her son in law.

“Eren brought another fuck round last night.” You muttered unamusingly, you both ended up just talking about the events of this morning. You explained how your mutual friend Eren had brought what seemed like the fifth girl this week back to your shared apartment. You and Eren had been friends for a while and becoming roommates seemed like the best bet when you both had first been let free all those years ago. The idea of moving in with Jean had come up and you knew by the end of the year you’d both finally have your own place together.

“Eren doesn’t tell me shit about who he fucks, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable right?” Jean leant backwards on his seat eyeing you up again, you shook your head having gotten used to it and knowing Eren had had to handle you and Jean fucking before. “What made you wear this then?”

He needed to know if you were purposely making him hard or if it was just by sheer chance. “Why? Don't you like it?”

“Quite the opposite, baby, i think we all liked it.” He spoke the last part in a whisper watching as the server had come up to you both.

“What can I get you both?” He questioned eyes fixated on you alone.

Jean rolled his eyes, hating how others were looking at what was his. “We should share the pancakes, I’m not that hungry but I want some.”

“Pick whatever you want baby” He looked coldly to the man; your hand had been resting across the table as he grabbed it softly. You smiled at the action before putting the menu down and looking at the server.

“Can we get some chocolate pancakes and two coffees?” You asked politely, even in the outfit that looked like you’d just come out from a night out you were ever so respectful.

“Anything else…” Jean had interrupted due to having been ignored throughout the whole encounter.

“No.” The server left, and you went back to Jean.

You remembered his question and began explaining the events of this morning. “This dickhead ran into me with coffee so i had to wear whatever i could find in my bag.”

“You just happen to have a tight skirt and low-cut shirt in your bag.” He chuckled watching you gleam out to him.

You pout at his teasing before continuing, “it’s for special occasions.”

“Aww, is this a special occasion.” Jean teased again.

“I hate you.”

Jeans grip around your fingers tightened, “shouldn’t I be the one hating you, coming in here looking like that, how could any man not want you?”

“Jean.” You whispered slowly.

He checked his watch, he wanted something else, something more from you and prayed that you both would eat quickly so he could let himself have you. “What do you want to do afterwards?” You questioned just as the food arrived, the same server lingering trying to hear the conversation.

“I have some ideas in mind.” Jean smirked out as he took a fork and started eating the food.

“Ooo tell me?” You pleaded hating being kept in the dark.

He looks at the server who remained close by, “walking in wearing that, what else could it be?”

Your eyes widened at the thought that your outfit could really have caused him to get this horny. “Where?”

“Don’t worry about that baby, you eat your food like a good girl.” You didn’t speak, taking a bite of the chocolate, Jean watched as you licked your lips from the stray syrup, for a man with a horny girlfriend it seemed like he had finally reached your level of horny.

He understood all those nights he’d come home wearing a shirt and trousers. How in an instant you’d be on him, due to being, in your own words a sex god he hadn’t realised but you riled him up the same way he did too you.

“Jean.” You had been repeating his name to get him out of his trance. You were hiding a lot more than he had realised, at his previous words a slick had formed between your walls and worst of all there was a lot more limited clothes then Jean realised.

He looked up meeting your seductive gaze, “yes baby.”

“Come closer.” You beckoned, he obliged feeling his trousers tighten at how you moved forward. This time his eyes grazed your chest, seeing through your bra at the already hardened nipples. Your breath fanned his neck before you went to his ear, “the coffee went through my jeans, i didn’t have any spare underwear.”

His breath hitched, feeling himself unable to talk at what you had just said. You were bare between the skirt, the thought that you had been walking with your cunt on show. Worst of all he knew that if you were as horny as he would, the slick would be seeping down your thighs. “Get up.”

“But-” You were interrupted by him grabbing your hand.

“We’re going now.” He looked at the server who looked between the two of you. “How much is it?”

Jean was in a hurry; he passed the credit card impatiently tapping at where the register was. He could see eyes fixated on you, he hated how empty the place had been, with mainly uni students coming through. But in this moment the way their eyes seemed to undress you, he hated it and now knowing the extra information all he wanted to do was show you who you belonged to.

The server passed the card back. Jean in an instant pulled you out of the cafe, he walked ahead as you had been pacing yourself quicker to even keep up with the taller boy. “You’re lucky I brought my car.” He muttered as you went to the underground car park.

There were barely any cars, being the afternoon and people still at work, the parking lot seemed more secluded than you had ever realised. Being at the furthest end, Jean looked at you seeing how you pulled your skirt down. ��No point doing that now, baby, everybody already saw that pretty cunt of yours.” He mocked before unlocking his car.

“Get in the fucking back, now.” He had opened the door, waiting for you to get in. With your back across the backseats, you were in perfect view of his own body.

He moved inside the car, locking the door and car behind him. It was in these moments you were glad he had tinted windows. He gave a smirk watching as you sat upright, one leg beside his body and the other dangling to the ground. “Spread those legs.”

You moved your leg to go onto his shoulders, feeling how his hands moved the skirt up to your hips. Your cunt dripping in wetness for his mouth to devour. “Baby.” It was muffled from your end as his hands had gripped your thighs.

His fingers leaving indents, his mouth bite at your inner thigh. The feeling of the speckles of his hair on his face brushing against your thighs before you felt him closer and closer to your clit. “If you touch me, I’m going to stop.” It was a punishment for showing yourself off, it was a punishment, but he knew it masked the reward of being eaten out.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathed out heavily. The feeling of his hairs across your thighs sent a shock wave, his tongue gliding across your clit tasting and feeling the slick in his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of your wet cunt, his tongue doing laps inside of your blushed cunt. His hand had travelled to your shirt having pulled it to reveal your breasts in the bra, his hand went underneath groping your left boob as his mouth was at work.

“Baby…I…” You could barely think with the feeling of him giving you so much pleasure. The way his mouth would leave soft kisses against your cunt before he went back in with his tongue.

He had told you after the first time you both had slept together how much he enjoyed eating you out. How much he loved the feeling of your cunt across his lips. He needed to feel your cum in his mouth and how it had become a mission to always eat you out before fucking you.

“Such a dirty little girl, getting this wet.” His breath was heavy, but he wanted more, pressing further into your cunt, his tongue swirling inside, the saliva mixing with your slick. His chin grazed your inner thighs, you always loved the feeling of the hairs brushing against your body. Often grabbing his chin when you both kissed just to feel the hairs brush against your palm.

“I...I...cum.” You could barely form words through the moans and groans that filled the car.

“Cum in my mouth baby, let me taste you all.” He whispered his hot breath against your cunt as he continued to lap his tongue in your folds. His hand had been moving along with his tongue, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples.

“Jean.” You gave a final moan feeling yourself climax at the sheer power his tongue had inside of you. Cum dripped from his mouth, you saw him lick his lips to get rid of the cum that encased his lips.

“Such a good little cumslut, want me to fuck you now?” He teased already undoing his belt, your legs remained above his shoulders, but in a quick instant he moved them to his side waiting for your answer.

“Please, fuck me sir.” Tears had welled up in your eyes, the feeling of his tongue making your cunt throb for more. How could he resist those tears, the mascara dripping down to leave a black stain down your cheeks.

He gave a cocky grin, letting his belt fall to the ground before taking the hoodie he had worn off. The way his trousers were kicked to the front seat and he was left for you to admire sent a sensation through your body. He removed your skirt entirely, leaving soft kisses up your thighs to your stomach, before taking the shirt and pulling it over your head. “My pretty little thing.” He toyed undoing your bra to let your breasts spill out.

His mouth attached to your right nipple, his left hand still massaging the other. You felt him swirl his tongue against the hardened tit, arching your back to make more of your breast fit inside of his mouth. “Baby, fuck me please.” You were out of breath and could feel his hardened cock brush against your thigh.

“Are you begging, slut?” He moved his mouth to your neck, his hot breath fanning your breath waiting for an answer.

You looked down your hands moving to his hair and back, “please Sir.”

He smirked cockily, pulling his boxers down, letting his cock curve upwards ready to skim it past your folds. His hand lazily pumped back and forth to get him harder before you felt him direct his cock between your clit, sliding up and down your cum filled hole, “Je...Jean.”

“Come on baby, moan my name for me.” Your hands had reached for his hair pulling him towards your face.

“Jean.” You gave a lewd moan into his ear before feeling his cock slam into your velvety walls.

“You’re so tight even after I've gotten you to cum.” He mutters feeling suffocated within your walls. He brought his body down onto your own, your legs by his side as he began to move out of your cunt in a slow pace.

“Faster.” You breathed out.

“Sluts, don’t get an opinion.” He wanted to edge you till you felt dumb, he wanted to see those tears and watch as you begged for more. He may have moved slowly out but the noise of you moaning in his hair and pulling at his hair had made his slam into you quicker. He repeated it a couple times before seeing how your chest heaved under him, his bite marks cascading across your boobs and neck. You looked bruised and broken but the moans and look of your eyes rolling back had made him realise just how much you loved it.

With a quickened pace, he felt himself go deeper and deeper inside of your cunt, the cum that had been left inside of you, helping him slide back and forth. “Doing such a good job, baby.”

The praise was something Jean always came back too, the first time you both fucked you were unable to walk just at the sheer size of his cock. He knew to always praise you for doing so well with him, to make sure you knew that you could use his cock however you wanted too. “I… love you.” It was muffled through how Jean and you had been face to face, his mouth across your jaw, feeling the wetness still around his chin and face.

Looking into your eyes at the comment, he saw how truly in love he was, even with the quickened pace of him fucking you raw, you truly were in love with the man. “I love you too.” He spoke capturing your lips with his own, you had missed his mouth on your own. His tongue sucked on its own, allowing for more of your cum to mix inside of your mouth, you could feel yourself coil up inside, ready to orgasm for a second time.

He could see how your hands had stopped tugging as forcefully on his hair, how your nails had stopped scratching his back and instead skimmed across his skin. “You going to cum for me.”

“Ye…” You could barely speak at his pace increasing, wanting to fuck all the cum out of you in a matter of seconds. His mouth went to your neck, hand moving to take your own, he felt your fingers lace between your own as he sucked on the skin.

“Cum for me.” He ordered feeling you gush on top of his blushed cock, he felt himself cum from the feeling of being able to slide even more into your body, feeling his cum shoot inside of you. A bulge being prominent through your stomach of being filled up, “such a good girl.”

He kissed the top of your head with praise, sweat and cum filling the car, you only nodded unable to speak at the pleasure you had just encountered. He took you in his hands, letting you lean against his body. Moving the strands of hair that stuck to your body, he looked at how pretty you looked, even with the dishevelled hair and cum seeping out from your sore cunt. You looked as pretty as always, his pretty girl.

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