#and sometimes i just want to drink coffee with him
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Five Alien Hosts: Adventures In Italy (Part 3) - Hunks and Lies
Victor and Alexander (Sylo's host) were strolling together, visiting tourist attractions in Italy. They were having a lot of fun together, Italy was a very romantic place and Victor had on his side a hot hunk as his companion and protector, he couldn't ask for anything else. While Victor and Alexander were laughing at one of his jokes. Alexander's phone started ringing.
"Just one sec." Alexander said, picking up his phone. "Hello?... Oh, Ciao Marco, yeah I'm doing good..."
Victor rolled his eyes, he loved Sylo's host, but Alexander was always too busy with work. His phone would never stop ringing, he would answer calls even while fucking Victor. Victor did enjoy being fucked rough by Alexander while he talked business in a foreign language, but sometimes Victor just wanted Alexander to himself.
As Alexander talked to this man named 'Marco', he looked at his watch.
"Right now?... Ok, I will be there... Sure, We can discuss that when we meet." Alexander turned off the call.
"Who is Marco?" Victor asked.
"Marco is Alexander's business partner. Alexander has a car export company here in Italy and Marco helps run the company while he's away. He wants to meet me at a nearby bar for a quick meeting."
"C'mon Sylo, I told you already, no work during vacation. This day should be about us having fun together," Victor said, hugging Alexander's huge arm.
"Don't worry, Master. It will be a quick meeting. He just wants to discuss some business deals. That's the sole reason why Alexander was on that plane to begin with; he was going to meet with Marco. It would be very suspicious for Alexander not to go."
Victor sighed, Sylo was right. "Fiiiiine."
"Don't be like that," Alexander said, gently holding Victor's chin and kissing him softly. "I will make it up to you later, I promise."
They both walked to the bar where Marco had said they would meet. Once there, Victor was amazed by how handsome Marco was. Marco was the epitome of an Italian hunk. He was wearing a white dress shirt that showed some of his chest. When he saw Alexander, he had the most perfect smile on his face.
"Ciao Alex! Quanto Tempo!" Marco said.
"Ciao Marco!"
They both hugged each other and started talking in Italian, while Victor was left awkwardly staring. Marco looked at Victor, a little confused as to who he was. Sylo noticed it.
"This is my nephew, Victor." Alexander said, placing a hand on Victor's shoulder.
"Nice to meet you, Victor," Marco said, extending his hand. Victor blushed and shook it, while shaking, he couldn't help but glance at Marco's open chest.
Marco then turned to Alexander "So, let's have a drink. We have so much to discuss." They took a seat at a table in the outdoor seating area. A waiter soon walked to their table.
"I will have a coffee," Marco said to the waiter.
"A martini for me and a hot chocolate for my friend over here," Alexander said. When the waiter walked away, Alexander teased Marco. "A coffee, serious? What happened to the old Marco I knew?"
"I don't drink anymore, man. I'm a dad now, did you forget my wife just had a baby?"
Alexander laughed. "And how's everything at the company?"
"Well, you know how it is in this industry, always something new popping up. But I have to say, I'm pretty excited about our latest partnership with that luxury car manufacturer from Germany."
"Ah, yes, I heard about that! That's a big move. How did you manage to pull that off?"
"It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. Lots of negotiations, late-night calls, and convincing. But in the end, it all came down to our reputation and track record."
"Impressive, Marco. I gotta hand it to you; you've always had a knack for sealing those big deals."
As they continued talking about their business. Victor couldn't help but give Marco some glances. But it looks like Marco noticed it because he immediately started to button up his shirt in the middle of the conversation and gave Victor a stern look that made him want to crawl under the table.
Victor had spent so much time with only his alien friends and their brainless hosts that he didn't know how to behave around a non-host person. He was accustomed to staring at his friends' hosts whenever he wanted, so now it was difficult for Victor to control his urges.
"So, where are you two staying at?" Marco asked, breaking the ice.
"At the La Dolce Vita Resort." Victor responded.
"Wow, expensive place. But It's not like money is a problem for your uncle, right?" Marco joked.
Victor was confused for a few seconds, his uncle? But then he remembered he was talking about Alexander. Victor grinned, if Marco only knew he and Alexander weren't related at all, and that his business partner was now just a muscle husk being controlled by an alien bug. One hour later, Marco had to go, he said he had another important meeting to attend.
On the way back to the resort, Victor looked at Alexander, who was driving.
"Why didn't you tell me Marco was this hot?"
"You like him, huh? Do you want me to take him over, Master? I would gladly turn him into a host. The guy's an asshole and the old Alexander also hated the guy. They always had this dispute between them, about who slept with the hottest woman, who had the best car, who closed more deals..."
"It would be very hot... but no, that won't be necessary. Remember, we are on vacation. That means you are free from having to turn into a host every hot man I fancy over."
Later that day, Victor and Alexander returned to their room, and to Victor's surprise, Marco was lying on the bed, reading a newspaper, as if waiting for them. He smirked at Victor and started to slowly unbutton his shirt.
"Ciao Victor," Marco said, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor, Victor was momentarily lost in Marco's abs and pecs.
"M-Marco? What are you doing here?" Victor finally asked surprised. Marco then winked at him. Victor knew that wink well; it was Sylo's way of assuring his control over a host.
"I'm so confused right now." Victor looked at Alexander, who was standing on his side, then back at Marco. "Who are you inside of right now?"
"Alexander is on autopilot. Marco has been my host since this morning. After I fucked you this morning and you got busy with Andrei and Ahmed, I called Marco to meet Alexander at a private place to discuss some business, and when he showed up, I turned him into my host." Marco explained.
"Are you saying that Alexander has been on autopilot all this afternoon?" Victor looked at Alexander on his side, who was grinning at him.
"You got me, Master." Alexander said.
"Exactly, I set his brain so he would act as if he was being controlled by me. Did he make a good impersonation of me?" Marco chuckled.
Victor was shocked, he spent the day with Alexander on autopilot and he had no clue. It wasn't the first time Sylo had pulled a prank like this. He enjoyed tricking Victor into thinking he was inside one host when he was actually in another.
"This will never get old." Marco laughed, putting his hands behind his head and showing Victor his hairy armpits. Victor couldn't deny how hot it was to see Marco shirtless in front of him, Victor now had a visible hard-on.
"He's a nice host, that's for sure. We will have a lot of fun with him." Victor sat on the bed and started to sniff Marco's hairy armpits, he smelled nice, like some fancy cologne.
"I thought you would appreciate some real Italian meat. I know how much you wanted an Italian host, and we kinda spoiled your plans by taking over those non-Italian men on the plane. Marco was born and raised in Italy, he should fulfill your fantasies."
"That's very sweet, thank you Sylo." He took his face from Marco's armpits and smirked at him. "Can you like... pretend to be the real Marco?"
"The real Marco would never be shirtless in front of you, the real Marco would have beaten you to a pulp for having your slutty mouth latching on his armpits."
Victor rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, a gay version of Marco. Remember when you took over that hot cop and we roleplayed that he would only let me go if he fucked and came inside me?"
Suddenly, Marco's eyes rolled back for a moment, and then he gave Victor a seductive glance. "You think I didn't see the way you looked at me? You were stripping me with your eyes. You're such a dirty pervert, Victor." Marco pulled his pants down and lay down fully naked on the bed.
"Fuck me, Victor. I need you inside me, I knew it since the moment I saw you staring at me." Marco begged, shaking his ass to Victor.
Victor's heart raced with anticipation. He surveyed the scene before him: the Italian hunk, Marco, lay naked on the bed, and... oh my! That magnificent Italian ass! Victor couldn't help but lick his lips. He crept closer, his gaze locked on to the tempting target. Finally, he reached out and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled the sheets away. The Italian's big, round ass was revealed in all its glory. Victor took his clothes off and leaned in closer, pressing his body against Marco's back, and began to nibble on his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath against his skin. He continued to nibble and suckle at Marco's neck, feeling the muscles in his ass tighten beneath him.
The Italian hunk let out a groan, Victor smiled wickedly. He knew exactly what he had to do. He positioned himself behind Marco, his hard cock nestled against the entrance of his ass. Slowly, methodically, he began to push forward. The head of his cock pressed against Marco's entrance, and Victor could feel him tense beneath him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. With a sudden surge of power, he thrust forward, feeling the hot, velvety flesh of Marco's ass engulf his cock.
Marco cried out, arching his back further as Victor's cock slid deeper into him. The sensation was exquisite, almost too much to bear. Victor began to fuck him hard, his hips pounding against Marco's ass in a rhythmic cadence.
The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, the wet smack of their flesh as it moved in tandem. Victor reached around, grabbing a handful of Marco's hair, using it to pull his head back and expose his neck.
"That's it, Marco," Victor whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "You're mine now, cum for me you bitch!" And with that, they came together in a passionate, sweaty embrace. As the last tremors of pleasure faded away, Victor collapsed onto the bed next to Marco, their bodies still connected by their entwined limbs. He smiled contentedly, feeling the weight of his release draining away. For a moment, they were both still, catching their breath, before Victor chuckled softly.
"This was your first time bottoming," Victor asked to Sylo, looking over at Marco with a wicked grin. "Do I make a good top?"
"I crawled out of him at the moment you were getting inside him." Alexander said across the room, he was now naked too with his heavy thick shaft swinging.
"Oh for god's sake, can you stop switching bodies for today?"
"You're my Master, but that doesn't mean I will let you top me," Alexander said, roping on the bed, he then grabbed Marco by his waist and shoved his entire shaft in one single thrust. Marco screamed, but Alexander gave his ass a hard slap and Marco went quiet.
Marco's phone started ringing, it was his wife. Alexander grabbed the phone and pulled Marco's hair. "Answer it!" Alexander growled in his ear while still fucking him.
"O-oh hey babe, uurrgghh... I'm in the middle of a meeting right now.... how is my baby angel?"
They changed positions, Alexander now had Marco on top of him, riding him while he still was talking on the phone. "I will stay at Alex's place for a few days... I know, babe, I'm sorry... I love you too." When the call ended, Marco finally let out all the moans he was holding during the call.
Victor was tired so he just watched Alexander fuck Marco non-stop for almost an hour. Finally, when Marco was about to cum, Alexander held Marco with his strong arms, so that Marco's cock was at his face level, and wrapped his mouth around Marco's shaft, just in time for Marco to start shooting.
After feeding, Alexander commanded Marco to freeze. He then lay down beside Victor, who was staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.
"Is there something wrong, Master?" He asked, gently caressing Victor's hair. "I thought you would enjoy watching Alexander destroying Marco's ass."
"It's not it... tell me Sylo, do you think the five of you are the only ones? Don't you think maybe there could be more?"
"I can't say for sure because I couldn't know. But theoretically, it could have been more eggs in that Comet... why the random question?"
"I think we are not alone. I believe there could be others here at the resort."
"But that would be a huge coincidence for us to meet others while on vacation, Earth is a very big planet... unless" He gave Victor a stern look. "Are you hiding something from us, Master?"
"I haven't been completely honest with you all." Victor sat on the bed and sighed. "The real reason of this vacation is that I think more bugs could be here."
"What are you talking about? How would you know?"
"Remember the first man you took over? The Captain of that military operation?"
______________________________________
(1 month ago - USA)
"We're here, Master." Trent said. Trent was a popular gym coach who worked at a gym near Victor's house, after the bugs took over the bodies of the five military men, Victor, drunk with power, suggested the bugs to go to the gym next, once there, the five bugs converted all the hot muscular men working out that day into hosts, and Trent was one of Victor's favorites.
"Thank you for driving me here, Trent," Victor said, burying his face between Trent's big muscular pecs as he flexed them for Victor's amusement.
"Anything for you, Master," Trent said, gently burying Victor's face even more between his meaty pecs.
Without a bug inside his brain, Trent was put into autopilot mode, he was now just a mindless shell programmed to act like the old Trent, and of course, with Victor's suggestion, the bugs also programmed him and every other man on autopilot, to be Victor's slave.
As Victor was about to step out of the car, he had an Idea, he turned to Trent and smirked "While you wait for me, I want you to jerk off non-stop, I want you all sweaty when I'm back."
"Yes, Master," Trent responded, immediately pulling down his shorts, grabbing his 8 Inches cock and jerking off. Victor walked out of the car and went towards the military base.
After the gym takeover, the bugs explained to Victor that they could put the hosts on autopilot, Victor then went on a horny spree, helping turning every hot man he knew into a host and eventually into his slave. His hot neighbors, the construction crew that was working on a building near his house, random men he would see at the park — All fucked Victor at some point.
The military base in his city soon became Victor's next target in his quest for control. Accompanied by his five alien-controlled soldiers, Victor entered the base as if he already owned the place. The bugs crawled out from their hosts and began the takeover, turning one soldier after another into a slave for Victor. Now, these soldiers were no longer serving their country, but rather Victor himself.
Victor spotted the Captain waiting for him at the back doors of the base, Victor had learned that his name was Captain Torres.
"Hello Captain," Victor said, admiring the tall muscular man.
"Hi Master, where is your alien friends that turned me into a mindless shell?"
"I came alone this time," Victor walked closer to the Captain and felt his huge muscular arms.
"That's why you called me to meet you here? You missed these muscles, didn't you?" Captain Torres flexed his huge biceps in a cocky manner.
"Yes, I did miss these muscles," Victor smiled and pulled the Captain's head for a rough kiss. After a few seconds, Victor broke the kiss, leaving the Captain breathless. "But that's not the real reason I came here. I want you to search for something for me."
"Sure, Master, anything for you."
"I want to know the exact location of the meteorite that fell in Italy."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Master. That is confidential information and you're not an official. If I gave any private information about military business to a civilian, I would be breaking the law."
Victor chuckled. "It's honestly amazing how real you sound, anyone else would think you really mean that, in truth you're just a mindless muscle drone trying to act like the old Captain Torres would."
"But I am the real Captain Torres, Master"
"Put your hands behind your back and stand in attention." Victor commanded.
"Yes, Master." Captain Torres did what he was told, now standing with his hands behind his back, totally vulnerable to Victor. Victor grabbed the Captain's bulge and squeezed it.
Victor initially felt scared and intimidated by the much taller and more muscular hosts, he was afraid that those men would suddenly come back to themselves and kill Victor for taking advantage of their bodies. However, as he witnessed more and more big guys being converted into hosts, he started to become more confident. Captain Torres no longer intimidated him, now the only thing his presence did for Victor was to make his cock grow hard.
"You're not a real person anymore, 'Captain'. You're a pile of muscles programmed to act like the previous owner of these muscles. You know who these muscles belong to now?"
"Y-you, Master," The Captain responded, sweat forming on his forehead.
"That's right, I own your entire body. Now lead me to the command room, right now!" Victor then let go of the Captain's crotch.
"I don't know how to search for it, It's not my area. I will need to find Sergeant Jordan, he's an IT technician, he will know how to search for the location."
"Ok, what are you waiting for? Let's find him."
The captain guided Victor into the gymnasium, a cavernous space echoing with the sounds of exertion. Soldiers, engrossed in their workouts, turned to acknowledge Victor's presence. A few nodded, some offered smiles, and others, with a mix of pride and camaraderie, flexed their muscles in silent greeting. Victor savored the attention, reveling in his role as the master of these men. Amidst the rhythmic clanking of weights, Sergeant Jordan's formidable figure stood out. Noticing Victor, he set his weights aside and strode purposefully towards him.
"Hey Master, It's been a while. Are you back to make us fuck each other again? You should make Captain Torres bottom this time."
Victor walked towards Jordan and squeezed his meaty pecs. "As much as I would like to, I don't have time for it, the bugs don't even know I'm here."
"If you're not here to watch us fuck, then why are you here, Master?"
At the command room, the Captain sat on a nearby chair and looked at Sergeant Jordan. "Master wants you to find the location of the meteorite that fell in Italy."
"That is going to be impossible, the meteorite that fell in Italy was never found." Sargeant Jordan explained.
"That's because they searched for it in the wrong way, the meteorites work as a spaceship for the aliens, they pilot that egg by using telekinesis. The military was looking for a meteorite when they actually should be searching for a UFO. You meatheads only found the egg in my house because my noisy neighbor reported it."
"That makes sense, but It's going to take me some time; I will need to request access for the Air Force." Sergeant Jordan sat and started to type.
"Be quick, the bugs can't know that I'm here." Victor kneeled under the table between Jordan's legs and started to open his fly, freeing his thick 9-inch snake and started to suck.
"Yes, Master, I will do my best." Jordan moaned as Victor's tongue started to lap his shaft. Victor had forgotten how big Jordan was. On the day of the military base takeover, Sylo was the one who took over Jordan, that day he fucked Victor rough with this big tool while an orgy happenned in the background.
After sucking Jordan for a while, Victor stood up and kneeled between the Captain's legs and opened his fly, freeing his big thick 11 Inches.
"So you're... uuurrgghhh... hiding from the bugs huh?" The Captain asked. Victor took the shaft from his mouth and slapped it on his own face. "I'm not hiding from them, they just don't have to know everything I do." Victor slightly squeezed the Captain's balls. "You're not gonna tell them, are you?"
"I won't. I only answer to you, Master," the Captain said, grabbing Victor by the neck and pulling him into a long, wet kiss. Victor melted in the Captain's strong muscular arms.
"Wait, that's weird..." Sergeant Jordan muttered as he stared at the screen.
"What's wrong?" The Captain asked.
"On the day of Comet Clyde's passage, an Italian satellite detected an unidentified flying object at a resort called 'La Dolce Vita Resort'."
"Very well done Jordan," Victor said, walking to Jordan and kissing him, Jordan's softening cock now started to grow again.
"Shells can't cum without being authorized, so as a reward, I will let you cum by fucking Captain Torres." Victor glanced at the Captain, who did not look amused. "Captain, take your pants off and get on all fours, Jordan here is going to stuff your ass."
"Thank you, Master!" Sergeant Jordan grinned.
Victor took a photo of the resort address on the computer screen, while Captain Torres was already on all fours with his big muscular ass sticking up. Sergeant Jordan kneeled behind him and started unbuckling his belt. Victor gave them one last look, he wished he could stay and watch them, but he didn't have time. As Victor walked down the corridor, he could still hear the clapping noises and Captain Torre's loud moans.
Back to Trent's car, Trent was a moaning mess, his black tank top was drenched in cum and his muscles were glistening with sweat. He looked at Victor with his tongue out as he continued pumping his big meat for Victor.
Victor paid him no attention, instead reaching for his phone. He scrolled through his extensive list of contacts — he had added so many numbers in the past few months — until he found the name he sought: Mr. Thompson, his hot Daddy neighbor, the man Sylo was currently in. A deep, raspy voice answered on the other end. "Where have you been, Master? We were starting to get worried."
"I'm fine, I was just having a fun time with Trent."
"Come back, we are about to feed, and we know how much you love watching us feed. Bring Trent with you, the more the merrier."
"Oh, I don't know if he will be of much help," Victor said as he looked at Trent shooting another load. "And there it goes his last load."
"Bring him with you anyway, It's been a while since I fucked you in this shell."
"Alright, I will be there soon, Daddy..." Victor chuckled, "You guys have been so good to me. You know, Sylo, I was just thinking... what do you think of a vacation?"
______________________________________
"You did what?" Alexander's voice thundered through the room, anger etched across his face. "I can't believe you went ahead with that without even asking us first!"
"It was just a theory back then. Besides, we don't even know for certain if there are any other bugs here. I could still be wrong."
"I don't care, you put us all into danger! You should have told us!"
"Should I? I'm your Master, and you should obey me! That was the deal, remember?" Victor shouted. But as soon as the words left his mouth, regret followed. He didn't want to be an authoritarian Master; that wasn't the kind of leader he aspired to be. He wanted the bugs to be more than obedient pets; he wanted them to be his friends. Victor sighed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."
Alexander gazed at Victor with a disappointed expression. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and Sylo swiftly crawled out of his mouth, disappearing under the door gap.
"No please come back, Sylo! I'm so-rry..."
Victor sat on the edge of the bed with his head down. Marco and Alexander — Now both empty shells, sat on his side and comforted their Master.
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The Little Things (Seungmin Ver.)
The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.
Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin
Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
| Gets You Coffee |
I feel like this is kind of a given, considering the fact that Seungmin is a fanatic of coffee. Every single morning before he leaves for work, he will always stop by a cafe that he knows serves quality coffee and will get you your absolute favorite coffee before bringing it back to you. Seungmin would 100% play it off, saying some bullshit like, "Well, you're cranky without coffee" or some shit like that. But we all know he did it because he loves you.
If you're not a coffee drinker (Seungmin will probably judge you harshly and then just poke fun at you for it), he will still get you something from the cafe. If you like tea, he'll bring you tea while calling it "leaf juice", and if you want a smoothie, he'll bring you a smoothie with the fruits he knows you'll like.
Now, let's say Seungmin is gone on tour with the guys, or is on a business trip. That's not gonna stop this mofo. He's absolutely devoted to getting you your drink, and so while he's away, he will order your drink through a delivery service, and will always attach a sweet note to your drink in his own...Seungmin-like way.
| Playful Fights/Threats |
Alright, alright, alright. We're all probably extremely aware that Seungmin is always kind of playfully roasting and being sarcastic with his members. It's his way of showing love. And that's exactly why he does this with you, too. Y'know, like how some people do with friends when they're being stupid.
Usually, you both do it to each other when either of you are being stupid. Name calling definitely happens, as well as goofy little insults that make both of you laugh. Neither of you ever take it to heart, ever. And if Seungmin thinks he did take it too far, he'll always make sure to double check and make sure that you didn't take anything he said to the heart. Which you never do.
I also think that if you both say something that is more on the embarrassing side, or makes you flustered, the playful threats come into play. Things like "I'll slap you SO hard!", or, "I will actually beat you so badly if you don't stop right now." But both of you know that neither of you would hurt each other. You love each other too much.
| Sings to You |
We all know that Seungmin has the voice of an angel. And I seriously think that there would be times where he'd just randomly start singing to you. Sometimes it's just to annoy you. But other times, he'll ask you if you've ever heard a song, and you'll say no on purpose just so you can hear him sing it for you.
I also firmly believe that if you were panicking or were just crying because something bad happened, Seungmin would sing to you in order to calm you down. His voice wouldn't be loud, he would quietly hum or sing a song that he knows you love. And while he sang, he'd run his hands through your hair, just giving you gentle touches to give you comfort.
Other times, you ask for him to sing to you. And who is he to deny you something when he can so easily provide it? I feel like he'd call you a big baby for wanting him to sing to you, but then sing and sing until you're satisfied or until you're fast asleep in his arms.
| Asks You About Your Day |
Alright, I know what you're thinking. "Alex, sweetie, you seem like you're running out of ideas because all of the guys would do this for you." Yeah, you'd be right. However, I feel like Seungmin is a bit different in his methods besides his other members.
I think Seungmin wouldn't let you off the hook when you just say that your day was "good" or "okay". He would push and push and push, trying to get you to fill him in on every detail. Why? Because he loves hearing about how your day went, and wants to hear what he missed out on in your life.
Will he ever admit it? Ha! No. But we all know that in his heart, he loves hearing about your day. And while you might get seriously annoyed with him for it, its a great way to get a conversation happening. And if you had a bad day and need to go on a rant? Go for it, Seungmin's here for all the gossip and tea from your job or day.
| Lays on You |
No, I don't mean that he'll lay his head on your chest and cuddle up close. Well, he does that, don't get me wrong. Especially when he's had a rough day. But what I mean by this is that Mr. Kim Seungmin will find you laying down on the bed, or the floor (because to me floors can lowkey be really comfortable), or even the couch, and will just lay on top of you, making sure you're squished under his weight while laughing.
This man will do this whenever he feels like annoying you, because why not? Annoying you is fun, and he finds joy in your complaints and whines for him to get off before you suffocate. Will he find any offense in your words? Of course not.
I also think that he'd do this if he wants you to get up and do something with him. Like, if you're being lazy and Seungmin wants to go out for lunch or go on a date or something and you're refusing him? Boom. He's laying right on top of you, and the only way this man is getting up is if you get up with him. It's just the way it's gonna be.
Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️
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A First Time For Everything
choso x fem!reader
length: 10.7K
tw: religious guilt, drug use, nsfw, loss of virginity
You left your small hometown to pursue your dreams. Along the way, you've encountered new experiences and challenges that shake your beliefs to your core. In your new city, you meet Choso, who challenges your beliefs and introduces you to a different way of thinking.
As you navigate this evolving new life, you find yourself drawn to him, leading to an exciting journey and a whole lot of firsts.
All you could think about was how disappointed your mother would be. You could see her there, in your tiny hometown, crying into a cup of coffee at the local diner, her friend rubbing her back affectionately. She'd tell her friend that she didn't know where she'd gone wrong, and her friend would sigh and quote scripture and tell her some old saying about how no lamb can stray too far from the herd for the shepherd to find again.
Would the preacher give a sermon on Sunday morning? About the devil and how he presents not as himself, but as pleasure? As sex and drugs and money? As freedom?
Six months ago, when you’d graduated college and took a job in a big city a thousand miles away, you'd never have pictured yourself in the predicament you found yourself in now. You wanted to experience, to learn, to breathe in the world around you and expand your mind. To you, that meant working, and trying new foods, maybe taking an art class.
It definitely never occurred to you that it might mean sitting on the cement of a skate park with three alternative men, watching the youngest of the three pack a - what did they call it again? - right, a ‘bowl’ full of weed to pass around the circle.
It makes you nervous, watching the setting sun dance off the pink top of his hair, handling an illegal substance so brazenly, out in the open like the cops couldn't roll up at any minute, like god wasn't watching-
A hand on your back between your shoulder blades, rubbing affectionately, reassuringly.
You look up to meet his eyes, flashing a small forced smile.
“I’m okay, Choso. I promise.”
Ah, if the devil presented as everything you wanted, then Choso Kamo may be Satan himself.
He’d frightened you the first time you'd met him. It was at a bar, sometime early in the night. You’d never drank before and wanted the experience of sipping a cocktail at the high tops, maybe shooting pool with a handsome stranger. You'd quickly learned that cocktails were vast and varied, and strangers came in so many different shapes and sizes out here. Unfamiliar ones, scary ones.
You’d simply asked the bartender for the special, and had been met with something that tasted like drinking straight cough syrup. It made you gag. Too heavy, too sweet, and to top it all off it burned.
He’d slid up to the bar a few seats away and you'd almost pissed yourself. He was huge, muscular, with a thick solid line tattooed across the bridge of his pierced nose. Tattoos decorated his arms, plastered the muscle that threatened to tear the fabric of his intentionally tattered t-shirt from the inside out. It was a deep maroon color, and it made the pale of his skin almost glow in the dark bar lighting. He was distressed jeans and combat boots and danger and fire. Alternatively styled hair, pigtails that somehow looked masculine on him. Tattoos and piercings and just the faintest hint of eyeliner. He was everything you had been taught to avoid. Everything that had ever been off limits.
And the way a match ignited in your stomach as you watched him order? That was definitely the cocktail.
And the way saliva started to pool in your throat when you watched him reach into his pocket to produce his wallet with special attention to the way his eyelashes fluttered? That was definitely the cocktail.
And the way you felt like vomiting when he'd caught you staring? Stupid fucking cocktail.
Or that's what you had told yourself.
When he’d approached, it wasn't what you expected, not at all what the movies taught you. He’d introduced himself, shook your hand, asked what you were sipping on.
“I actually-” you’d looked at your glass in disapproval “I don't know. I don't really drink but it's kind of gross.”
He’d giggled, boyish and in direct opposition to his appearance and you'd had to grip the bar for support despite already sitting.
“Yeah, I bet! Looks like it's 98 percent juice.” His brows had raised, a genuine smile plastered across his face. The whites of his canines made you feel like you were dying in the best way possible. It was overwhelming. You couldn't breathe.
“You can try mine, I haven't touched it yet. So, you know, no cooties or whatever-”
He slid his glass over to you. It was clear and bubbly, a lemon wedge floating in the top. Unable to even speak real human words back to him when he looked so good, you'd hesitantly pulled his straw between your lips, eyes gazing up at him as his gaze locked directly onto the way your mouth moved, unsure of why his expression faltered momentarily.
You took a sip and your face lit up. It was refreshing, almost like sparkling water. The liquor was there, but it didn't burn like yours. It was smooth and cooling.
“This is so good!”
He seems to be pleased by your excitement, his smile going soft “Yeah? It's a gin and tonic, I can buy you one, if you'd like.”.
Your expression must've told him you weren't sure. Isn't that what men did when they wanted to have sex with you?
“No expectations, I promise.”
He seemed so genuine that you'd gladly agreed.
And when he'd asked for your number, or if you wanted to hangout at his house with him and his younger brother, or if you would like to learn to skateboard- it was much the same.
Since that night, the two of you had melded into each other's lives effortlessly. Choso was sweet and kind, always respectful. His younger brother Yuji lived with him after the untimely passing of their mother. Yugi’s boyfriend, Megumi, was always around as well. Being around the three of them made you nostalgic for something you never had. Sometimes, the feeling you would get when watching the siblings fight over a game of Monopoly called back to the tightness of your chest during worship on Sundays. You used to think it was God speaking to you, but now you weren't so sure.
You weren't sure what the nature of your relationship was with Choso, either. Sometimes, he felt like a friend and nothing more. When he’d send you random goofy memes, or pretend to be upset when you couldn't come over. Other times, you thought that maybe he liked you. When you'd sit a little too close while watching a movie and catch him more concerned with watching you than the film. Or when he'd walk you to your car at night and linger just a bit too long at your window. Or when he’d insist upon you staying the night. But when you did agree to stay, he’d always tuck you into his bed and then head downstairs to sleep on the couch, often complaining the next morning about how Megumi and Yuji kept him up all night.
You didn't know the first thing about men, but surely if he liked you, he’d make the first move, right?
On the other hand, you'd come to learn just how shy Choso actually was. He preferred ordering delivery to avoid talking to strangers, wrote down scripts for himself before making phone calls, and tried his best to keep interactions with cashiers and bank tellers to a minimum. You’d wondered before what made him talk to you in the bar that night all those weeks ago.
“You sure? You look like your eyes are about to pop out of your head- ow!” Yuji’s voice brings you back to the present, giggling as he fails to dodge a playful blow to the back of his scalp from Megumi.
“I’m fine , you guys! I promise!” you insist as Yuji finishes packing the bowl with the corner of his lighter.
A few short minutes later and Choso’s on his knees in front of you, holding the bowl for you with a steady hand as you take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally for your first time ever smoking. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, your father yells and throws a glass plate at the dining room wall, but even the glass shattering is hard to hear when Megumi and Yuji are peering around Choso on either side, their faces akin to children on Christmas. Like getting you high for the first time was the greatest thing they'd ever do.
“Ready? Last chance to chicken out.” Choso’s words are teasing but his tone is gentle, kind. He's offering you a lifeline in a way that will still make him seem cool in front of his brother, and you know it.
“I was born ready.” you bold-face lie.
With that, you attach your lips to the mouthpiece, your eyes following Choso’s hand as he brings the flame of the lighter to the bud, giving you a gentle command:
“Inhale. Slowly.”
And so you do. He’d warned you that you wouldn't get anything until he moved his thumb from the air hole on the side, but somehow you’re still shocked when the flavor hits you. It's foreign, earthy, a little sour but not entirely unpleasant. It tickles as it slides down your throat and Choso pulls the glass piece away from you, passing it to Yuji.
Coming up isn't half as pleasant. The ticklish feeling now burns, and your lungs feel tingly and odd. You cough, once lightly and then violently. By the fifth one you think you may throw up. Your mouth feels dry and you can't comprehend why the boy’s would willingly do this to themselves.
It doesn't take long to understand, though.
Within a few minutes and another turn in the rotation, the world is softer, your thoughts not so organized and pointed. Everything is pretty, and silly, and any sensory input feels like you're experiencing it for the first time.
Yuji asks you stupid questions, has you rattling off haphazardly strung together and entirely too far thought-out opinions. Megumi seems to find this greatly amusing. It’s the first time you’ve seen him laugh, you think.
And Choso?
He keeps inching closer. You're not sure if he even intends for it to be that way, but eventually you end up sitting between his splayed open legs, your back against his chest and your fingers absentmindedly toying with the frayed holes in the thighs of his jeans. If the weight of the two of your bodies is too much he doesn't say so, his palms splayed out on the concrete behind him.
The two of you watch the younger couple skate from above, your eyes carefully trailing back and forth between them. You weren't sure how they ended up together. Megumi was a bit of a hard ass, he almost came off as pretentious if you didn't know him well enough. And then there was Yugi, who was loud and rambunctious and overly extroverted. You wondered who had bullied who into falling in love, and you giggle at the thought.
“What is it, pot head?” Choso asks from above you.
The boys had been teasing you about your “weed problem” all evening.
“Do you think Megumi bullied Yuji into dating him or was it the other way around?” You ask candidly, and this time Choso chuckles, vibrating your spine.
“I’d put money on it being the other way around. Yuji’s tougher than people give him credit for.”
A few silent, thoughtful moments pass and then he adds:
“Plus, Megumi’s super introverted. He's kind of like me in that way. I can't imagine he'd make the first move.”
For a moment, it's lost on you, but after it rolls around in the fuzziness of your brain for a while it dawns upon you that his words might've been a hint of sorts. You shift so that you can see his face, your legs swinging over his thigh and your elbows resting on the other for support, half laying on his lap.
“Yeah?” You prod, trying your best not to get lost in the deep chocolate of his eyes or the curve of his jaw.
He really was beautiful. Today, his hair is down, surrounding his face in a shaggy frame that makes him look a little softer. There's a red twinge coating the skin of his cheeks under his tattoo, but you couldn't decide if it was from the heat or not.
“Yeah” he breathes as his eyes scan your face, almost like he's in awe of you.
His eyes settle on your lips and you watch him swallow harshly.
It reminds you that your own mouth exists, and its dry as hell.
“Choso?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm thirsty.”
Your admission seems to jar him out of the haze as he cracks into a giggle, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners. You're pretty sure he's never looked better.
“We have some water bottles in the car, you wanna walk with me?”
Of course you do, you think you’d go everywhere with him if you had the time and money to do so.
A few minutes later the two of you are sitting in his car with the AC on full blast and the radio on low. Of course what was supposed to be a two minute venture out to the parking lot had lengthened when Choso had offered to show you a new band he had discovered.
Usually, his music was too heavy for you, but you actually didn't mind this one all that much. It had it's moments, but the incomprehensible screaming was spaced out, intermingled with melodic guitar and an only-slightly intolerably whiny vocalist.
“So, does this one get the y/n stamp of approval?” He asks.
You faux-ponder for a moment, tapping your finger against your chin thoughtfully before you give him the expected answer:
“No, but it's better than the last one.”
“Oh, come on! I thought for sure I’d have you this time!” He groans, jutting his bottom lip out like you’d really hurt his feelings.
“Sorry, big guy. The only whiney little man I like is you-”
It slipped out before you could even stop yourself, your face immediately flushing at the admission, horrified that you just said that. You were never smoking weed again.
What if he didn't feel that way? What if he was disgusted by the thought of you having feelings for him? What if he didn't want to be friends anymore? What if-
“I mean, I-”
“Do you mean it?” His tone is flat but his eyes are wide, observant, drinking in every minute detail of your expression. You're mortified.
“No!”
“Oh.” His face falls and his shoulders droop, and your heart cracks a little at the sight.
“I mean, not like that! I just-”
He chuckles a little, but it sounds strained. Slumping into his seat and tapping his hands on the bottom of the steering wheel awkwardly, he doesn't pull his eyes from his own fingers as he speaks “Y/n, it's fine. Really. You're not obligated to like me just because you're a woman and my friend. I'll live.”.
Fuck.
How were you supposed to fix this? How could you get out of this situation without admitting to your little crush? Either way, the dynamic of your relationship would change from here on out.
You tried to summon your bravery, but in the end it was futile.
You didn't like the way the change was playing out.
Choso’s texts to you slowed over the next few weeks, and then eventually stopped altogether. You had yet to be invited back over to his place or out to the skate park by him personally, instead getting invites from Yuji, all ending with the speculation that you could come “if you want”. Not a direct invitation, not a enthusiastic expression of a desire for your presence, and definitely not from the person you wanted it from.
You wondered if you had told him the truth, would it be like this?
You missed him. The smell of his cologne, dark and earthy and smokey. The way it felt to fall asleep on his shoulder watching TV. His penchant for take out, his awkward demeanor. You’d even forced yourself to listen to his playlists. It felt like a piece of you had died.
Out here in the big city, surrounded by a million strangers, yet feeling alone because the ones you chose had been taken from you as punishment for your lack of nuts.
You check your phone after work before heading home, unsurprised to find no new notifications, but disappointed nonetheless. You almost text him, tell him you miss him, but it felt wrong. So instead, you put his playlist on and start your drive.
Fittingly, it was pouring rain, effectively turning the concrete of the city into a pond. Traffic creeps forward, inch by miserable fucking inch, and you think how much better this would be if he was in your passenger seat. Shit, it would even be better if you could just call him. Your emotions swell and blur together. You're mournful over the loss, regretful over your choice of words, angry at him for not just telling you what he was thinking. Angry at your hometown for driving you out, angry at your mother for never calling, angry at god for keeping the rest of the big wide world from you for so long. Angry at god for keeping Choso from you for so long.
Someone blares on their horn a couple lanes away and you sober, come to a revelation of sorts. You’d thrown god the middle finger a long time ago. He couldn't stop you from living, from experiencing. And by that logic, he couldn't keep Choso from you either. Not if you had any say in the matter.
You don't drive home, taking a turn instead two exits early. You’d memorized the route to their house, didn't need a GPS to lead you into their suburb.
When you pull into the drive Choso’s car is the only one parked outside, but quite frankly you didn't care who was there. You march out of your car with the determination of a soldier, not bothering to worry about how the rain was absolutely pouring down. By the time you reach the door you’re absolutely soaked, with your hair plastered to your face and your business casual button up transparent, clinging to your frame.
You pound on the door with force and wait for a few moments, and then pound again. You know he doesn't like to answer the door to strangers. He's not impolite enough to tell religious canvassers to piss off, and everytime it's a salesman he buys whatever product they're pushing just to get them to leave.
Third time's the charm.
He opens the door in nothing but a charcoal pair of sweatpants, his hair messy and disheveled like he’d just woken up at 6pm. His tattoos are on full display, but his torso remains untouched by ink, giving you a full view of his pecs, his abs, and that v shape above his hips that has you breathing funny. You shamelessly trail your eyes down his body.
“You're soaked.” He meekly points out, and you realize he must've been sizing you up as well, because his lips are parted and his face is flushed when you jerk your eyes back up to meet his gaze.
Fuck it.
You take two steps forward and jerk him down to you by the nape of his neck, crashing your lips into his with a fervent heat. You would explain later. Right now all that mattered was the way he grunted against your lips, the way his tongue felt pushing past the plush barrier to swirl against yours, the way his hands gripped your sides like they were sculpted to do just that. He tastes like weed and mint and something sweet, and you think you maybe could get addicted to something like that.
He pulls back but you’re not finished yet, lapping hungrily at the sensitive skin of his neck. It was the best you could do with the height difference.
“Y/n. Inside, please.” He slurs, groaning and gripping you tighter as you transition from licking to sucking, ignoring his request entirely.
You hit a spot he must like, because he gasps and then his hands are scrambling to the wet backs of your thighs, hoisting you up to his waist and retreating into the familiar space.
Once the two of you are inside he sits you down, his hands scrambling to put some space between the two of you, grasping at your wrists and pushing on your chest just slightly. You both know he could easily shove you off if he wanted, but as always his manners are entirely too poised for that type of behavior.
But you’re hooked on the flavor of his skin, lapping at any place you can reach with desperation. You missed him so much, you needed him. Closer and harder and more-
He barks your name, unusually harsh, and it snaps you out of your lusty haze a little.
“Sorry,” He apologizes when he catches your disappointment, his hands reaching up to cup your face, lips pressing to the damp skin of your forehead gently to remedy his harshness “You're absolutely drenched, love. And it seems like we need to talk.”.
It's almost impossible to tuck away your need, but you manage, somehow.
Thirty minutes later and you're wrapped in one of his hoodies, the sheer size of it large enough to fall at mid-thigh.
With the daylight streaming through the window, Choso’s bedroom looks different. You’d never noticed before just how much of a collector he was. You knew he had shelves full of nick-nacks and oddities, but in the light they seemed far larger in number than you’d ever noticed before. He had an interest in the occult, a fact that had once scared you, but now you knew it to be harmless.
Every crystal, jar of herbs, and statuette had a meaning. You’d ask him about it sometimes, which rock was supposed to represent good fortune, or which little wax sealed spell jar was for protection.
Choso viewed spirituality not as a guide book for how to enter heaven, but an encyclopedia for exploring the unknown. You loved that about him. He didn't need one divine being to judge whether or not he was a good person, he just was .
The two of you sit at the top of his bed, your backs pressed against the headboard, your legs against the top of his plush comforter. It's such a deep shade of purple it's almost black.
The tension between the two of you is somewhat awkward. You were sitting close enough to feel each other's heat, but neither one dared to touch. You kept yourself busy by twisting your fingers together, trying not to think about how tense he was beside you. His arms were clenched tightly across his chest, as if defending himself from the thick air, and when you stole a glance at him you wondered how he hadn't bitten through his cheek yet with how hard he was chewing on it.
Several times, one of you opens your mouth to speak, but words evade you.
Eventually, you tap your bare toes against Choso's playfully. Once, twice, three times.
“Weirdo,” he teases “You come in my house, you kiss me, you steal my clothes and now you wanna hold toes?”
You gasp, full of faux offense “Excuse me?! I am not trying to hold your toes! If I wanted to hold your toes, I’d do this- ”.
You slide your body down a bit so you can reach and curl your toes over the top of his. Immediately, he recoils, sarcastically gagging, but its interrupted by giggles as he tries to no avail to squirm away from you.
“You freak!” He laughs, desperately shuffling away from you as you latch onto his body, attempting to reach his foot again with your own playfully. He squirms downward to use his height to his advantage, his giggles getting a little higher pitched as he evades your desperate attempt.
“Is this some kind of weird religious trauma? Jesus liked to wash feet, not touch them together-”
He's shit talking between giggles and now you're giggling too, sliding down the bed to try and reach him once again, your lip pulling between your teeth mischievously as you frantically wave your leg, toes pointed like a ballerina. You pay absolutely zero mind to his protests. So close, so close-
He practically shrieks your name when he feels your toes graze against his skin and the sheer girlieness of the noise has you erupting into genuine, chest rattling laughter, and before you can recover, he's reached over you to hook a large and under your knee, flipping you across his waist with ease so you’re straddling him, genuinely beaming as you try to catch your breath, your hands pressed against his bare chest to support yourself.
After a few moments, the realization sinks in that you’re here, in Choso Kamo’s bed, with no pants on. Straddling him with your knees struggling to even touch the bed underneath, the only thing separating your most private area from the skin of his abdomen being the thin cotton of your bikini cut panties.
His expression softens as he stares at you, lost in the way your lips part and your eyelids get heavy as he brings a hand up to fix pieces of your hair that were out of place, the both of you completely lost in the moment.
“I’m so sorry Choso-” you start, finally attempting to address the elephant in the room.
“Don't be, there's no need” he murmurs as his fingers move from your hair to your jawline, his thumb grazing the soft skin of your cheek tantalizingly slow “I told you, you're not obligated to feel-”.
You're glad he's not dodging the issue, but you can't let him continue that line of thinking for another fucking second. It was killing you, so you cut him off.
“But I do, Cho. I do feel…” You sigh, your eyebrows furrowing as a knot rises in your throat. Why the fuck was this so hard?
And he wasn't making it any easier, the way his hand was trailing from your face to your neck, across your shoulder and down your clavicle like it had a mind of its own. You have to fight not to shudder.
You close your eyes, avoiding his gaze and focus hard on spewing what needed to be said, wanting it out and over as quickly as possible.
“I like you. I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. I just didn't know how to say it and when I did I didn't mean to. And you looked so pretty and I didn't want to fuck anything up and so I tried to shove it all back in but it was too late and I-”
Words are tumbling out of your mouth quicker than your brain could proofread them, your hands balling into fists as you metaphorically word vomit into the sticky air in front of you, and it's not until you feel Choso shift underneath you that you stop.
He's pushed himself up on his palm, his free hand moving to tangle in your hair and pull your lips to his, a silent way of telling you he understood. This kiss wasn't like earlier, this one was gentle and poised, every little motion of his mouth overly intentional. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you gladly grant him access, sighing against him as he strokes the inside of your mouth with the grace of a painter intending upon a masterpiece.
Momentarily, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours and panting slightly, his eyes fluttered shut as he basks in your warmth. The air between you is thick and sweet, a mixture of clean oxygen and your breath swirling together.
You know what he's doing, trying to regain some control over himself. The two of you have talked extensively about your background, he knew you were a virgin. He didn't want to do anything you weren't comfortable with-
“You’ve been holding back this whole time” you let the words tumble out in a whisper, and you smile when he nods, the sweetness of the entire misunderstanding exploding through you.
“I never wanted to force you into anything,” He sighs “God knows you’ve had enough of other people guiding your decisions for you.”.
“Was that a play on words?” you try not to giggle, but he snorts and then you’re both laughing, with him shifting your bodies again so you're fully in his lap, his legs curling underneath you and his arms squeezing you in an almost boyish way, his giggles getting lost in your hair where he buries his face.
***
“I want to have sex with you”
You’re firm and unwavering in your disposition, face stern and hands pointed at your sides. You stand in front of the coffee table where Choso currently has one boot clad foot perched, his long fingers working on weaving the laces around the hooks in a far too intricate pattern.
He stills momentarily, staring at you with a slight blush creeping across an almost unreadable expression before he chuckles, returning to the task at hand.
His reaction causes you to cross your arms across your chest and reiterate “I’m serious. I want to have sex with you.”.
Since your initial miscommunication with him, you’d come to the conclusion that you would simply have to be direct with your wants and needs from him.
He doesn't pause this time, but does lift his head to shoot you a glance, flashing a much softer smile this time. It reminds you of when you first met him.
“I know, I’m sorry. You just said it so officially. I half expected you to be wearing a lapel collar blazer and holding a briefcase. It was cute.” He speaks as he finishes up with the first boot, and then quickly moves onto the next.
He was getting ready for work and looked absolutely scrumptious. His hair was pulled back in his signature buns, little pieces falling forward to frame his face, and his uniform clung to him in all the right ways. He swears he doesn't actually do much as a security guard, but everytime you see him in uniform you can't help but melt a little.
‘Remain strong’ you tell yourself.
“Well maybe if you could take a hint I wouldn't have to present myself like a legal case,” your tone was teasing, but it was true.
Earlier this week you'd crawled in his bed with nothing on but a thong and one of his t-shirts, pulling his arm around you and settling the flesh of your ass firmly against his boxers, innocently “adjusting” your position repeatedly. When his cock was hard enough for you to feel it spearing your thighs you thought you had him hooked, but he simply pressed chaste kisses onto your neck a few times and told you goodnight.
The day before that, you’d met him in his bedroom when he got home fresh out of the shower, nothing but a towel clinging to your frame and pulled him in for a steamy makeout session. It had ended with him offering for you to wear an outfit of his.
Just last night, you’d made sure to pick a movie with a raunchy sex scene, and even though you’d watched his face flush and his breathing falter, he didn't so much as attempt to make a move on you.
He says your name gently as he finishes up with his shoes and rises from the couch, making his way over to you and wrapping his fingers around your jaw, manually forcing you to look up at him.
“I can take a hint just fine, baby.” He coos, his voice dark and smokier than you’d ever heard it, seemingly out of nowhere “It's just that I'm a patient man. I was waiting for you to use your words.”.
You're already putty in his hands, beet red and gripping his uniform desperately as he captures your bottom lip between his, rolling his tongue along the tender flesh before sucking harshly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting lightly.
It shouldn't be enough to have you dripping onto the soft cloth of your underwear, pushing muffled whimpers against his lips, but here you are anyway.
All too soon, he pulls away, leaving you breathless as he makes circles beneath your ribs with his thumbs.
“Unfortunately, though, my little legal council, I do have to work-”
“Call out.” It sounds like a plea.
He giggles, allowing his forehead to fall against yours just briefly as his shoulders shake with the sound.
“Cho!” You whine, desperate and slightly embarrassed.
“I can't call out horny, my love.” He’s still giggling as he says it “Plus, if it's what you want, that's fine but I’d like to have time to dedicate myself to making you feel good. It's your first time, you deserve that.”
His words soften as he speaks, and he plants another kiss on your lips, muffling your resigned response.
“You gonna be here tonight? When I get home?” He asks, his voice suggestive.
You hadn't been planning on it. It was usually a dice roll, whether you’d end up at your own apartment or his house by the end of the night, but you needed to go home. Your drawer full of clothes here was dwindling and you desperately missed not having to hear Yuuji and Megumi in the other room.
Plus, you worried sometimes that you needed to relax, to give Choso a chance to breathe. He was an introvert, and even though he never seemed to mind your presence you were always worried that you were overstepping boundaries.
“I was planning on it.” You lie, unsure if you were convincing.
“Shame,” he sighs, pecking your nose before heading towards the door, strong hands reaching for his keys hanging on the rack “The boys are gonna be here. I figure you don't want them hearing-”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean, I-” you scramble for words and he turns to watch you fumble desperately to communicate, giggling through pearly white teeth.
“I can be at home. Tonight.” You take a deep breath, feeling like the air was all of a sudden too hot in the room.
The look on his face is one of pure adoration. His eyes drink you in like fresh water in a desert oasis. You’d been taught that God was the only one who could love you unconditionally, the only one who could marvel at the way your soul had been sewn into your body, but there in that moment, you had the thought that Choso Kamo just might be able to as well.
He crosses the room once more, and when you think he's going to kiss you again, push a little harder against the thin bubble of list pooling inside you, he shocks you by wrapping his arms around you instead, pulling you into him and squeezing you tight, like he didn't want to let go.
The hours pass all too quickly. They also drag on like snails on the sidewalk.
You do everything in your power to prepare yourself. By the time you've driven home and shaved every feasible inch of your body, showered like you could never be clean enough, and applied enough lotions and oils for the next seventeen years, you still have four hours until Choso gets off work. Two and a half of those get filled with cleaning, not that your apartment was dirty in the first place, but you vacuum and dust and wash your bedsheets. You consider scrubbing the grout in the kitchen, but decide against it, not wanting to ruin your immaculately washed form with sweat.
Picking out what to wear is another daunting task. You weren't one for expensive and skimpy lingerie sets. You’d never considered the possibility that anyone would be seeing that secondary layer of clothing. Would Choso be disappointed in your plain black cotton panties and a matching black bra? Realistically, no. You knew he thought you looked amazing in anything. But there's still a small part of you that thinks maybe he will be.
In those last few hours, the nerves really settle in with the reality of the situation. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror in your underwear for what feels like an insane amount of time, scrutinizing your body. Every stretch mark, patch of cellulite, scar and wrinkle screams at you. The way your underwear digs into the soft fat of your body makes you sick. You imagine Choso swallowing his disgust to power through it, and flip off the lights to go pull on some shorts and a t-shirt.
And when he texts you to let you know he's on the way, you feel like you may vomit, a mix of excitement and shame flooding your system.
Beneath his notification is one from your mother. She doesn't reach out much these days, and when she does, it's always an attempt to guilt you into returning home. In her mind, it's not too late.
She doesn't know how far you’ve strayed. You're no longer a girl in the middle rows of pews with your blossoming body swallowed in a light pink dress from your neck to your shins. You don't find excitement at the glances you would steal with the choir boy while he sung the good lord's praises.
These days, you drank and smoked and spent your nights in the bed of an unwed man who thought Jesus was no more than a person who once lived. No more or less than himself, or you, for that matter.
The bible verse she's sent you today seems fitting.
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
She used to tell you, when you were tiny, with dirt stained knees and sunburned cheeks, that when you found your husband, you should replace the word “love” with his name. And if you could not recite it and believe it to be true in it’s new form, he simply was not the boy for you.
Choso Kamo is patient, he is kind. He does not envy, he does not boast, he is not proud.
You see him in flashes. How he patiently waited for you to make a move on him. How he was kind enough to bolster you through every step of your new journey. How he was quiet, gentle, humble in his words and his actions. The blush of his cheeks, the warmth of his embrace-
Choso Kamo is not rude, he is not self seeking, he is not easily angered, he keeps no record of wrongs.
He took your misplaced rejection in stride. Never once did he snap at you. In those weeks you’d been separated, he’d drawn into himself. And when you'd showed up on his doorstep with no justification, he'd welcomed you back with open arms, dressed you in his own clothes, held you like a precious gift-
Choso Kamo always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.
Yuuji had told you one night over a midnight snack about how Choso had immediately cleared out the guest bedroom when their mom had passed. Yuuji, before that point, was old enough and had more than enough money to have lived on his own, but Choso had insisted on him moving in. He’d told you, with a saccharine half smile as he stared into his bowl of cheerios, that he thought that Choso wanted what was left of their family to persevere. It may have been small, torn from years of hardship, but they were gonna make it good. They were gonna be the kind men at the end of the street who neighbors called when they had a flat tire. Their home would be a safe haven, a place to rest when their friends were weary. After that conversation, you’d crawled back into bed with Choso, who was fast asleep, and cried into his shoulder. Your sweet boy, your angel-
Choso Kamo never fails.
That one doesn't count, you decide. It was too unrealistic. But then you rephrase it a little, and it sounds about right:
Choso Kamo’s love never fails.
Yeah, that was more like it.
But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
For we know in part and we prophesy in part
You send your mother back a message, entirely too brief. You are no longer sure if you believe in god, but what you are certain of is that you are going to live each moment of your life like it's your last. You’re helplessly in love with a man who practices witchcraft and smokes weed more than he breathes air. But you followed her rule, and he fits the standard. You don't want to hear her opinion, and your father, god rest his soul, may be rolling in his grave, but he's probably not burning in hell, because it doesn't exist.
but when perfection comes,
A knock on your door, in an all-too-familiar corny little rhythmic jingle that warms your heart.
the imperfect disappears.
You block your mothers number and toss your phone on the plush surface of your sofa and practically run to the door, throwing it open and then leaping into Choso's arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck and drinking in the smell of his cologne.
He's unprepared, stumbling slightly as he catches you, a breathy “Woah, there!” escaping his lips as he steps with you in his arms over the threshold of your apartment.
“What happened to ‘Hello’?” He teases, pressing soft kisses into your hair “-Or ‘Hi, how are you?’.”
All the while he's struggling to kick his shoes off and get the door locked without setting you down, giggling at himself candidly in your ear. Every rattle of his chest only has you pulling him closer, latching onto him impossibly tight. It hurts in the best way possible. You never thought you’d find this, you could be barefoot and pregnant in that choir boy’s kitchen right now. But he was here, and real, and patient, and kind, and hopeful, and trustworthy, and all that stupid shit the pastor used to yap about on Sunday morning.
“What is up with you? You cosplayin’ a boa constrictor or what-? Oh- What's wrong? ”
His tone softened when he pulled back to look at you and saw large tears rolling down your cheeks.
Even now, with a downturned brow and a pout plaguing his features, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. His hair was down, his face free of any of his typical makeup and his skin baby soft and butter smooth. Beautiful dark eyes traced worried patterns over your face, searching for the cause of your tears. His grip on your thighs tightens, protective.
“If you changed your mind-” He starts, voice low and hushed.
“No.” You cut him off, and plopped your forehead against his, probably a little too hard but he’d be okay. You’d tease him about his thick ass skull later.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.
You swallowed your fear, your reservation, the silly, petulant notion that Choso held anything in his chest but genuine adoration for you.
“I’m crying because I’m happy. You make me happy.” You murmur, your eyelids slipping closed. You can't bear to look at him when you say it.
“I love you, Choso Kamo. I love you.”
The air freezes, tenses, and you can swear for a moment the world stops turning. You pry your eyes open against your will to look at him, and he's staring at you in awe, worrying his lip between his teeth, and- were there tears welling in his eyes?
“Say it again.” He whispers “Please.”
“I love you-”
He cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours feverishly. It's gentle, but you can tell he's fighting himself, his hands trembling against your thighs with the force he’s using to force himself into taking his time.
Lips and tongues melding as he carried you down the hall, soft whimpers escaping his lips as your fingers twist in his hair, willing him somehow closer than he already was, wanting him to take your body, and maybe your soul, make it his. He could have it, all of you if he wanted, you knew he'd keep it safe.
“Again” He commands as he lays you on your bed, his hands working your shirt off like he couldn't stand the fabric that hid you from him for a second longer.
“I love you, Cho.” You watch as he pushes himself up off the mattress, standing so that he can pull his own shirt off, revealing that tantalizingly hard frame that you’d fantasized about since the first night you met him. He doesn't give you much time to admire the view before his rough palm is sliding along your freshly bare skin from your hip to the side of your neck. His other hand plants on the mattress beside you, holding himself up as he presses his lips to yours again and then allows himself to leave a sloppy trail of wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. His tongue is hot and desperate, flicking against your skin and leaving cracks of electricity in it's wake.
“Ah, fuck-” the words seem to bubble out of your lips from nowhere as he transitions from licking to sucking, the slightest bit of pain outlining the pleasure. The hand that's been resting against your neck slides down and around your body, and you arch your back so he can undo the clasp of your bra, running your hands along the defined ridges of his back and trying to remember every breath, every touch, every feeling he’s giving you.
How could this be wrong, when his tongue gliding along your collar feels like heaven? How is it that you were reveling in sin if him removing your bra from your chest felt like removing everything that's ever caged you? How was it blasphemy if the way his eyes held contact with yours as he drew stars along your nipple with his tongue felt like worship?
It also felt like hell fire, though, the way there was heat coating every inch of the room, every inch of your body, pooling inside you and sloshing against every flick of his tongue.
Your body knows what you want, even if you don't, and your hands tangle in his hair and push him downwards, urging him to pick up the pace.
He chuckles against your skin, muttering a hushed “So fucking cute-” before kissing your nipple once more and following your silent command, mapping out the skin of your abdomen with his tongue, humming in satisfaction against your skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into the taste.
His hands trace your sides until his thick fingers are hooking under the rim of both your shorts and your underwear, pulling them off in one fell swoop.
And then there you are, naked in front of the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Naked in front of a man who looked like everything you’d ever been warned about, but acted like everything you'd ever been taught was good.
He looked otherworldly, with his hair fluffy and tousled by your fingers. His blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, all the way down his chest, and you notice for the first time the tent in the front of his sweats. His eyes scan you, gliding over different parts of your form, looking hazy and far away, almost lost-
One hand moves to part your knees, which had subconsciously moved together to cover yourself, but he doesn't push, instead lifts his eyes to you, smiling softly. Adoringly.
“Can't do anything for you if you don't let me see, babe.”
You nod, slowly, and begin to part your legs, but something about your face makes him falter, moving to grip your knee and stop you.
“What's wrong, y/n? Do we need to stop?” He's stone-serious all of a sudden “We can stop whenever you want. I promise I can wait.”.
Patient. You remind yourself. Choso Kamo is patient.
“N-no!” You find your words, and he relaxes a little, his grip on your knee loosening “I just- What if you don't-”. You feel embarrassment stinging hot on your cheeks.
His brow furrows as he questions you “...Don't what?”.
The words feel like shattered glass sliding out of your throat:
“What if you don't… like what you see?”
His face falls, and for a second he looks genuinely sad, and you think you’ve ruined it. Again. There's a few silent moments where you think he's gonna call it off, help you redress and leave you here to sleep alone. You recall how you felt in those few weeks of not talking to him the first time.
…But he doesn't. His hands reach out for you and you take them, allowing him to pull you into a sitting position while he stands at the edge of the bed, holding your face upwards so that you have to look at him.
“Y/n.” His tone is somewhere between a scold and a plea, a warning and a prayer “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I am lucky to have you.”.
Tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you draw a shaky breath “I just-”
“Aht.” He stops you, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sickeningly sweet gesture “Let me show you.”.
He pushes on your shoulder until you lean back on one of your palms, and this time when he parts your legs to hike your knees up on his hips, you allow it.
He grabs your free hand and and turns it over in his own, speaking softly, slowly:
“I love your hands, and how small they feel in mine.” He kisses your knuckles, humming against your skin as he continues “I love it when you wrap your arms around me at night, how soft your skin feels against me.”.
He starts at your wrist, planting kiss after kiss, trailing upwards until he lands in the hollow of your throat.
“I love your voice, love to hear you say my name-”
“Choso-” you whine, the flick of his tongue causing your hips to instinctually rock. His clothed erection grinds against your bare clit and you gasp at the contact. It was unfamiliar, but so so fucking good.
“Mmm, yes, baby. Just like that.” He praises, his voice low and husky, and his hands move to your hips to guide you in grinding against him, the pace slow and rhythmic, tantalizingly slow.
“I love these little love handles,” He's speaking through breathy pants now, index fingers tapping against the skin beneath his hands to point them out “They're so hot, doll. You have no idea. I wanna bite them so bad. And just look how nicely they fit in my hands.”.
He's melting you, you're head tipping back and your mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut as you jolt with every brush of your clit.
“I said look-” he growls, and brings one hand up to the back of your hair, jerking your head forward. Your eyes fly open in surprise at his sudden forwardness, only to be met with the sight of him grinding against you, the front of his sweats absolutely soiled by your wetness- or maybe his precum from the other side. Both? Probably both.
But he was right, if you didn't know any better, you'd think your hips were hand carved to fit into his palms.
“Cho, please, please!” You have no idea what you're begging for, but you need more, the unfamiliar heat building in your stomach becoming damn near unbearable.
He chuckles, not his usual way but something a little lower, huskier, almost taunting, and takes a slight step back. You open your mouth to whine about the loss of contact, but then he's kneeling by the bed, throwing your legs up over his shoulders and you realize- oh fuck .
“I love these little tiger stripes” He's back to his monologue, tracing the stretch marks on your inner thigh with his lips.
“So. Goddamn. Pretty.” His words are punctuated with kisses in between “How many years did it take you to grow them? Hmm? How many good meals and growing pains and jeans sizes are painted here, baby?”.
He's babbling, lost in adoration, and all you can do is gasp and whine and keen as he draws closer and closer to your core. You're overwhelmed, by him, by his words, by his lips. Your insides have been blended up and set on a low simmer, sure to bubble and boil until you're completely caramelized, an entirely different form than when you first started.
He presses a chaste kiss to the hood of your clit, almost innocent, and you tense, your whole body coiled in anticipation as you prop yourself up on you elbows to look at him with blown pupils.
“Can I?” He asks, and before the words are even out you’re nodding eagerly, unable to even form words with the way he's got you wrapped around his metaphorical finger.
Tentatively, almost experimentally, he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, smirking as your back arches into the feeling. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, it was indescribably good. Your hands find his hair faster than you can stop them, instinct taking over as you push him down into you by way of gripping his hair, your body aching, pleading for him to do it again.
And he happily obliges, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you down so he can work his magic, and holy hell did it feel like magic. If your brain wasn't absolutely melted, you’d thank him for suggesting your apartment instead of his house. The sounds that we're escaping you were loud and high pitched, broken syllables of his name intermingled with cursing as he draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, gradually picking up pace until you're tossing your upper half back onto the mattress, feeling like he was pulling your very soul from your body in the best way.
“Want my fingers inside you, love?” He pulls away, just briefly, back to kissing your thigh languidly as he waits for you to sober a bit and give him proper consent.
“Yes, yes, yes-” You're helpless against him, trying to roll your hips back up to his face, only to be met with the pressure of his hand against your hip, holding you in place. You’d let him do whatever he wanted.
“Okay, okay!” He giggles, and this time it sounds genuine “Relax for me, pretty girl, it shouldn't hurt but if you're tense…”.
He trails off, pressing a kiss to your other thigh as you settle yourself, laying back with your eyes closed and taking deep, slow breaths while trying not to tremble.
You feel his tongue again first and immediately jolt, and he mumbles your name almost disappointedly, like he expected you to tense again the second he touched you. You mumble an apology, trying again to relax, focusing on the way his tongue felt working your body.
It doesn't take long for the heat to return, soft whine's escaping your lips as you let him take control, loving the way he groans against you, like getting you off was a pleasure. With each stroke an unknown feeling was building in your core, a live wire winding tighter and tighter and-
You gasp as you feel a sudden pressure, his finger pushing into you slowly, carefully, pumping in time with his tongue, working you from the inside and out.
You're back up on your palm now, your free hand reaching for his, tangling your fingers in his, squeezing as your face falls into an opened mouthed silent moan. He hesitates, just briefly, and the panic at the idea of losing the feeling helps you find your words:
“Nonononono, don't stop, Choso, baby, please- please don't stop it's so good, please- please!”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, smirking against you. You didn't give a fuck. Let his ego inflate until it bursts. Let him think he owns your body, because goddamn, you’d let him. You wanted him to. Anything, anything so long as he didn't stop.
Without warning, he slips another finger in and the stretch along with the swirl of his tongue is unreal. You cry out, squeezing his fingers impossibly tight and doubling over just slightly. He's hitting something inside you that you didn't know existed, some type of magical button that had that coil in you wound so tight you feared it might break. And then you feel it, a sharp and hot sensation, brought on so suddenly it had your eyes flying open and sent you scrambling backwards away from him.
“Stop!” You bark, and immediately he pulls out of and away from you, but keeps your fingers intertwined with his, his face crunched in concern.
“You okay?” He asks, genuine worry plaguing his very being “Something hurt?”.
“Yeah, no, it felt good, I just- I felt-” You struggle to describe it, searching for a similar sensation in your mind to compare it to.
While you think, he presses small kisses to your knee, his eyes not as concerned as they were a moment ago, but still cloudy.
“I think I have to pee?” You finally state, but it comes out as more of a question than a matter of fact.
His eyebrows jolt upwards as he breaks into a wide open mouthed grin, and then he laughs in that way that makes you melt, in the way that makes his nose crinkle up and his eyes look like crescent moons.
“Baby!” He cackles incredulously, rising to his feet and placing himself up on the bed, his shoulders resting against the pillows.
“What?” You whine, mildly embarrassed, but take his hands when he reaches for you, letting him guide you until your straddling his hips, shuddering as you feel his still-hard cock spearing your ass.
“You were gonna cum, that's what that was.” He chuckles, pulling you forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself all over him and it lights you on fire.
Choso, smiling, giggling, rock hard beneath you, swirling his tongue around yours when you find yourself smiling too.
Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
“Cho?” you murmur against him, and he hums inquisitively back against your lips.
“Make love to me. Please. Need you close.”
“Yes ma'am. At your service.”
In a few moments, you're on your back in front of him, your thighs spread around his own, watching him roll a latex condom over his length. An artist couldn't paint a view as beautiful as the one in front of you.
Fully protected, he leans down over you, and before he can move to do it himself you’re lapping hungrily at his bottom lip, willing him closer, wanting him to invade your every inch, stake his claim in you.
He hikes one of your legs up with his hand under your knee and you feel him nudge against your entrance, and you surprise yourself with your own feelings. There's no fear, no shame, just love and want.
“You sure?”
“Choso!” You fuss, and he giggles, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead and then resting his own head there, nuzzling you gently. Anyone else, it would be gross; both of you had a sheen of sweat glistening across your foreheads.
“Deep breath for me, sweet girl.” He murmurs, and you do, drawing a heavy lungful of his breath and the hot air surrounding the two of you. At the peak of your intake, he pushes into you, slow and careful, stretching you around him with the patience of a teacher and the intensity of a priest in the height of surmon.
It was all-consuming, the absolutely delectable way he fit inside you, his tip grazing your cervix just ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was the way he’d brought you to the brink of cumming (apparently) before, or just the way your body craved him like water, but he was right; it didn't hurt. Pressure, sure, but not pain.
“Gonna move-” He speaks, and you realize you’re affecting him too. His brow is knitted, bottom lip trembling between his teeth, voice cracked and whiney.
“Please, Cho?” You whimper out, sliding one hand around his back, the other intertwined in his dark hair, now damp from desperate sweat.
He presses his lips to yours and begins to rock his hips, slowly at first, until he hits that sweet spot inside you again, earning him a puppy whine from what felt like the deepest part of your guts. From there, he's zeroed in on that spot, rolling his hips in a way that has him grinding against it over and over.
Each stroke pushes you closer to the brink of enlightenment, you think, modulates your very being with the way that heat is rising inside you again. He moans and whines and whimpers against the crook of your neck as he works, giving away just how much you’re really doing to him, whether he wanted you to know or not.
It makes you smile through the pleasure, and if any sounds could escape you other than moans you may have giggled. He was so fucking cute.
The pressure inside you intensifies, builds until every stroke is crashing over your body in boiling waves, and you feel that hot sensation again as he picks up pace, your pussy twitching around him desperately and your thighs tightening around his back, warning him you were close.
“Say it again for me, baby. Please?” He pants, propping up to watch your face as you inevitably would come undone beneath him.
One of his hands reaches down to circle your clit as you cry out.
“I love you. I-I love you, Chos- nngh, fuck! ”
You cum, for the first time in your life, and it feels like you’ve stepped off the edge of a cliff, adrenaline and excitement exploding from your core. Against your own will, your head flies backwards into the pillow behind you and your body clenches from your scalp to your toes as you ride out your high.
A curse, followed by a keen from Choso as he’s quick to follow behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and slow as he pumps hot ropes of cum into the condom.
He presses into you, resting his body weight against you as the both of you take a moment to catch your breath. It's crushing, his weight, but you couldn't think of a better way to go, so you let him. As you regain some semblance of control over your body, your fingers find their way to his back, swirling along the defined muscle in languid motions.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
“Oh,” He says after a moment, casually, like he'd forgotten to tell you some half hearted plans “I love you too, by the way.”.
You giggle, and jerk his face up to look at you, your hands pressing into his cheeks and puckering up his kiss-bitten lips.
“You are an idiot, Choso Kamo.”
#jjk#choso x reader#choso kamo#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso smut#kamo choso#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso x female reader#cross posted on ao3#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk smut
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growing up and maturing is the weirdest shit ever
"I think somewhere inside me I'm still like seven years old and waiting to call my dad on skype. But i'm also 14 and mad that my dad does drugs (because weed is so bad) and makes bad decisions so I don't want to see him.
But you know what? Mostly I'm just 20, and I just want to get coffee with you." - quote from the letter i wrote my dad, who i haven't spoken to directly for several years
#it's taken me a lot of time to work out my feelings for my dad but i was writing to him and this just like. hit me.#that yeah of course it's complicated and messy for me i was a kid and he lived in a different country#and then he lived in the same state as me#but his life was weird and scary and i just wanted my dad but i didn't like what he surrounded himself with#so i was scared and angry and i turned it on him and blamed him for being the reason he's not in my life#but i was also 16 and asking him to pick me up and sitting at his dining table while he made me soup#so of course it's all weird and twisted up and frustrating#but at the end of the day im 20 years old and there's only one man in the world that i trust completely#and sometimes i just want to drink coffee with him#stevie speaks
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writing a trash twins fic because your actual irl sibling is driving you up the fucking wall
#ada speaks#it worked#i just know dennis and dee living together was disastrous but they had their moments of like. ok maybe i like you sometimes.#i want to kill my sibling more often than not because of the dumbest shit#youre fucking CLEANING YOUR ROOM while im overstimulated? die. every sound you make is irritating and i'm going to beat you to death#but also on good days where neither of them are irritated i'm sure they'd just be chilling#its about the routine and the familiarity#one of them gets up early and makes coffee for the three of them. like. eh its just an extra scoop or two#no big deal. its not like i was doing it for you.#(bet mac's making the coffee more often than den or dee though lmao)#i think it's in group dates where dennis and dee are sitting on the couch together and just talking while dennis is eating breakfast#just the thought of them grocery shopping together because dennis is tired of dee buying shit he doesn't like#like okay. we're getting fresh fruit and i am making my own fucking orange juice today.#mf drinks orange juice out of a glass bottle. that sure was a choice they (props) made for him.#anyway. holy shit tangent.
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fuck fuck fuck fuck
#they just made me LEAVE HIM they just made me go home#it has to be okay please let it be okay#im fine I just. I want to know what’s happening I desperately don’t want to know but I have to#you try to detach right? you try to separate you put up barriers you throw out dark jokes you drink you forget#but then you have the long-term ones. the ones who know themselves. you know them you have inside jokes#you know their family dynamics you know their fears you hear the secrets that come out at 4am you know their favorite foods socks colors#you know how they sleep and how they take their coffee you remember how much ice to put in their water#you remember that they sleep with two blankets and their feet uncovered#you have all the knowledge in the world about them and it’s still not enough to save them sometimes#you turn the puzzle over and over in your head how do I do better how do I fix this? how do I fix this?? how do I play the losing hand#what a strange sad puzzle what a terrible thing
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i hate adoring books that don’t rlly have a fandom bc who tf am i supposed to talk abt ed kennedy from i am the messenger with
#he saw his house was broken into got and then knocked out and when he woke up he asked if his rancid smelling coffee drinking dog was okay#icon behavior#y’all know the one will wood song the main character#the ending part. So Ed Kennedy.#‘so god forbid i’m seen as just an average human being’ ‘i’m the gap between a tragedy and comedy’#he’s so pathetic and he’s such a loser and he is my baby girl#i’m only like. 100 pages in but. shh.#i wouldn’t call him a blorbo but def a main character i can get behind#he’s one of the characters that’s just Such A Dick BUT he’s very self aware#ok he’s not a total dick he helps a lot of ppl out bUT#he’s a bit childish and annoying at times BUT AGAIN he’s vry self aware and the books calls it out Immediately#his friends tho r asshats at times lmao but that is kind of the point#i’m ngl. ik ed isn’t a great person personality wise. but God he just like me fr sometimes#second pathetic guy named ed i relate to. hm. does this say something abt me. i don’t know. i don’t want to know.
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Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.
a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!
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You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.
You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.
There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.
The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.
And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.
For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.
"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.
He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.
"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.
You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."
Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.
He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.
You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.
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His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.
He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.
Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)
"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."
'Or something?' he wanted to ask.
He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)
It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.
Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.
The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.
He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.
He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.
"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.
"I've come to join you, actually."
Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.
"You have a nice laugh."
He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.
You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.
"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"
Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.
"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.
Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.
"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.
Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.
All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.
His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."
"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."
Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.
~
taglist (i totally forgot i'm sorry!!): @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 (send and ask to be added!)
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#alastor fic#alastor headcanons#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfic
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Mr. Take Your Bitch
Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 8.2k
Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.
Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.
"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.
"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."
"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.
"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.
"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.
"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"
"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.
"Exactly, and-"
"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.
Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.
They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.
It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.
The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.
Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.
That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.
You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.
You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.
She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.
She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.
Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.
Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.
With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.
Did you zone out?
You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.
Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.
You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.
It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.
He was looking right at you.
And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.
You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.
It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.
The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.
You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.
Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm
Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm
Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm
You scoff at the messages.
Unbelievable.
Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!
You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.
If you could even call it that.
You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.
Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.
You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.
You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.
-
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.
"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.
"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.
"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.
"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.
"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.
"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"
"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.
She could see you were starting to consider it.
"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.
"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."
--
Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.
That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.
She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.
You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.
This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.
Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.
He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.
The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.
He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.
Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.
"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"
The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.
Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.
Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.
Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.
You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.
"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-
"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.
"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"
It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.
"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.
This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.
-
"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.
"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."
"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."
Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.
-
Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.
The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.
Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.
"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.
By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.
"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.
"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."
-
There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.
Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.
He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-
A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.
Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.
Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.
In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.
His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.
With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.
As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.
Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.
Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.
Even if you didn't know it yet.
Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.
Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.
"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."
That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.
Almost as though he wanted you to break.
You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.
"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.
"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."
--
Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.
"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.
There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.
Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.
"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.
While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?
Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.
The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.
Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm
Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm
You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."
The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.
Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,
"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"
"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."
The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.
The doors open.
You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.
The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.
"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.
Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.
"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.
"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.
"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.
How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.
Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.
"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."
"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.
He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.
The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.
"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."
You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"
Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."
It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-
Your phone buzzes.
You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm
Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm
God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.
You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm
Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm
You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.
You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm
You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm
You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm
You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.
You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.
The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.
"Love to."
The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.
Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.
Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."
It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.
This very moment was destined from the start.
"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.
"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.
His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.
There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.
His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"
"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.
"So you admit it. You think about me too?"
You step back.
"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.
The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.
But you couldn't.
He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."
You don't want him. you lie to yourself.
Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.
"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.
There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.
The dam finally broke.
You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.
This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.
The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--
"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.
You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.
And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.
"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.
"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"
You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.
"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.
He was waiting for you.
The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.
The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.
Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.
A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.
On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,
He spins you around, he had you cornered.
Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.
This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.
He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.
Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?
"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.
You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.
All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.
You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.
He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.
You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.
"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.
"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.
Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.
You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.
Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.
He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.
You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.
"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"
You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.
On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.
"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.
You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.
Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.
It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?
He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.
He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.
"Hope you're not scared of heights."
Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.
"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.
Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.
"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.
It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.
You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.
"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.
Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.
You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.
"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.
That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.
Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.
Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.
"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.
Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.
He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
-
"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.
"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.
"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."
You open the envelope to read the card aloud,
'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'
Sunny squealed in your ear.
"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.
"Hello?" He answers.
"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"
Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."
He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-
"How- What?"
"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.
"I know."
"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.
"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"
He smiles.
#bts#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jungkook fic recs#bts one shot#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#btssmuts#bts scenarios#fluff#bts smut#smut
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dawn - percy jackson
Request: nope
Pairing: percy jackson x child of apollo!reader
Summary: percy wakes early because of a nightmare and you're not next to him
Warnings: swearing, mentions of nightmares, percy being scared :(
Word count: 900
A/N: SHIFTING INTO PERCY JACKSON MODE AGAIN !!! I cannot wait for the show !!! also this is based on a head canon I saw once and now it's my favorite, enjoy!
percy hears you scream again. he needs to find you now.
he's been running for too long now, you've been screaming for too long. he could tell from your screams you had gone from scared to absolutely terrified.
and he knows you've been through as much as he has. it took a lot to make you scared. and something has made you terrified.
percy runs around the corner, gripping his sword tight. up ahead he can see a shadow. that must be you.
he takes off running again but as he gets closer to the shadow, it's not you. it's someone - or something - that is holding two very long, very sharp swords.
percy turns around and bolts through a door. you scream again. and again. he can't get to you. gods, he's going to lose you.
with a start, percy's eyes fly open.
he's breathing heavily and his hands are gripping the bedsheets. percy's chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself. he reaches out to you, but you're not next to him.
what if it wasn't a nightmare? fuck.
he pushes himself up with one elbow and notices the door to his cabin is slightly open. he can see you sitting just outside.
percy closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto his pillow. he frowns when they're damp. great, he was sweating. that means it was a really bad one.
'shit.' he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. there's no way he's getting any sleep now. at least not with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
he can tell it's very early in the morning. the sun is starting to rise, but it's still pretty dark outside. percy looks over to you again and notices a mug in your hands, steam rising from it.
after the nightmare he had, he just needs you close. so he gets up and puts on a sweater and boots before joining you outside.
you look up when you hear footsteps on the wooden floor.
'hi. did I wake you?' you say, reaching for percy and pulling him down to squeeze into the chair next to you, careful not to spill your drink.
'no.' his answer is short.
'nightmare?' you ask, noticing the collar of his shirt that sticks to his sweaty neck.
'yeah.' he moves to get closer to you, needing to be near you.
'want to talk about it?' you say, lazily running your fingers through his hair near the back of his neck.
percy sighs softly. 'lately it's the same one.' he says. 'you're somewhere, I don't know where, I can't see you. but I can hear you. you're screaming for help, for me to come get you out of wherever you are. but there's this big guy chasing me and I can never get to you in time.'
he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown the image out.
'it's okay.' you say. 'I'm here now.'
'I know you are. you think I can ask any of the gods if they can stop the nightmares?'
you chuckle softly. 'it's worth a shot.'
'hey, wait. why weren't you next to me when I woke up?' he says, remembering the moment the nightmare shook him awake.
he turns slightly so he can look you in the eye, brows slightly furrowed. 'do you still have nightmares?'
'sometimes.'
'but they didn't wake you tonight?'
'no.'
'wait, so you willingly got up at the ass crack of dawn?'
you smile. 'also no.'
'you're usually up early, though. even on quests when you're exhausted but we need to go on, you're always the first one awake. perks of being apollo's kid?'
this time you laugh softly. 'no, more like downside of being his kid.'
percy frowns again. 'what are you talking about?"
'well, everyone wakes at dawn. look, will's awake as well.' you say, pointing to your cabin in the distance. 'michael is just coming back from getting his coffee. I saw lee as well.'
percy still looks confused. you're tempted to give him some weird reason and have him figure out I fit's real or not. but he might not even believe the truth.
'you know how apollo uses his chariot to ride across the sky to give us the sunrise, right?' you say.
'yeah, you told me about that.' says percy.
'well, when he does that he blasts heavy metal at a frequency only apollo kids can hear. so we can see him in the sky in all his glory.'
'seriously?'
'his words, not mine.'
percy laughs. 'that does sound like apollo, yes.'
'it's nice, tough. waking up before everyone else does. especially the younger kids.'
'hey, next time, wake me up okay?'
'I prefer to let you sleep. that's why I always get up quietly.'
'I know, and I appreciate it. but this is nice, just us.'
'us and all of my cabin.'
'well, yeah, but you're the only apollo kid sleeping in my cabin.' says percy, nudging your shoulder an smiling.
'and it better stay that way.' you say, smiling as well. 'I call dips on the shower.'
you lean in to kiss his cheek and get up, letting percy enjoy the rest of the sunrise on his own.
A/N:
If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist.
Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading!
Much love,
Marit
#percy jackson#pjo#Percy Jackson x reader#Percy Jackson fanfic#Percy Jackson fanfics#Percy Jackson fanfiction#Percy Jackson fic#Percy Jackson fics#Percy Jackson oneshot#Percy Jackson oneshots#Percy Jackson x apollo!reader#pjo fanfiction#pjo fanfic#pjo fanfics#pjo fic#pjo fics#pjo oneshot#pjo oneshots
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A Fighting Chance
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
Part 2, Masterlist,
"What're those?"
"Papers."
Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.
The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.
It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.
There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.
But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.
He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"
"I want a divorce."
And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.
"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.
Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."
"I did. I won't sign them."
"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.
"I don't."
She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.
"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."
"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.
Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.
When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.
"Why?"
Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.
"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.
"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"
Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.
"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.
"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."
It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.
"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.
He's about to lose her.
Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.
It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.
"I don't think you do."
Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.
Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.
"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.
"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."
She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."
"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"
"Simon-"
"A week."
"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"
"One week."
She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.
"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."
"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.
"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.
Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.
When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?
Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.
He takes her in quietly for a moment.
The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.
Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.
A right fucking bastard he was for it.
"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"
For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.
But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.
And it's all he needs.
A fighting chance.
Reblog, Like and Comment!
Part 2
(11/10/2023)
#ghost cod#cod mw ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost modern warfare#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader#cod ghost#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare x reader#angst#x reader#x y/n#fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare ii#modern warfare#cod modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii
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say it (m.s)
master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: VERY heavy smut and strong language
preview: Matt has been stressed out all day because of filming. his brothers have been on his last nerve. when he gets home, he takes out his frustration on you and he doesn't think you're taking him seriously. so he makes you take him seriously.
a/n: I literally imagine Matt take out his frustration on me 24/7. like yes give it to me lmao. - L 🤍
it was 10 p.m at night. you were waiting for Matt to get home. he was out filming a car video with his brothers Nick and Chris, for their youtube channel. you sat on your bed reaching down at the laundry basket beneath your one foot dangling on the side of the bed. you started folding your clothes neatly as you watched tv.
it’s already been 2 hours since he left at like 8 ish. you yawn still folding your clothes. you always waited for him to get home before falling asleep. you always wanted to make sure he got home safely.
suddenly, you hear the front door opening. you stopped everything you were doing, standing up about to head to the door but you freeze at the loud slam. “i’m home” you hear him yell out from behind the door. he was angry. you open the door and face him. “hey Matt…” you say hesitantly. all he does is look at you giving you a nod before walking to the fridge to grab a root beer. he twists the cap open, then taking a sip. all you do is stare at him before speaking, “how did filming go?” you ask stupidly. Matt then looks at you with a blank stare, “how do you think it went?” he says. “okay so i assume it didn’t go as well.” you say walking up closer to him but he turns away sitting on the couch.
“what happened?” you say turning to look at him crouched forward sipping his drink. “nothing it’s fucking stupid.” he responds clenching the plastic bottle. “well it’s clearly bothering you.” you lean back onto the counter saying. “so it’s not-.” Matt interrupts, “y/n just mind your business.” you knew how he gets when he’s upset. he turned cold and sometimes said stuff that really upset you. “i’m sorry. that was rude of me.” he says placing the bottle on the coffee table. he turns his head looking at you, “it really wasn’t a big deal. i’m just irritated by the fact i can’t ever get a word in without being interrupted.” he says with clear frustration. “Chris won’t ever shut his big mouth. the stupidest shit always comes out and Nick entertains it. every time i try to speak, Chris does it on purpose i swear, he just blurts out something we won’t even be talking about in the moment.” you let out a laugh but shortly stop as Matt darts his eyes at you seriously. “sorry” you mumble out. “see not a big deal since you think its so funny.” he says with a scoff.
you roll your eyes as you speak, “Matt don’t even start. i already said sorry.” his eyes were piercing through yours making you clear your throat. “okay Matt continue please.” you say. “no. you don’t care.” he responds looking away getting on his phone. you groan and shake your head. “fine be like that. i’m going to bed.” before you head to your bedroom, you pour yourself a cup of water and then walk towards the bedroom door.
Matt puts his phone down next to him, shaking his head letting out a scoff behind his smirk. “stop” he sternly says looking at you. you stop in your tracks as you turn around and face him. he stays quiet looking at you up and down before speaking, “put the water down” he says. “Matt i’m going to-.” you let out but he interrupts. “put it down.” with a dominant tone. you put down the water on the counter. you turn to look back at him but you see him walk out onto the balcony. you follow shortly after and join him outside. he was standing there leaned against the railing staring at the city lights. "why are we out here?" you ask confused. he keeps his eyes on the view not saying anything. you let out a soft sigh as you mimic his stance. “Matt-.” you were about to say but he gives you a glare. “you’ll find out.” he responds with a blank face.
eventually he looks away and sits on the arm chair that decorates the balcony. you turn to look at him as you can't help but notice his dark eyes. he leans back into the chair and spreads his legs slightly. he licks his lips raising his hand onto his lap, patting it, "come here" he demands. you nod your head as you walk over to him. you were going to sit on his lap but he sits up stopping you. "on your knees." your eyes widen at the command. "w-what?” you stutter out, “out here on the balcony?” he looks at you with the same glare from earlier. "do it." you nod hesitantly eventually kneeling down slowly. you gulp as you look up at him with your doe eyes. he stays silent as he brings his hands to unbutton his pants not breaking eye contact. he slightly brings down his pants as he pulls out his hard cock into his hand, stroking it.
"you're going to help me. aren't you?" he says. you bring yourself slightly up as you replace his hand on his cock with yours. he brings himself forward a bit. you stroke his dick slowly looking down at it. your hand looked small wrapped around it. slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip, moving with a normal pace. not too slow and not too fast. you use both of your hands to stroke the remainder of his cock that couldn't fit in your mouth. he lifts his shirt up getting it away from your face. he then uses his other hand placing it on top of your head. he then pushes your head down, repeatedly bobbing it, making you tear up from how big his cock is. you take your hand and tap him to signal you can't handle the size hitting the back of your throat. he lets out a small low laugh as he grips your hair continuing to bob your head up and down. "who's laughing now?" he says. you gag slightly every time your head goes down. more tears streamed down your face with your eyes feeling cloudy. "look up at me." he says.
you look up weakly at him as you keep eye contact. he groans at the sight. "what? you can't take it no more?" he asks slowing down the pace he had you at. you couldn't say anything but look into his eyes that were filled with dominance. he releases your head from his grip, pushing you off him softly. you stay on your knees letting out a soft cough as he wipes your drooling mouth. he leans forward grabbing your hands as he pulls you up. once you stood up slowly he lets go of your hands still sitting there. "take these off." he says tugging your pajama pants lightly. you look into his eyes, pulling down your pants, along with your panties, letting them hit the ground. you step out from the soft fabric and laced garment standing there nervously.
you were scared the apartments in front of you could see you guys through their windows. your next door neighbors could also potentially catch you both in the act if they step outside their own balconies to peak. Matt grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap. he immediately pulls you in by your face, attaching his lips with yours. you could feel his hard dick twitch under your entrance as you kiss back eagerly. the kiss was filled with anticipation. he runs his hands down the sides of your body as he lands on your hips.
he keeps them there gripping a little hard as he starts moving you back and forth against his cock, grinding on it not breaking the kiss. you felt yourself getting more wet after each kiss and each hip movement. he then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth as you fight for dominance. of course, he won. you tangle your fingers in his hair as you buck your hips, matching the pace of his hand movements. Matt then pulls away not wasting time attaching them onto your free nipple. you throw your head back slightly by his wet mouth sucking harshly on your hard nip. still grinding on him, he then stops you, also pulling away from your tit as he raises you up a bit. Matt takes his cock into his hand as he slips it into your wet core causing you to slip out a loud whimper. he darts his eyes onto yours as he brings up one hand, covering your mouth. "you don't want to be caught don't you?" he whispers.
you shake your head as he whispers, "okay then keep it down." he places his hands back onto your waist, with you slowly starting to ride him. you bite your bottom lip trying to fight back the noises. his grip gets tighter as you speed up your pace. he pushes you down a bit more making sure every inch of his cock sits inside of you. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "you enjoy this huh?" he whispers in your ear. you try to make out words but you failed or else moans would fly out. "say it." he says firmly. "y-yes" you finally let out. "then prove it." he says breathlessly. you lean back slightly as your hands rest on his knees behind you. you roll your hips back and forth making sure you were pressed down all the way, having him deep inside. he throws his head back biting his bottom lip hard. you throw your head back as well, gulping down your moans.
"you move your hips so perfectly." he says bringing his head back up straight. he bites his lip again as he watches you continue to ride him. "just like that." he says. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face into his neck again, still keeping your pace. "f-fuck Matt. your dick feels so good inside of me." you moan in his ear. he smirks as he stops your movement. you sit back up confused.
he leans back into the chair, pulling you up slightly as he starts to take control. the sudden thrusts make you moan out by surprise. "shhh.. just take this dick." he whispers. but you were really struggling keeping it in. the more he heard you fall apart, the more he sped up. he covers your mouth as he pounds harder into you, bruising your pussy. you bite the inside of his hand from the feeling of pain and pleasure. your eyes clouded up again as tears rolled down your cheeks. it hurt so good.
you look up and see your reflection in the window. you saw your tits bounce up and down from his thrusts. the clapping noise that was being made with your guys bodies coming together, started to get louder. you and Matt both look at each other when you hear someone open their sliding door. you widen your eyes as he continues to thrust. his hand was still on your mouth so you tap him signaling to stop. all he does is shake his head.
you grip onto his shoulders with your eyes rolling back feeling your stomach in a knot, indicating you were about to cum. you could feel Matt’s thrust getting slightly tamer; you could tell he was close. after a few more thrusts, you finally released all over his cock almost falling because of how weak you felt. “o-oh fuck” Matt whispers out at your actions. he then pulls you off his twitching cock as he cums on his stomach. you collapse onto his chest weakly as you both lay there out of breath.
after you both caught up with your breathing, you guys continue staying quiet, knowing your neighbor is outside on their balcony. but thankfully, after a bit they went back inside. you and Matt look at each other and let out a sigh of relief at the same time.
a/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! - L 🤍
#Spotify#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets smut#smut#sturniolo imagine#imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut
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little bit of advice, take the dare.
pairing: bang chan x f!reader.
warnings: profanities, implied exhibitionism, dirty truth or dare (more like dare or dare...), stripping, mild grinding, dirty talks.
genre: implied rivals to lovers, implied smut.
rating: mature.
word count: 2.1k
“Let Chan strip two pieces of your clothing.”
These little bitches.
The innocence in Seungmin’s broad grin as he delivered aloud and clear what Minho had earlier whispered in his ear wasn’t able to deceit Chan the slightest in spite of it combined with that sparkly attentive puppy stare.
A foul scheme had been carefully arranged in those two cunning heads of theirs before they instigated this truth or dare game as soon as the majority of people returned home. Chan wasn’t oblivious of what he would get himself into the moment Minho escorted him from the drinking game in the back patio to a coffee table in the living room and begged him to join in the fun. Especially when you were one of the people centering around the table.
And so Chan was down for whatever challenges thrown his way no matter truth or dare it was that he ended up choosing. Wouldn’t really matter. Except now it was your turn, yet he was somehow involved in such a risque dare so early in the game.
Seungmin’s index finger pointed around the room twice, attracting the attention of the few people close enough to the table to see what he was up to, and he added, “or let anyone in the room. Your choice.”
As though he expected you would actually pick one of the sweaty and tipsy dimwits you barely knew of instead of Chan who you were certainly more familiar with. When, seriously, it was clear to Chan that both Seungmin and Minho wanted to prove him wrong— that the possibility of you romantically attracted to one another wasn’t even close to impossible despite the banter between the two of you sometimes getting out of hand.
The banter, Seungmin and Minho insisted, was a flirting attempt.
You leaned back onto the sofa behind you, crossing your arms with a stare of haughty disdain piercing through Seungmin and Minho’s who both seemed to be just as imperious.
“I was expecting a more daring one from you horny freaks,” your eyes then landed on Chan who was sitting across from you. Not looking away, your proud smile widened into a blithe grin, “this isn’t even his dare. But if he’s down, I don’t see why I have to back down.”
Chan stretched his arms and arched his back as a dramatic warmup before downing the remaining liquor in his red cup, earning supportive laughs from the excessively excited spectators around. “As long as you don’t back down if they involve you in my dares later.”
Getting up from the floor, you rounded the table and stood before him. You mirrored the smug grin that stretched across his face as he peered up at you, “pants and sweater then, gentleman.”
Despite the profuse tease that gleamed in your irises, Chan didn’t entertain you with even a slight wavering in the way he looked back up at you. Instead, taunting you with a faux innocent tilt of his head as his firm yet tender fingers began to toy with the button of your jeans.
The waistband of your black panties as if emerged once he slid down the zipper. He wasn’t sure if your hand placement on the crown of his head was unintended, but then your lips tilted up into a smile and your brow arched challengingly as your fingers ran through the soft tresses of his brown curls.
Encouraged, he lifted the hem of your sweater, exposing just enough of your bare stomach. His other palm smothered around your waist and landed on the small of your back, drawing you closer until his lips accidentally brushed against the bare skin of your stomach.
Chan’s hearts didn’t leap at his own sly, dirty initiation.
It didn’t. Definitely not.
Perhaps one could cut the air with a knife as the tension between you two was thickening the longer he took his time sliding the pants off your waist and the tighter you had his hair gripped in your palm. But everyone else was too preoccupied with keeping track of his veiny hands lingering around the waistband of your jeans, tugging down the denims at an intentionally slow pace.
In one glance, nothing of your true emotions was shown through your perfunctory facade. But Chan was practically on his knees, hands on you, and there was less than two inches gap between his lips and your stomach. Anything changed from your stance, he could easily catch it.
So when he felt you tensed up when he tantalized you by skimming his palm down the side of your thigh as the other pulled the jeans down to pool around your ankles, he had to fight back the triumphant grin he felt was close to spread on his face.
Once the pants were tossed somewhere on the floor, Chan got up on his feet as you held your arms up for him to take your knitted sweater off over your head.
His eyes peered down at where the bare skin of your stomach was supposed to be on full display as he pulled the hem of your sweater up. The underband of your bralette was slowly showing the higher the hem of your sweater was lifted.
He drew closer, lips lingered on your ear, chuckling and murmuring out of everyone’s earshot, “should’ve made you rid of three garments instead of two. What a shame.”
You ran your palms down along his torso as soon as your sweater was off your upper half, and you leaned in to whisper in his ear where nobody else could hear, too. “Next time it’s your turn, I’ll make you stand on the porch naked.”
Shameless gasps of “oh fuck” was heard from around you as you casually sat down with only high cut panties and black bralette. Chan could easily relate. He found himself checking you out when you weren’t looking.
He was grateful of the sudden rough smack on his thigh that brought him back to his senses. He looked to his left where the hand was from and Minho shot him a knowing look before leaning over to mutter, “you fucking pervert.”
He chuckled. Perhaps he was.
“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” Felix chippered lovely squeaks and giggles as he bounced up and down on the carpeted floor in anticipation. More because the game had progressed into all the more obscene to earlier than he had expected. Don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face.
Chan just had to dissolve into laughter and squeaks and giggles when the bottle cap once again pointed in your direction. Twice in a row, it was. He threw his head back laughing when your jaw plunged into the ground in disbelief and eyes narrowed into slits in spite, feeling betrayed— by the bottle.
“Sit on Chan’s lap.” Jeongin smugly declared before anyone could even think of something potent to embarrass yourself, effectively shutting down the jeers and laughter as they contemplated.
You shrugged, once again rounding the table to where Chan was perched on the floor and nonchalantly settled your ass on his lap before he could protest.
Chan, on the other hand, grasped either side of your waist tightly and tried to prevent you from dwelling on that particular spot. But you persisted on reclining your back onto his chest, shoving your ass further down to where Chan could feel himself twitch.
“Fuck you.” He cursed against your neck when you slightly wiggled your lower half.
“Quit being a jerk,” you whispered back with a chuckle, but tone laced with genuine threat, “or I’ll make you wet your pants. Literally.”
Not even thirty minutes into the game that everyone around the table was a little tipsy with signs of either misery and happiness written on their faces.
With five people being out of the circle and off to the back patio for a lot more lame drinking game with other football players, the remaining nine still held out in place to seek revenge.
Minho had tasted his own medicine as he was left with only briefs around his waist but not that he was unhappy about it as he’d gotten to proudly present his hard-earned well built body when you had Jisung leave three hickeys on his shoulders and two on his inner thigh. Jisung had solid yellow face paint all over his face, exactly resembling Looney Tunes’ Tweety.
Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor with occasional dramatic huffs and groans after he’d called his problematic ex and told him he’d been missing him. Changbin and Felix were disgustingly glued to one another after the older prolonged the supposedly five-second kiss. Seungmin had collected lipstick marks around his neck from ten people. Jeongin almost passed out from seven slices of pizza he’d had to finish before Seungmin returned.
And Chan was about to get his second turn after the top of the bottle pointed at him and you, who was still very much comfortably perched on his lap.
“Dare.” He didn’t even hesitate, calm and confident.
Not even when Minho slightly shoved himself forward to gain everyone’s attention. A little lift at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed and for some reason, Chan was even anticipating what the little bitch had to say now.
“Are people still doing seven minutes in heaven?” Minho blurted, making Felix perk up instantly.
Hyunjin abruptly ended his dramatic disintegration and sat down with a gasp. “Oh my god,” he started, “I did it a year ago at a frat party with a guy except we weren’t allowed to say anything. Not a single fucking sound ‘cause one of them was sitting in the front of the door and if they heard even a small bit of me moaning, we’d have to walk to class the next day with extremely short fucking miniskirt. Imagine such suffering I had to bear while a hot guy blew me. He was great though.”
Wonder-stricken looks were instead what the taller got from everyone in the room. Minho was especially beaming at the deliberate suggestion and against his better judgement, his eyes landed on Chan whose chin rested on your shoulder. The older raised a brow in amusement when catching him staring, already seeing through the younger’s impish smirk.
Seungmin turned towards Minho, “I vote for what exactly Hyunjin did.”
Minho chuckled, “slow down, my guy. Our Channie doesn’t have to get someone suck him off. He can do whatever he pleases behind the door. But not. A single. Fucking. Sound.” He firmly suggested as he looked Chan dead in the eye. Insisted, even, perhaps, “or Changbin would love to lend his sister’s pink tutu.”
While Chan’s expression was hard to read, the rest seemed to be pleased. Excited, even.
You straightforwardly approved of Minho’s suggestion, ripping through the sound of supportive cheers from the others with an excited squeak after taking a sip of cheap beer from your cup, “I volunteer to sit at the door.”
Chan snorted behind you, “who says you’re not coming with me?”
A noisy commotion of “ooooohhh” and dramatic “aaaaahhh” immediately collided with the blaring EDM played in the background.
He’d thought you would never run out of snide remarks to shoot back at him at a time like this. So when you choked on your drink at his candidness, he couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Felix unattached himself from Changbin’s arm, hands flailing before his own face as he grinned so brightly that the dim room no longer seemed to be as dim as it was supposed to be. Once again, don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face. “Okay, look. You got seven minutes. Choose your person. No sounds allowed. We’ll set the timer once the door’s shut.”
“That room’s empty.” Changbin added with a snicker, nodding at the door to his roommate’s room, “he’s gone for two weeks. Just don’t make a mess.”
If Chan was surprised at how he managed to manhandle you and somehow scoop you up as he got on his feet, it didn’t show on his face. You securely wrapped yourself around his upper half, a long list of filthiest profanity was at the tip of your tongue at the sudden, unannounced move.
Chan blinked. Not breaking eye contact, his tongue brushed over the upper row of his pearly teeth before those sank in his lower lip. There might be a lack of reaction shown on your face as you seemed to be still as annoyed, but the faint pinkish tint that stained your cheeks had said so much already.
He glanced over to Changbin, nodding, “worry not. I’ll swallow everything y/n has to give me.”
“You better,” your irritated stare tapered off into that of a challenging glare injecting venom straight into his dimpled grin, “or I’ll make you wear the tutu.”
#skz fictions#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz smut#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz bang chan#bang chan smut#chan smut#chan imagines
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Too Sweet
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Spencer Reid x Reader
:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::
warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)
author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!
WC :: ~4k
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It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites.
He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now.
“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.
“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as you practically sang his name.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Yes,” you responded.
“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked.
“Then why are you calling?”
You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most.
Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.
Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him.
“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically.
“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”
“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though.
“What are you drinking?” you asked.
“Uh, whiskey. Neat.”
“Ew, why?” you joked.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too.
“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.
“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though.
“Water,” you joked, making him laugh.
Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips.
“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him.
“Yes,” his voice was a whisper.
You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.
“No, don’t,” he rushed out.
“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you.
“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”
Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.
“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.
“You’re not an elephant.”
And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them.
“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.
“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.
He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day.
You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always.
You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.
He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself.
He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.
“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered.
“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.
“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs.
“Spencer!” you gasped.
He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.
He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you.
He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud.
Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that.
“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.
“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.
“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”
“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.
“Ok, fine,” he stood up.
“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”
“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl.
He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself.
“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.
“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.
“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs.
His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together.
Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy.
Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax.
“Oh god, too much, Spence.”
“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously.
“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly.
When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs.
“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined.
“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined.
“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained.
“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.
You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course.
Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of.
He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”
“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.
“They will,” you assured him.
You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe.
“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face.
“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”
“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.
“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle.
Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.
Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place.
Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time.
Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp.
You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.
“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.
“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again.
Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you.
“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax.
“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated.
You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high.
Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts.
“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.
“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink.
Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before.
“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”
“I’m close,” he breathed out.
“Fuck,” you cried.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.
You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips.
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer.
“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently.
He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted.
“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.”
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face.
Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read.
Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him.
“Hey,” his voice was quiet.
“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing.
“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back.
“No, but having you here is enough.”
You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you.
You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut#first fic back!!#hope you enjoyed reading#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#mgg fluff#mgg x reader#reader insert#smut
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Hi fawn 🏞️ what do you think bau!reaction would be to early spencer reid having a really hot girlfriend when they come to his house for some reason and a girl comes to answer the door with a robe and messy hair?
There’s an incessant knocking at Spencer’s front door but the man is sound asleep beside you.
His eyelashes look soft and pretty like the rest of him and you fight hard not to brush a finger against the crush of them.
You can also see some of the marks you’d left on him the night before- purple mottling bruises along his collarbones and chest that make you smile.
Taking pity on him, you kiss his browbone and slip into one of his old shirts and shove your feet into slippers before padding out to the front door.
On the other side of the door you can make out talking, “Wonder if he’s okay?” You hear a girl say and then, “It’s Spencer, he can hold his own.” Says a male one and then there’s another male voice that says, “If he doesn’t open this door in the next second I’m kicking it in Garcia.”
So you open it, using half of the door to block your body from view.
“Morning, can I help you?” You’re vaguely aware of the fact that there’s four FBI looking agents standing before you while you’re just wearing your boyfriend’s discarded shirt and you want to flush but what can you do- it’s hardly even eight o’clock.
“Yes you can,” says a bald man, Morgan you assume from Spencer’s recounts of his friends. “Where’s Spencer, sweetheart?”
You frown, “Asleep. Do you need him for work?”
A girl in a bright orange skirt shakes her head, “Oh you’re gorgeous! Hi I’m Penelope, that’s Derek, there’s JJ, Hotch.” The man named Hotch clears his throat, giving you a tiny smile.
“We do sorry. Can you get him?” He asks politely and you nod, eyeing them all a little. They’re all looking at you like you’ve grown three heads, a mixture of shock (from Penelope and JJ), pride (from Derek) and something akin to knowing on Hotch’s face.
You’re about to shut the door to get your boyfriend when you feel him right behind you. “Spence, your friends are here,”
Derek whistles and you catch sight of the marks visible on your boyfriend and you feel a little embarrassed. “Okay pretty boy, I see you!” JJ smacks Derek who groans and laughs a little.
He kisses the crown of your head, “Sorry, angel.” He whispers, still knuckling sleep from his eyes. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” He says to his team who all nod.
“We’re in the SUV.” Hotch says, Penelope nods, giving you a bright smile.
“It was so nice to meet you! We have to go for drinks sometime!”
JJ laughs, “It was nice to meet you.” You nod, a little smile on your face.
Derek claps Spencer on his shoulder and gives you a nod before Spencer closes the door, you can just faintly make out, “Spencer’s got game!” As it shuts.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know they’d show up at my door.” Spencer says softly and you shrug.
“That’s your job Spence, it’s unpredictable. Can we squeeze coffee into those twenty minutes?” Spencer smiles, all tired and lovely.
“Yeah I can, let me shower first and I’ll be down for five minutes of morning coffee.”
#spencerreid#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x y/n
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if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard
love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader
You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised.
“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery.
“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection.
“He’s so lovely.”
“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?”
Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.”
You turn around.
“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks.
“What?”
You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say.
You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him.
“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says.
“What for?”
“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.”
As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend.
“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say.
You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.”
You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!”
“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.”
“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease.
“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?”
You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.”
“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”
Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?”
He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.”
His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch.
“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.”
He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.
“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.”
“Understatement of the year.”
You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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