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#he had no right to be this pretty and pitiful in this scene
oddaesthetin · 1 day
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sunny days — yoon jeonghan
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“aigoo. you really have got to get out of here.”
awoken from the sound, you grunted as you tried to find where the voice was coming from. just near the bedroom door stands your hannie, with both arms resting at both sides of his hips. you whined and closed your eyes as you felt your energy depleting again.
it was monday, and you really have no plans whatsoever to spend the day. after two weeks of being completely eaten out by a very important presentation at work, your two days off were the only ones you had long anticipated. and it’s not that you didn’t miss spending time with your boyfriend, but he’s mostly been here with you on the two weeks you were killing yourself over work, so you’re pretty sure he’s aware of what you’ve been through.
“no, like seriously, when was the last time you actually went out and just basked in the sun?” footsteps nearing your bed, you raised your head again and looked at him with sleepy eyes.
“don’t know and don’t care, hannie. i’m so tired,” you said in a groggy voice, hoping he’d feel even just a little bit of pity and not make you go out. “besides, since when were you the one to be excited to ‘go out and bask in the sun’? last time i checked, you’re the type to hibernate longer than a dormouse.”
fast forward to 40 minutes later, you found yourself getting dragged by jeonghan outside your apartment complex. something about how you needed the sun’s vitamin D for your bones (because you spent the past weeks sitting and grouching on your work desk) was what made him win the argument. where to, still unknown. but since he’s the one who asked you out, you’re pretty confident he’s prepared for this.
-
“lovie, don’t you feel much better?”
as much as you wanted to disagree, fortunately, unfortunately, he’s right. after a few quick trips to several cafés on a bread and pastry hunt, you spent the remaining time before sunset walking along the pathways of a small trail near the mountains. indeed, you needed the sun so badly that you started running excitedly as soon as you saw the familiar trail. to give more context, this was the trail you and jeonghan often frequented when you just started dating. you remember considering this place as a hideaway when you were still not used to adjusting to each other’s schedules. 2 years later and everything remains the same— from the fresh smell of the leaves from the pine trees brought by the cold winds to the glowing scarlet orange sky. anyone who would come here, stressed or not, would be delighted in a minute.
“yes,” you answered shortly. childishly plucking off some of the dandelions disseminated along the field, then sneezing right after you idiotically attempted to smell them. jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at the behavior. you’re just like a cat.
“someday, i’ll build a house on a place like this. sooo refreshing.”
“wow, really saying that while rubbing your nose off your face? couldn’t be more ironic, love.”
sighing, jeonghan went to your side to gently slap your hands away from your face. he pulled out a handkerchief in his pocket and started using that in an attempt to remove any remaining pollen in your hands. despite your complaining about treating you like a child, he won the argument for the second time on this day.
“ooh, but i do get you, tho. remember that piano scene from crash landing on you? wasn’t that in switzerland? the place looks so chilly and vibrant. maybe we could buy a house there in the future.”
feeling lighthearted, you made a joke, “what, like, you proposin’ to me or somethin’?” while annoyingly raising your brow up and down at him. not quite a common sight, but the faint embarrassed expression he quickly hid behind a grin did not escape your eyes. he playfully swatted your face and stood up.
“who said you’re gonna live with me? i’m just planning to include you in the buying process then i’ll leave you alone here.”
“i’ll secretly write my name as the sole owner then. i’d be so quick you won’t even notice me stealing your pen, asshole.”
your boyfriend laughed again; not because of your silliness but because of the happenstance of what you said. such an irony, truly. he shook his head as he thought.
by the time he was finished having an internal monologue, you were already walking far away from him, still preying on the variety of dandelions scattered wildly at the trail. the previous lassitude on your face is now gone. he eventually caught up to you and stopped you from walking by holding your hand as he pointed the other to the sun that is now in its setting glory. as cliche as it looks like, the day ended with you both being completely entranced by the scene.
unbeknownst to you, somewhere along the streets of lake brienz already lies a home unneeding of your clever plan. you must have forgotten already, he deemed. but it’s still clear as day in his mind how you had mentioned of switzerland before. it’s still a secret though. making sure not to mess up an even bigger surprise he plans on giving you, he grinned again at himself.
jeonghan rarely plans dates, but when he does, it always ends up being more than what your heart can long for.
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preacherboyd · 2 years
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Justified | 1x13 Bulletville
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atyourmerci · 19 days
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I hope your daddy doesn’t own a gun
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Southern dbf!abby
Cw: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, subfem!reader, age gap (r! Is 20, abby is in her 30s), masturbation, phone sex if you squint and turn your head, lil sprinkle of degradation, fingering, voyerism, no y/n, no pdor
A/N: I hate this<3
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They all saw you as a child, still just daddy’s little girl in your pigtails and bloomers. Even at twenty, after ditching the pigtails and swapping the bloomers with mini skirts that let your ass peak out, didn’t deter their perception of innocence.
Your father was a wealthy man, charismatic and giving that drew the people around him in. Most of his friends watched you grow from childhood, through the ugly duckling phase, all the boyfriends, and growth of your now womanly figure. Not that they noticed. Not that you cared- other than her, Abigail, your father’s best friend from college. Abigail went on to work at your father’s company after college and frequented your life from birth.
You couldn’t recall when it shifted, when she went from your father’s best friend to a toy dangled in front of your face, so close yet unattainable. Clean cut, dressed in button ups, khakis, the cowboy boots that peaked through the bottom of them. Her hair neatly tied in a braid.
The only time you’d seen it down was when your dad held a backyard rager you snuck out to watch. Most of the party had dissipated late into the night, but you had spotted Abby and one of the receptionists in your pool. You watched as the pretty receptionist lazily dragged the strands out with her fingers as Abigail worked her mouth around her chest.
Thats when the heat in your chest began for her, watching her control. Seeing how she could have anything she wanted. You wanted her to desire you, need you so badly shed take you there, even with the risk of wondering eyes.
-
This night ended as they all did. At the end of the night you’d get sent to your room so they could smoke cigars and speak of vulgarities that you now were more than aware of. For fucks sake you were in college now, getting tossed around by pitiful girls that still couldn’t make you come. Abby would, you knew it.
You’d touch yourself at night to the thought of her for the past couple of years, she’d know how to take care of your needy cunt. You’d think of yourself in the pool that night, how your fingers would dance through her hair. The scent of musky pine still overwhelming your senses even though her skin was bleached of pool water. How her fingers would feel deep inside you, her hand covering your mouth to quiet you.
Your father would kill her.
“Alright hun, why don’t you head to bed,” your father says after a fit of laughter. Everyone continues the comfort, your eyes dart to Abby, who seems to be the only one privy to your father’s prompt.
“Dad don’t you think i’m too old for that now,” you try not to get defensive but it comes out bitchy. He gives you that stern glare, the ‘don’t make me ask you again’ look and you glance back at Abigail who gives you a pitied pout, “be a good girl, listen to your father.”
You huff out, making a scene and storming off. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, infuriated. Pissed at your father for treating you like a child still, pissed at Abigail for backing him up. Pissed that she looked so good tonight, the way she put her hand on your lower back to pass you, whispering a ‘xcuse’ me darlin’. Maybe it was her goal to work you up just to leave you helpless and begging.
Your window has a shot of the backyard, all your father’s friends laughing over cigars and bourbon. Pissed how she called you a good girl, right in front of your father, everyone, knowing the effect it would have on you.
She wanted to tease you, work you up in front of everyone? Then they should all watch what she did, a careless act on both ends.
Throwing yourself on your warm sheets, pulling up your sundress to reveal your bare cunt. Driving your head back into the sheets as your fingers work at the pulsing flesh, so tense from the slow incline Abby had you on all day. Your fingers slid so easily through your folds, pearly white slick coating your harsh fingers.
Your breath panting and eager, so ready to revel in your own pleasure after being ripped from it. You’re already close, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation as you feel your phone buzz at your side. ‘Abigail Anderson’ illuminates your face, without giving yourself a chance to catch your breath you answer.
“Don’t you dare think of coming,” Abby says sternly. Your face flushes, fuck. You peer your weary eyes at the window next to your body, Abby stands a couple feet away from the men, staring dead at you through the glass.
“Wha-“ you pant out, staring dumbly at the woman that never gave you this extent of her control. Your head drops back down onto your pillow, too embarrassed to admit your shameful actions.
“I didnt tell you to stop, did I sweetheart?” Abby says with smugness in her tone.
“N- no ma’am,” giving into her so easily, running your hand down your body to meet back at your sopping cunt that buzzes at her words. “Good girl… you like that, don’t you?” She says doubling down- so fucking sure of her power over you, your mind, your cunt.
“Yes Abby- yes! please Im so close,” you bite down on your lip for relief, your hole clenches over nothing, fingers eagerly tracing circles around your swollen bud. Any moment you’d break, heels digging into your frilly sheets as your chest soaks with sweat. You hear the line go flat on your phone.
You were too fucked to stop, you were going to let yourself have this. Gripping into the sheets you prepare yourself, legs shaking as your door swings open to Abigail. Your legs wide open for her eyes to feast on, she takes a moment to gawk at the sight before locking the door behind her.
She walks over to the head of your bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she watches you drive lazy motions over your clit. She discards her shirt to the side, revealing her bare chest. Climbing so slowly up to you she places her hand on your sloppy cunt, cupping it as her other hand covers your mouth, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll let you come.”
Wild eyed you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt to collect your release. The smell of pine thick in the air, the sound of her fingers dragging in and out of you the only peep to be heard.
“you think about this all the time don’t you darlin? Turned into a nasty little girl, didn’t ya.” Abby begins to pick up her pace, fingers sliding in so easily. Your eyes roll back, mind going numb.
“Tight little cunt you got, swallowing my fucking fingers,” you try not to scream out, but her unrelenting pace at your hole was getting to be too much. The feeling of spilling over hitting you once again. Your screams are muffled by her meaty hands, but she can feel your pulse around her.
“You gonna come baby?” Abby coos, looking at you pitied and cruel. You shake what motion you still had left in your head.
“Be quiet so your daddy doesn’t hear what a whore his little girl is,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers.
like that you’re set off, squirming under her heat as she fucks your pussy through it, watching you opened mouth panting as your head pushes into your plush pillows. Biting into the flesh of her palm cant block off the guttural scream you let out. She pushes down harder at your mouth but only pushes her fingers deeper. Every last drop she was going to get out of you.
Thats when you hear the ring of a jiggle on your locked doorknob.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Married!reader who's husband's abandoned them and skipped town after borrowing money from Mafia!König
You thought your husband’s love for you was more than his love for money - and you were deadly wrong. Poor, abandoned little thing you are - Konig almost feels pity for you, with the way you were still clinging to her hope that he will come back for you and together, you’ll go about your merry way…of course, life sucks and it’s not what is happening here. Of course, your loser of a husband never knew that the biggest asset he could ever introduce to then debt collectors is his smoking hot beauty of a wife - and you never thought that he will actually abandon you here. Now, standing in your small kitchen, still wearing your adorable pink apron and ring held on a gunpoint by the most notorious cutthroats of the city, you know better. Horangi is the most ell known hitman of KorTac, and he knows the tastes of his boss more than anyone else - maybe, this is why you weren’t just held for ransom in hopes that your husband will come back, but was pushed deeper, held as a pretty toy for the boss. Not that you knew this at the moment.
Konig introduces you to a very few options. You can refuse to be his little bird, throw away all of his good will intentions and be a little bitch - so he wouldn’t feel too bad about killing you. Or, preferably, you can ask him to be soft with you, you can plead him for forgiveness for you and your husband - and he will take you as collateral instead of just fucking and killing you afterwards. You’re a good girl, so, of course, you plead him to be gentle. God, he just doers the sight of you on your knees, your house dress is making the scene look all the more domestic and, dare he say, adorable. He can’t help himself - he kisses you, kisses you like there is no tomorrow, and he is acting like it’s no big deal, either. He gets you up on his lap and this is your earned placed from now on - even when he is busy with meetings and talking to very, very evil people, he will keep you with him as if little lucky charm. Grasping your thigh and laying with the soft flesh every time you wince at the blood or a rude word being thrown around the room. You’re from a good family, after all, you aren’t used to the harsh ways of this business. Good girls are hiding their faces in their husband’s chests as their husband kill the traitors with a soft, tiny promise of doing the same with you if you to ever disobey him. But you’re a smart cookie, so you try your best to forget that this is even happening. You put a smile on your face and act all lovingly and gentle even with his crooks and thugs - they all adore you, always knowing the difference between common whores that boss occasionally has, and you, his prettiest girl.
You would sit beside him in clubs, too - he drags you out with him, mostly to turn down the girls who are chasing him like little fireflies, and also because he wants to have you available for a quick fuck while he is being served drinks. He wants all of you with him on a silver platter - even if for the first few times you are together, he had to press his gun against your temple and threaten to pull the trigger if you won’t be his good girl. You learned to suck him off just right while he is discussing the fate of your husband with you. You learn to just nod to whatever torture he is proposing to your poor hubby and smile when he pets your head and says that he will keep you with him - not just as a collateral anymore, but as a girl that rightfully belongs to him. You don’t want to be referred to as his girl - it there is really isn’t much of a choice. You’re other his girl, receiving expensive gifts and money for just being with him, or you are a wife of a man who has a debt to him - so, you’re a liability, a hostage, a prisoner. At least now, you can pretend to be an actual wife instead of, well…whatever you are, really. Konig bought you a ring and talks about the wedding, but you know it’s just a bluff. You hope it’s just a bluff.
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rafesaddiction · 8 months
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It's not cheating when he’s your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader
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see here for part 2 and here for part 2.5
Summary: Rafe Cameron is the reason why you fought with your boyfriend. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you lost your job. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you moan and whimper shamelessly.
Concept: enemies, hate sex
Warnings: mdni! – smut, hate sex, rough sex, p in v, violence, choking, spitting (on rafe), cursing, name calling (rafe calls reader whore), cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), mean!rafe
Word count: 3.9k
“How about a smile with that, hm?” Rafe Cameron grinned at you as you placed the glass in front of him on the table. Your eyes narrowed and you glared at him, but that smug grin of his only grew wider, and his kook friends sitting at the table with him snickered and watched the scene with amusement.
It was bad enough that you had to work today, not being in the best of moods after a fight with your boyfriend earlier – or more exactly, a fight with your boyfriend and his best friend. But you had to take the evening shift at the Wreck, because your landlord had assured you, he'd kick you out if you were late on the rent again. You needed the money and your cleaning job just didn't pay enough. And usually working at the Wreck was fine. Mike was a fair boss and Anna always had a nice word for you. The tips weren't as generous as at the country club, but the customers were usually much nicer. Well, usually. Not so much tonight.
You had seen – or actually heard them, the moment they had come into the restaurant; the kook prince and his cronies. Not waiting to be seated, they just chose a table and sat down, as if they had a right to do so, as if they were entitled to do anything they wanted. You frowned, when you saw them, having just written down the order from much nicer guests – a tourist couple, who must have been puzzled at your sudden change of attitude. You usually had no problem with keeping a friendly face to customers, or at least look at them in a neutral way, but the moment you saw Rafe Cameron walk in like he owned the place, you just couldn't hide your anger.
And of course, Rafe and his friends had chosen one of your tables. If it hadn't been so busy that night, you might have asked your colleague to swap tables. But as it was, you clenched your teeth and walked over to their table, placing the pitcher with fresh water and glasses on the table, ready to take their order – avoiding looking at them, especially at Rafe.
But his words made you look up from the water jug you held in your hand.
“C’mon, y/n, show us that pretty smile of yours, and I might even give you a nice tip”, the asshole had the audacity to wink at you.
You glared at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. You were fuming. Your hand clenching around the handle of the pitcher. And the blond kook just kept smiling at you his arrogant smile that others might have found charming, which only drove you mad.
So instead of pouring the water into the glasses on the table, you poured the pitcher's whole content onto Rafe Cameron's lap, drenching his expensive pants. – A pity actually that it was only water and not some boiling hot coffee.
Rafe quickly moved back, the chair making a screeching sound on the wooden floor, as he jumped to his feet. Now looking anything but amused, he looked down at himself.
“The fuck?”
And it was your turn to smirk, just a little triumphant smirk, while you glared at him and extended your arm, flipping him the bird, right at his stupid face.
You turned on your heels and walked back to the bar, hearing one of the kook boys say, “dude, she really hates you.” And Rafe replied, “nah, she wants me bad,” which resulted in all of them laughing.
And you growled. You hated those bastards. You hated them so damn much.
Behind the counter, you put down the empty pitcher with a loud thud – even though you felt more like throwing that thing at Rafe.
You tried to compose yourself, you really did, but, of course, Mike had seen what happened. And instead of being on your side and kicking those arrogant kooks out, he came at you, told you to go and apologize.
“I won’t! He’s a fucking asshole, acting like he owns half the island!” You glared at your boss.
“Well, his father does,” Mike said, “now go and apologize and tell him, whatever they order is on the house.”
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at Mike as if he was talking in a different language.
“You apologize or you can leave. For good.” The features on the man's face had become stern.
You should do the reasonable thing, you needed this job. But your temper got the best of you. You were so angry, so damn furious, and Mike taking their side was just too much to take. You literally had enough.
“Screw you,” you snapped, crumpled the cloth you used for cleaning tables and threw it at Mike.
He frowned at you and pointed at the door.
And you walked out, walked out of that damn restaurant in which those fucking kooks were surely laughing at the scene they just witnessed. You were a joke to them. You pogues always were nothing more than a joke to them. It made you furious.
Outside you kicked a random car parked in front of the restaurant, wishing it was Rafe's – but it looked more like some old folks' family car than anything Rafe would drive.
“Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all,” you cursed, and your foot hurt, but you kept on walking, stomping actually, blinking angry tears away.
You just had lost your job because of Rafe-fucking-Cameron! The same guy that had been the reason for your fight with your boyfriend earlier that day.
You hated that guy. You had always hated Rafe, but now you hated him more than ever.
This morning, on his usual delivery run for Heyward, your boyfriend had been jumped by Rafe and one of his friends. And they had beaten him up so bad, he had gotten home with a limp, his left eye swollen, his nose bleeding. Seeing him like that hurt so much, you almost cried. His best friend, who was there with you, looked at your boyfriend shocked, and worried, before his quick temper took over. That boy was always short-tempered and would rather act than think. He was furious. While you were attending your boyfriend's wounds, his best friend was pacing the small place, raising his fists, clenching them, rambling on about how he would make Rafe pay for that. He also seemed mad at himself for not having been there for his best friend, not having been able to defend him. So he was more determined now to make it right, as he called it.
He swore revenge and was forming a plan. Usually, they would just try and fight Rafe and his friends at the next opportunity. But this seemed different. And your boyfriend seemed to be hurt more than just by the wounds you could see. You weren't sure, but you had a feeling that something else must have happened with Rafe, something more serious, something hurting not just his body, but his pride too. Because otherwise, your boyfriend would have never agreed to the stupid plan his best friend came up with. Stealing Rafe's dirt bike and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. It wasn't even a real plan, it was just stupid.
“He'll know that it was you! And he'll have you arrested for it.”
“So what?”
“So what? You can go to jail! Don't be so dumb! You can both go to jail for this and you'll ruin your future just because of some stupid fight!” You yelled at your boyfriend's best friend, but there was no reasoning with him.
But what was worse, your own boyfriend didn't want to see that you were right. He was so infuriated. He had jumped to his feet and was ready to take Rafe and any cop. And he wanted to hurt him, hurt him so bad.
When you tried to talk to him, tried to calm him down, tried to make him see reason, he just shoved you away, and he suddenly seemed angry at you, accusing you of not understanding him. And his best friend accused you of not caring about your own boyfriend. And that fucking hurt. The two of them had always been close, very close, and you sometimes felt a pang of jealousy, because even though you were his girlfriend, it seemed as if there was some part of him you would never fully get.
So you had left the two of them planning their revenge, coming up with some stupid plan that would not make anything right that had been done to your boyfriend or to any of you pogues.
And the thought of that made you furious right now.
You balled your hands into fists, clenching so hard, you felt your nails digging into your palms.
You hadn't paid attention to where you were going when you had stormed out of the Wreck and you had been walking for some time now, anger driving you onwards, as you found yourself close to the Cameron's pier.
Rage was clouding your judgement, but you knew you had to do something, anything. It just couldn't go on like this. Rafe Cameron hurting everyone and destroying everything and just getting away with it.
You didn't have a plan what to do when you broke into the shack where they stored boat stuff and other things. It wasn't the first time you had broken into somewhere, but it was the first time you were on your own. Usually the other pogues would be with you. But you could do this on your own. And you did care about your boyfriend, no matter what his best friend said. You were a pogue just like them.
Inside it was dark and you had to feel your way round, careful not to bump into anything. You used your phone's flashlight to see, but you weren't really sure what you were looking for. Maybe you could find boat keys and take his boat? Stupid plan, but whatever. You had to do something, anything. Goddamn, you hated that guy.
“Anything I can help you with?”
You froze when you heard that dark voice. The lights had suddenly turned on, blinding you for a second. You blinked and saw him. Fuck. Rafe Cameron standing at the door, blocking the only exit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked right at you.
“What you doing here?” You couldn't help but ask, even though you knew it was a dumb question, but you were genuinely puzzled. He had just been at the Wreck with his friends – getting you fired – and now he was here of all places?
“This is MY property. What the hell are you doing here?”
Fuck, he was right. You wouldn't admit it, but he had a point. And suddenly you were questioning your own reason. It was such a stupid idea, breaking in here. All you wanted now was to get out, get away as fast as possible before Rafe would call the cops. So instead of answering, you darted for the exit as he moved a few steps into the room. But he was quicker, stepped to the side, so you almost crashed right into him.
He caught you, his big hand wrapping around your arm. You flinched at how tight his grip was.
“Fuck, let me go!” You tried to wriggle out of his grip, and hit his chest with your free hand.
Rafe grabbed your other arm too, pulling you closer to his much larger body.
“Let go, asshole!” You yelled at him, not giving up your fighting yet, though it seemed impossible to free yourself from his grip.
“Won't do. You broke into my property and stole something from me.” He glared down at you, his eyes narrowed – the blue in them reminded you of the sky on the day before the hurricane hit the island a few weeks ago.
“I didn't take anything!” Your voice strained and you were panting from your struggling.
He raised his eyebrows as he glared at you.
“A liar and a thief. I'll check for myself what you took.”
He let go off one of your arms, just to use his free hand to grip your waist, pulling you against his body, his broad chest pressing against your upper body, so close, you could hardly move your free arm between the bodies.
But his hand didn't rest, he was touching, grabbing, tugging, actually patting you down.
His large hand found your ass and that intimate touch caused a different kind of sensation. Something much hotter.
You wriggled in his arms, making your bodies only rub harder against each other.
“Fuck, let go!” You hissed, as breathing became harder.
You tried to kick him, but couldn't really lift your leg, you were too close to his overpowering body.
“Fucking asshole!” You spat at him.
And Rafe's hand gripped your jaws, so hard, you winced. Your mouth opening as you gasped.
Instead of tasting the air, you felt his lips crushing down on yours as he had suddenly closed the space and was kissing you, kissing you fiercely and hard.
Your eyes fluttered close. For a moment you were completely taken aback, overwhelmed by this unexpected intimate touch, a kiss so fierce and rough you had never tasted before.
It only lasted a second, and you pushed him away, pushed yourself away from him enough, so you could move your arm, and you smacked his cheek so hard, his head whipped to the side.
Obviously surprising him, he let go off you, rubbing his cheek, and looking at you as if in disbelief. His mouth opened, those lips you had just felt on yours.
And you stood there two steps away, chest heaving, panting, glaring, fuming, feeling that tingling on your lips, feeling that throbbing pain from his touch on your arms, feeling his presence so strongly, feeling this incredible heat in your own body, something hotter than rage coursing through your veins, feeling that sudden pull.
You lunged forward, and he just gazed at you, and your hands gripped around his neck as you pulled yourself up, legs wrapping around his waist, and your mouth meeting his in an angry kiss.
Rafe reacted in an instant, kissing you back, even fiercer than before. It felt like he was devouring you. And you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, as you rocked your hips against his. But the friction you caused with your fervent movements wasn't enough to make that throbbing between your legs stop. Both his hands grabbed your ass, gripped it like it was something that belonged to him, only to him. It made you furious, and clenching with need.
Your hands grabbed his hair, pulling at it. He growled in response, right into your open mouth. Pushing his tongue in, he claimed that too.
The heels of your feet dug into his back, as you pulled yourself closer to him. Feeling his hard cock pressing against you made you mutter the most embarrassing sounds, hardly muffled by his greedy kiss.
Suddenly he moved and you felt how your ass hit something.
The kiss broke and you hissed as you found yourself on a workbench, cluttered with all kinds of tools, which Rafe shoved away with his arm, making them clatter on the floor, before setting you down on the surface.
You braced yourself with your elbows on the bench, looking up at Rafe, who impatiently tugged down your shorts and panties. Your sandals dropped to the floor as well.
You tried to get up and grab his shirt to pull it off of him, but he pushed you back down on the bench, making you flinch at his roughness and at the same time you felt your legs opening for him, as you saw him take that shirt off himself. You couldn't help but gaze at his muscles. His body was so well-shaped, it was ridiculous how he could be real.
Your attention was directed further down, as you heard him unzip his pants.
You were only able to catch a glimpse of his cock, but it was enough to make you gasp – he was huge – before he pushed into you.
The sudden pain made you cry out. Your eyes going back into your head as you felt so incredibly full. You didn't even try to suppress your shameless moans as he ruthlessly thrust into you. Your walls clamping, the feeling became so intense, your body was shivering while you were burning up.
You heard Rafe's animalistic growl and that sound drove your own lust even further.
His hand at the back of your neck, he pulled you up, his lips hovering over yours, his hot breath mingling with yours.
Rafe pulled you closer, and as he fucked you, your ass was pressed against the edge of the bench, surely leaving bruises.
But you left bruises and marks on his body too. Your hands grabbing, your nails scratching his back. When he kissed you, you bit him, feeling how he tensed up and go harder on you. You felt your climax approaching, felt your body burning up with need, clenching so hard around him.
And he must have felt it too, because you could sense something shift. But instead of giving you what you wanted, giving you what your body so desperately needed, he grinned into the messy kiss and suddenly pulled out. You gazed at him, your face flushed, your lips sore from those biting kisses, and you were so surprised that it was easy for him to unwrap himself off your legs.
Your naked feet touched the cold floor and you could hardly stand. But you didn't have too.
Before you could question what the hell he was doing, he grabbed you, turned you around and bent you over the workbench.
You exhaled an angry breath and your hands clawed at the surface of the bench, while he turned your head sideways and pressed down on it, your cheek on the rough wood. You tried to look up at him, but couldn't move your head to see properly. But you didn't need to see what he was doing, you could feel it a few seconds later.
Your legs were spread and a rough hand rubbed between them. You were soaking wet. You had been wet from the moment his lips had claimed yours. You had no time to get annoyed at how that must have amused him, because the next moment, he was taking your breath away as his thick cock thrust into you. Harder and deeper now. You wouldn't have believed that to be possible, but he was fucking you now with even more of that rough and ruthless vigor. He was quite literally using you, as his cock was hammering into you. Your body trembled and shuddered and you moaned and whimpered and you were so far gone.
Rafe took you as if you were his, as if he could use you as he pleased – and you wanted nothing else than to be used by him in that moment.
Your walls clenching so hard around him, you felt fuller than possible.
But despite being at his mercy, despite having turned into his fucktoy, despite your traitorous body enjoying being used like that, you couldn't help yourself.
One hand reached back, touching his hip.
“Harder,” you urged him, panting. “Harder,” you repeated, breathlessly, as if you didn't already feel like you might pass out any minute, because it was too much, because your body couldn't possible take anymore.
He growled. And the sound made you shudder.
And you almost regretted your words, but at the same time, you felt your clit throbbing, your whole body buzzing with a need you had never felt before.
His arm wrapped around your neck from behind and he pulled you up, pulled you up standing on your toes, your back arching. The back of your head against his shoulder. His arm pressed against your throat, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. You could only whine as he slammed into from behind. Your fingernails digging into his arm's hard muscle, while your eyes fluttered shut.
You lost it all, all sense of reason and self control, as he fucked you through your earth-shattering orgasm. Fucked you relentlessly. Fucked you without restrained. Fucked you into oblivion.
You were undone and he kept going. Taking you without mercy, using you. And when he gasped and you felt him push so deep inside you, hitting a spot yet untouched, another wave rolled over you. You hadn't felt it building up, but it was like your body was synced with his, and the moment he came inside you, spilling his load deep into you, your walls clenched around him, as if trying to hold him there, and you came, harder this time, with him.
When he pulled out and let go off you, you just collapsed forward onto the workbench. Coughing, finally able to breathe, you tried to regain your senses.
Your legs were trembling and you could already feel his cum dripping out of you, running down your thigh.
You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or open, as you still just saw stars dancing in front of your eyes.
The sound of a low chuckle behind you made you finally able to return to reality – and realize your exposed position, bent over the workbench, your legs spread, your ass up, cum dripping out of your throbbing pussy.
You groaned as you pushed yourself up and turned. Every fucking muscle in your body hurt. You knew you would be sore for days. And when you caught that smirk on Rafe's face as he put on his shirt watching you with that glint in his eyes, you knew he was thinking the same.
You smoothed your rumpled top, crouched down to pick up your shorts. Somehow you couldn't find your panties between all those tools scattered on the floor, so you pulled on your shorts without panties. You flinched at the friction the rough fabric caused. You'd definitely be sore for days.
Frowning, you slipped into your sandals.
Your eyes moved over to Rafe. He was fully dressed and despite his somewhat heavy breathing and the sweat glistening on his forehead, he seemed all composed as he was leaning against another workbench opposite of you, just a few feet away. His hair a mess though, you noted with a certain kind of satisfaction.
A smirk danced around his lips as he watched you trying to comb your own hair with your fingers.
“What?” You frowned at him.
He shrugged, pushed himself off the bench and slowly came closer.
“Just realized, it's true what they say.”
Your frown deepened as you glared at him questioningly.
“The filthiest whores come from the Cut.”
You spat right at his face.
“Fucking asshole,” you hissed and turned to leave. From the corner of your eyes you could see how he wiped away your spit from his cheek, and looked at it, chuckling in amusement.
You didn't turn when you walked through the door. You tried not to show it, but each step hurt like hell. And what was worse, your core was aching with need.
a/n: thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments, reblogs, likes, and any kind of feedback are very welcome. You may also have a guess who the reader's boyfriend might be. And his best friend...
This is the start of a concept series of oneshots.
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queerpumpkinnn · 10 months
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You Snooze You Lose
3.9k words
Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)
Warnings: piercedtongue!Eddie, softdom!Eddie, mention of reader having an awkward date, alcohol (both consume but they're not drunk), Eddie refers to reader as princess/pretty and reader is afab but pronouns and clothing style is up for interpretation, Eddie picks up reader, thigh riding, choking, brief weed mention, fingering, oral sex, singular biblical reference?? (not counting someone saying 'oh god' or something of the like, kinda vague i think it'll probably go over a lot of people's heads), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (eddie receiving), mentions of voyeurism, reader begs a lot a lot a lot, unprotected sex and creampie (this is fiction, wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, panty sniffing and stealing, scratching (eddie receiving), Eddie's mouth (however you're interpreting this the answer is yes), heaps of praise, sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, Eddie is a pleasure dom through and through, let me know if I missed anything
While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.
You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.
A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.
"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."
You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"
"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."
There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.
As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.
You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.
"Kid? Y'alright?"
There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.
"Yeah, sorry."
"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"
You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."
"Assuming it didn't go well?"
"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."
Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"
"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.
Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.
"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.
"Aw, you worry about me?"
“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"
You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.
Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."
"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."
Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"
"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."
Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"
"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."
Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."
Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.
"Could you?"
Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.
"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."
"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"
Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.
You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.
Then your mouth moved of its own accord.
"Show me."
Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.
"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"
Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.
"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"
"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.
You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.
"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.
"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.
"Hm?"
"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.
"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."
"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.
"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.
"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."
Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.
"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"
You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.
Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.
"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.
Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.
"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.
"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.
Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.
"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.
"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.
Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.
It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.
But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.
Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.
But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.
"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.
"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.
"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.
"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.
"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."
Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.
You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"
"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.
As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.
"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.
"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"
You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.
Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."
You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.
"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.
"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.
"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.
The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.
"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.
"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.
And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.
"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.
"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.
You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.
"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"
Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.
"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.
And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.
"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"
Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.
"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.
"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"
Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.
"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.
His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.
"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.
"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.
You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.
"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"
"Uh huh."
Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."
"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."
Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."
Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.
You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.
Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.
"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.
"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.
You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.
A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"
Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.
Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.
~
Eddie Munson Masterlist
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agendabymooner · 6 months
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SOMETHING ANGELIC !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: she was so sweet but her ex should've known better than keeping her his dirty little secret. OR it was wrong to lust after her ex's teammate but charles leclerc was willing to give her everything.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, tbh there's barely smut in there but charles is nasty as fuck so 🙃, ex!carlos sainz x pr manager!reader, hint of corruption kink (not really), p in v, unprotected sex (plz use protection), lowkey possessive!charles, i barely understand what i wrote tbh
note: i only post a lot of charles when he's a dad to the leclerc boys but god did i have some filthy thoughts about him tonight. enjoy xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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it was wrong to lust for your ex’s teammate, but charles leclerc was determined to make her his and he made sure that she knew that.
a whole winter break was enough to move on, right? right. charles couldn’t give much shit about the time limit for a person to move on from their ex. 
not when he saw her throughout the first race week as she took long strides while she followed esteban ocon for the french driver’s media duties. charles used to see her in the ferrari area — being carlos’ sweet secret girlfriend and public relations manager. 
how carlos had managed to get away from his crimes of being seen with another woman in public while fucking his manager behind the scenes was something that charles would never understand— but the monégasque pitied the sweet woman for having to see her boyfriend play tonsil hockey with someone else.
she was angelic, having to put up with that kind of thing. and all charles wanted to do was to make her his— to somehow make her realize that she was worth more than what carlos had recognized her for. 
his green eyes nearly darkened when he saw her, sitting alone at the booth that the alpine drivers occupied for the night with a sad expression on her pretty face. four months of break away from carlos and she was still affected by the break up that occurred half a year ago. 
and her sadness was quickly swept aside when she saw charles taking a stride towards her direction, scooting over instinctively as the ferrari driver offered her a grateful smile and sat next to her. 
“i haven’t seen you for a while,” charles told her with a smile, “pierre was incredibly foul for not inviting you to any of our functions during the break.”
“ah- yeah,” she let out an apologetic smile, “i’ve been trying to adjust to my new place in nice. i figured if i was going to be working for alpine, i might as well live in france.”
“oh you moved? trés bonne,” charles nodded, earning a sheepish smile from her. he nearly melted at the sweetness on her reaction. god she was so fucking perfect. 
“it’s such a shame i don’t get to see you in the office anymore, though,” he shrugged. “ferrari lost an asset.” 
she snorted quietly, “hm, fred even said so. but you know— people come and go.” 
“it’s such a pitiful thing, though,” charles said, looking at her while they both drank, “you should’ve been my manager— you’d do more good with me.” 
“you’re right,” she drawled, now staring at his eyes as she playfully said, “you wouldn’t fuck me and i wouldn’t get emotionally attached.”
as if they were both in another universe, charles then chuckled darkly and boldly claimed, “i mean... i still would’ve fucked you— i just wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you go and treat you like a dirty little secret.” 
she saw how his pupils darkened as he spoke, feeling her legs absentmindedly closing and squirming. as if the floodgates had opened and arousal had gotten the best of her. 
“nobody knew about you and sainz but me, right? the amount of times i’ve had to turn a blind eye was insane— i almost thought i’d have to intervene because it was compromising his media duties,” charles admitted, “i wondered what kept you from getting him to move and do his job— it turns out he’s just fucking you in his motorhome. i’ve had to tell the social media manager that he’s just woken up from a nap.”
“he pretended that you’re not even worth the attention after his races because you’ve always been second best to him,” charles tutted.
she huffed, “there’s no need to rub it on my face—“
“—oh no, mon tresor, i’m not being a dickhead about it,” charles shook his head, placing his drink down on the table. 
the lights in the club were nothing but colourful strobes that didn’t even spot them, making it easier for him to get closer without anyone noticing and interrupting them. 
his breath fanned her ear as he whispered huskily, “i wouldn’t allow him to make you see yourself as second best, mon ange.”
“charles—“ she let out a breathless sigh, feeling his mouth leave open mouthed kisses on her skin. “this is so wron—“
“nothing’s wrong with this when we don’t work anymore, mon tresor,” he murmured. “there’s nothing more wrong than allowing your sweetness to get in the way of the things you so deserve.” 
“and you know how to show me the things i deserve?” she asked, almost innocently. god, was he about to cream in his pants if she continued to say shit like this. 
“you can demand the world and i’ll give you the universe,” charles watched her accept his offer as he smiled widely.
it was so wrong to lust after her ex’s teammate, but if charles leclerc was willing to give her everything then who was she to reject the offer? the monégasque was telling her to be greedy, and this was the best way to do it. 
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she felt too overwhelmed. whether it was because of how charles treated her body or how he spoke so dirtily— she wasn’t sure. 
her mind was on an overdrive. all she could think about was him. his godlike figure, his prettiest eyes and his thick cock that continued to pound inside her cunt. 
she almost shook at his tone as he groaned delightfully right by her ear, “mon dieu, chéri, tu te sens si divin.” my god, darling, you feel so divine.
charles helped her prop herself up back on her knees as his hand guided her eyes towards the mirror in front of them, watching her eyes glistening as much as her cunt did in pleasure.
he then murmured, “do you see yourself, sweetheart? you look so pretty.”
she couldn’t even find herself to look when all she’s thinking about was the cock that stuffed her from behind, a strangled whine escaping her throat as she urged him to move. 
“i wish carlos was here to see this,” he chuckled deeply, his fingers pinching her hardened nipple before trailing down her clit to stimulate her even more. she let out a loud whimper, now feeling overwhelmed by his words and his actions as he fucked her once more. “so he knows not to treat you like you’re not worth bragging about.” 
“but i guess he had a reason to keep you a secret, hm?” he taunted her, rocking his hips against her as he bottomed out inside her. “because he knew that once you’re out in the world you’d be corrupted by some men. he was so selfish that he thought his sweet innocent girlfriend shouldn’t be corrupted by anyone but him.” 
“oh how wrong he was,” charles moaned, his thrusts turning rough and fast as he growled. “you know you deserve better than being a dirty little secret, no?” he tapped her face lightly with his palm as he said, “answer me, mon ange.”
“o- oh- yes,” she cried out, “yes, yes—“
“i can give you everything, mon tresor,” he murmured, “everything that he couldn’t give you.” 
“fuck, charles! please,” she mewled, looking behind her with pleading eyes as she begged desperately, “want to cum again, charles please~”
“gonna cum in this pussy of yours, mon ange—“
“please, cum inside me,” she moaned aloud, her desperation echoing around the suite as well as the skins slapping against each other. “please pleaseeee~ just wan’ to cum. god! feel so full, fuck!”
“gonna cum inside you, and make you mine,” he growled quietly, nibbling on her skin as she whined and mewled. her walls clenched at the thought as he chuckled, “oh? you want that, hm? you want me to make this pussy mine?” 
“yes! fuck-“ she exclaimed, her body convulsing while she whined, “want you to own me, charles. wanna be stuffed full by you only, charles please~”
“you could’ve asked me a long time ago, mon tresor,” his thrusts turned hard and slower as he came inside her, feeling her clench around his cock as they reached their highs. 
she was too fucked out and full, content at the feeling of his cock inside of her while feeling nothing but happiness being in his arms. 
charles couldn’t help but grin widely at the sight of her limped body and the dazed expression on her face. he couldn’t find himself to think about his teammate when this sweet woman was finally his.
he knew that he could do so much better treating her like a queen that she was than carlos would ever do. 
everything that her ex never gave her— charles would be more than willing to hand it to her on a gold plate.
the next morning, charles found carlos at the hotel lobby as they were both heading to the airport. the two ferrari drivers got to speak to one another before pierre gasly and esteban ocon saw them and talked amongst themselves.
carlos sainz sure was the kind to be confused and puzzled, and he showed this when esteban’s manager — who was once carlos’ girlfriend and manager — approached the group and talked to the drivers before turning to charles with a sweet smile. 
“are you going to go now, mon ange?” charles asked with a smile, watching her blush at the attention she got from him as she nodded meekly. “you could just come with us, you know? we’re heading to the same place, anyway.”
“yeah but,” she gestured to the two alpine drivers, “someone has to control these two before the next race week starts.” 
the alpine drivers protested against her words as she and charles giggled. charles then looked at her and said, “okay well… text me when you get there, okay?” 
she nodded and gave charles a sheepish smile (as if she hadn’t found herself saying the filthiest words to him the night before; not that carlos knew). 
charles wrapped his arms around her before kissing her passionately, humming at the taste of her. pierre let out a whistle and esteban grinned at the two toothily. 
while carlos… carlos was just confused as fuck. 
“see you tomorrow, pretty girl,” charles winked at her, smirk playfully written on his face as she giggled quietly and left with the two alpine drivers. 
charles found carlos staring at him with his mouth slightly agape, making the monegasque chuckle and shake his head. “she’s so sweet and pretty, no?” 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico
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misserabella · 24 days
Text
two geniuses (don’t get along)
enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!
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masterlist!
note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))
synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.
cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!
“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.
“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.
“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.
“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.
“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.
“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.
“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.
“you’re very welcome, agent.”
“it’s doctor.”
“yeah, yeah. whatever.”
spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.
you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.
it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…
well, anyways. you were losing focus.
so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.
hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.
“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.
“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.
“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.
“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”
“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.
hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”
“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”
“a free weekend.”
“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”
-
“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”
“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.
“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.
“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.
“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.
“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”
“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.
“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”
spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”
“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.
“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.
“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.
“real funny.”
you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.
“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.
“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.
“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.
“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.
it’s only a matter of time.
“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.
lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.
“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.
later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.
“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.
“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.
“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.
“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.
“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.
“excuse me.”
“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.
“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”
“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.
“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.
“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.
“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.
“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.
“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”
spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.
the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…
“it makes me feel alone.”
-
“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.
“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.
“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.
“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.
“oh, shut up.”
“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.
“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.
you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.
“free weekend? what are you talking about?”
“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.
“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”
“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.
your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.
“everything alright?” jason asks.
“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”
“very romantic.” you mutter.
“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.
“absolutely.”
you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.
“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.
“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”
“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.
“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.
“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”
“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.
“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”
“spencer!”
-
“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.
“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.
you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”
“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.
“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.
“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.
“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”
“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.
“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.
“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”
“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.
“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”
“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”
“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.
“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.
“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”
“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.
“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.
“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.
“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”
-
the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.
and everybody is watching.
just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.
after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.
you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.
“who’s that?” you question prentiss.
“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”
“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”
“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.
“maybe…” then, jj appears.
“what are you guys talking about?”
“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.
“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”
“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.
“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.
“what?”
“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.
“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”
“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.
“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.
“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”
morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.
“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.
“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.
“oh shit.” emily cursed.
“does lila know?” jj asked.
they shook their head.
“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.
“well at least she has spencer, right?”
“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.
“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.
“okay… but the kid has game.”
-
“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.
how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.
“i rent it.” the girl smiled.
“nice.” he nodded.
“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.
“i’m unlisted.”
“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.
“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.
“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.
“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”
“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”
you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.
“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.
you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“feel anything yet?” you asked him.
“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.
“like lila?”
he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.
“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.
“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.
“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.
you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.
your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.
“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.
“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.
you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.
“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.
“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.
“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.
“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”
“no, you didn’t.” lila said.
“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”
“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.
“what?” maggie incredulously said.
“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.
and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.
“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.
“i gave her everything…”
you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.
“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”
-
“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.
“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.
“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.
“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.
“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.
“thanks.” you responded.
“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.
they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.
“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”
“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.
you liking spencer? no way.
if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.
-
a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭
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hiiie · 1 year
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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !!
𓆩♡𓆪 summary - how they hold you while getting intimate
𓆩♡𓆪 characters - Kaeya, Alhaitham, Kaveh x fem reader
𓆩♡𓆪 warnings - we're doing it raw today guys, creampie, teasing, degrading, mirror fucking, kaveh gobbling up yr pussy
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✧ ALHAITHAM ✧
Another mean one, he always has his ways with you, it’s frustrating really, to have him dominate you, push your face into the silky sheets on his bed, bully his way inside your gooey cunt, degrading you until you’re sobbing, all while holding your hands tenderly
His balls slapping against your ass so harsh making sounds echo through his room, you almost felt pity for his roommate until that one particular thrust pulling your thoughts back to him, making your back arched in an inhumane way, you’re so sure that you wouldn’t make it through tonight without snapping your spine in half
“Tell me…do you want me to cum inside hmm dear?”
“Aah-! Please!” His hand applying pressure on your abdomen with a shit eating smirk on his face, knowing full well you love it when he does that, when his eyes met yours his breath got caught up in his throat
His deep green eyes bore into your glassy teary ones, you can’t help but look down where both of you were connected, a combination of your cum and his making a mess, his fingers now toying with your pussy
“Cum with me then”
It was like magic, his words had a heavy impact on you, he leaned down kissing your cheek so sweetly that you could’ve melted on the spot, you came alongside him, strings of his warm fluid painting your insides white, some of your combined liquids flow out your gaping hole as he pulled out
✧KAEYA✧
Holding your waist with one of his hand and the other on your thigh, drawing spreading it wider for him to access and admire his prized jewel. His thrusts are getting quicker, sharper, his hips banging against your puffy clit so hard it made your eyes roll to the back of your head making you see stars, mouth agape but alas no words came out of it, you let out a breathy moan of his name.
It was as if he actually fucked you dumb and turned you into his mindless cumdump
“How adorable” he leaned close beside your ear, cradling your chin between his pointer finger and thumb “Does my cock actually feel that good huh..” his breath makes you tingle
He pulled away, admiring his latest artwork, he his hand leaves your waist and presses down on the bites he made on your collarbone, “N—ngh” earning an annoyed whine from you
“Tsk what a spoiled brat”
He stopped his thrusts completely before pulling his cock out of your pussy, he left you alone, all messy and wanting more
Sure you can call him a bastard and other mean names but he’s the only who could make you cum right now but he's capable of refraining himself from touching you unless you get on your knees and beg for him
Oh— don’t expect him to be gentle either.
✧KAVEH✧
A mirror placed in front of you, on it reflects a pornographic scene of you getting fucked by your lover, not in a brutal way, no no kaveh would never
Oh he’s just so soft, so gentle and so patient with you, he holds you in the most loving way possible, his arms around your waist protectively helping you bounce on his cock, hands lingering everywhere on your body but your pussy, mumbling sweet I love yous into your ear, you can hear every little sounds that escapes through his pretty lips
The loud groan when you ‘accidentally’ tighten around him whist his cock brushes against your cervix, directly sending tingles down your spine, giving you goosebumps
He licks a stripe down your jawline to your shoulder, then proceeds to suck and nibble on it, leaving evident bite marks, marking his property
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the lewd scene in the mirror, because you know that he’s looking right at you like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He’s mumbling praises, even adding words you didn’t knew existed until now, worshipping your body like he’s your devoted little believer, your moans sound so heavenly so angelic to him
His grip on your waist getting tighter as he gets closer to sweet release, peppering gentle kisses on your skin, you'll think this is over? nahh its just the appetizer— he hasn't even got to the main course yet, are you that cruel to let him starve and not allow him to eat you out?
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selarina · 9 months
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Gojo Satoru who’s working undercover at a florist shop. He doesn’t know much about flowers, but he hardly thinks it matters, for this obscure florist shop had remained unvisited since he got here a week ago.
It’s nestled in a quaint corner in the city, hardly noticeable — its inconspicuousness being its very shield as it conveniently found itself in the direct eye line to the building he was assigned to watch.
He thinks Yaga might have sent him here out of spite really, but also he thinks that anything could happen, and he would hate it if he was right so he played his part, if only to thwart the satisfaction of Yaga's potential correctness.
And to really hone it in, it starts raining, the clamorous beats of the rain runs on the roof akin to a cascade of hard stones, ensuring that no soul would venture in at such an hour.
Then, like a shifting scene in a play, the bell above the door chimes, and you enter. You flit through with a slew of apologies about your wetness and the rain. And frankly, you’re really pretty so he couldn't care less about the clean-up.
"Uh," he cleared his throat, a practiced smile forming, one he knew appealed to many. "Hey," he says, threading a casualness into his tone.
"Hi," you reply, gracious in demeanour as you offer a nod to your accompanying greeting.
You bend down, carefully balancing your closed umbrella against the door's ingress, before your eyes start wandering, scanning the shop as you advanced toward the counter.
"How can I help you?" Gojo inquires, upholding the same practiced smile, despite his unfamiliarity with the florist's etiquette.
"Right. Um — I need some roses,” you say, mirroring a smile — courteous and formal. His discerning eye catches a wave of shiver that passes through you. He wishes to offer a coat or warmth of any kind but it remains unfulfilled; he had nothing.
“Of course! Any preference in—" And then his eyes flit to the rose section — stashed with only red today. "Color...?" he concludes, somewhat disjointedly.
Amusement twinkles in your eyes, as they come to meet his. "Well, red, I suppose?"
"Red it is!" he quips, moving with haste as he rushes to get them. He reaches for a fist full of the bunch, promptly placing them on the counter before him.
He catches you staring at the other flowers as he works, your drenched appearance only seemed to amplify how pretty you seem to look.
He smiles, as he talks again, breaking the silence, “So who are these roses for? Parents? Sister? Grandmother — Aw, she's not sick, is she?” He frowns, with a look of pity and you stare back with your eye brows raised — concerned and cautious.
As your silence persisted, he made another attempt. “Um, or are they for a friend?”
An internal chant commenced — Please don’t say boyfriend. Please don’t say girlfriend. Please don’t mention a partner. Please. Please. Please — but he knows he’ll do nothing of it. It’s odd, really. This senseless chase of his.
"Actually," you say, your tone finding a precarious balance as you squint in response. "They're for my boyfriend."
“I hope he dies,” the mutter that leaves his mouth is immediate, and shocking even to him.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" you blurted.
Acting swiftly, he retraced his words with fluidity, “I hope he likes... the flowers,” he recants, like the liar he is.
A pregnant pause ensues, a silence ripe with tension.
"Right. Thanks," you managed, your mask of politeness only slightly marred by the odd exchange.
"For valentine's day, ah? Perfect choice," he quips again, with a smile as fake as his enthusiasm.
You don't know what it is that prompts you to speak up but you do. "More of an apology, actually," your tone softening as the confession escaped your mouth.
He responded with a mere hum, as his attention resumed its focus on the flowers before him.
A few beats pass.
"Should you really be working here this late?" you ask casually, your gaze assessing the store for another person, a mentor perhaps. "You seem young."
"Well, you're young too," he retorted. "Should you be out here at this hour?"
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. "Nah, Mom's going to kill me, but young love and all that. Sacrifices must be made."
Something twinges inside him — will he ever experience this? Young love? Does he even want to?
"Well, I hope this guy appreciates the gesture if you're going through all this trouble," he adds.
"Yeah, fingers crossed." Your chuckles fluttered after your words nervously.
His fingers reached for satin ribbons, his hands moving deftly, crafting delicate arcs to bind the bouquet tightly.
He held his hand out to you with the bouquet now, wrapped in a simple gossamer wrap, "Well, here you go. I hope they do the trick."
"Thank you," you responded, reaching for your purse. "How much do I owe you?"
"Just a moment," he finally says, disappearing into the back of the shop. He returns with a small card, slipping it into the bouquet with practiced ease. "Here you go."
"Thanks again," your smile was a touch more authentic than the first time.
He smiles, and waves you a little goodbye as you make your way out after paying him. The rain seems to be cleared out and you start making the trek down to your boyfriend's place. And as you walk, there's something within you that nags and nags and urges you to do it.
You pick up the card placed inside the bouquet by the peculiar man you just encountered.
You turn it over, and you notice flowery calligraphy presenting a number, alongside a message: "In case your boyfriend doesn't appreciate the roses. Call me :P"
You could only laugh out loud, like a madman on the street. The sheer audacity of it all.
However, you don't seem to realise how you end up pocketing the card instead of throwing it out at the nearest bin.
Part 2
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boldlyvoid · 11 months
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Falling For You.
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[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.
warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.
word count: 2.4k
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It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.
Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some. 
The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope. 
“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her. 
“Really?” 
He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on. 
The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it. 
“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one. 
He nods, “a few.” 
“anyone good?” 
He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.” 
She looks puzzled? “What?” 
“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers. 
“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?” 
“I think so…” 
“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more. 
“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” 
She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever. 
Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away. 
After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can. 
The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail. 
“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” 
She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them. 
“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.” 
“That they do,” he agrees. 
He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over. 
His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.
He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.
He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history. 
“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house. 
“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.” 
You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to. 
Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss. 
Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart. 
Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad… 
Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that. 
Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed. 
She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut. 
“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?” 
She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.” 
“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?” 
“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.
“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.” 
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses. 
They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one. 
— 
On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies. 
He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York. 
When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 
She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.” 
“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that. 
“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!” 
“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off. 
Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…” 
“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?” 
“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.” 
“Okay,” they drop it there. 
Thankfully. 
And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her. 
Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message. 
“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.” 
She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal. 
“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?” 
“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.” 
“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer. 
He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.” 
“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.” 
“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?” 
“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously. 
“No reason. Just a hunch.” 
When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know. 
Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York. 
And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers. 
What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.  
“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.” 
“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means. 
Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.
It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.
“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure. 
They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know. 
When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string. 
“Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 
“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.” 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86
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descendant-of-truth · 11 months
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Ohhh this scene. This one's a doozy
Nine is right to call this out about Sonic, of course. While he's definitely grown since the start of the show, he's never really been able to move past his tunnel vision and tendency to project onto the others.
He never thought to ask Nine what he wanted not because he doesn't care, but because he didn't think he needed to. He inherently assumes that the people he's working with are on the same page as him until told otherwise - in fact, it wasn't too long ago that he was similarly thrown off by Shadow in that very room.
(Love Shadow being used as a sort of "test run" for these kinds of conflicts by the way)
But here's the thing. While it's true that Sonic didn't really think about what Nine wanted and just assumed they were going to stick together no matter what... the same is true of Nine.
Look at how confused Nine looks when Sonic talks about coming back to Green Hill and restoring it:
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Nine didn't ask what Sonic was wanting to do by repairing the Prism because he thought it was obvious that they were going back to the Grim together. I don't think it occurred to him that fixing Green Hill was even an option, or at least not one that he considered in favor of his original plans.
And just like Sonic, it's not that he only cares about himself - he went out of his way to engineer coconuts and (presumably) palm trees because he knew how much Sonic missed them. It was really sweet!
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But, in what's becoming a pattern in this show, he doesn't understand why those trees matter to Sonic. They're not just cool plants, they're a reminder of home. And as Sonic aptly puts it at the start of the show, home is where your friends are.
I love that the conflict here is that both of them were convinced they knew what the other person wanted/would be okay with, because they think it'll naturally be the same thing they want, and then were both completely unprepared to handle a conflict of interest. It feels so natural and makes perfect sense with how they've been written up to this point.
But see, while I think it's pretty clear that Sonic and Nine fell into the exact same communication trap, I think it's going to take longer for Nine to realize his own fault in any of this.
Sonic spent the entire second half of that conversation looking devastated, and he's made it clear throughout the show that he's quick to feel remorse when he realizes he's hurt someone. In all likelihood, he's going to put all of the blame for that argument on himself, decide that Nine was right about everything, and leave it at that.
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Nine, likewise, doesn't strike me as a particularly self-reflective type. He'd probably try to justify not needing Sonic to himself before anything else, and with that in mind, who else is there to make him see the situation with more nuance?
If I had to pick, I'd guess Shadow - our resident "smacking people in the face with their own flaws" extraordinaire.
Why would he bother with any sort of mediating between the two? Well, the funniest reason would be that he finds Sonic's self-pitying and Nine's self-righteousness equally annoying, but I'm inclined to assume any sort of confrontation between him and Nine would be a little more dramatic than that. (He might still use that reasoning as justification though)
Anyway I gotta cut this post short before I go too far into speculation territory or else I'll be here for another hour and this took long enough to write as is, case in point I love me a well-written and believable conflict
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leossmoonn · 6 months
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Hey do you think you could write about like the reader having an attitude when she comes home from work and mikey fucks the attitude out of her?
18+ under the cut - includes: cut to sex scene, unprotected sex. abby is like at a friends house or smth so dw just bc she’s not mentioned doesn’t mean she’s in the house
this is actually the worst thing i ever wrote im sorry but this is all i could give
you slam the door shut once you get inside. you kick off your shoes rather roughly, practically throwing your keys on the coffee table. mike looks to you, a little taken aback by your demeanor. usually he’s the one coming home throwing things and stomping around. it’s not like you’re a happy-go-lucky person, but you’re not one to be this upset about something unless it’s really bad.
and honestly, you didn’t know what you were upset about. it just seemed like today was the worst day in your entire life. you’d woken up late, didn’t get to eat breakfast, had the worst lunch ever, your meetings at work were a waste of time, and traffic was bad. the list could truly go on. so you weren’t really in the mood to plant a smile on your face and pretend like you weren’t irritated.
“hey, how was work?” mike asks. “fine,” you huff, walking to your shared bedroom. you change out of your work clothes, feeling as though they were suffocating and uncomfortable all day.
mike stands up from the couch, following you. “are you sure it was fine?”
“yes, mike!” you shout. “can you just drop it?”
mike reaches out to touch your arm. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”
you twist your arm out of his grip, feeling like every little thing could just set you off. “i said i’m fine.” you try to keep your cool, but you can feel anger bubbling up inside of you.
“you can talk to me, you know. i’m here for you.”
“i don’t want to talk!” you yell. “just leave me alone for fucks sake!”
mike blinks at you like you just killed somebody. “o-kay,” he says after a long pause. “sorry for checking up on you,” he mumbles.
you groan, “can you not play the self-pity, nice-guy card?”
“i’m not! this is genuinely how i feel! imagine if the roles were reversed. you’d be feeling pretty shitty, too, right?”
“no because i’d know to leave you alone,” you say matter-of-factly.
“well, i’m not going to leave you alone.”
“why?” you ask, ready to throw something.
“because i believe that you need to tell me what’s wrong so you can not have an attitude.”
“well, if you’re just going to pester me, then i’ll just leave.” you slip on a pair of slippers that are by your bed, grabbing a jacket and heading out of the bedroom.
“where are you going?” he asks. “anywhere but here!” you shout.
“you can’t just run away! you’re starting to act like me.”
“yeah, well, maybe i need to not be around you for a while, then!”
mike rolls his eyes at you, knowing you’re just saying all this because you’re mad at him for some reason. he knows he should’ve left you alone, but now the conversation has gone too deep for him to just give up.
as you put a hand on the door, mike grabs your wrist and yanks you back.
“let go, mike. i’m a grown woman and can do what i want.”
“which is precisely why you’re staying here.” he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowed with determination. his grip on you is tight, but not harmful. there are small beads of sweats lining his forehead and his cheeks are slightly flushed from becoming worked up. his eyes are wide and pupils blown out, meaning that he’s been thinking of you in some way in between your fight.
“make me,” you say lowly, in almost a whisper.
you’re on top of the kitchen counter now, sweatpants and panties scattered on the ground. mike’s shirt is somewhere in the living room along with his belt. his jeans are pooled around his legs as he leans against the counter. your nails are digging into his shoulders, head thrown back and rubbing against the cabinets. mike’s face is buried into your neck, pants and whimpers becoming muffled into your skin. his cock is throbbing inside of you as your walls clamp down around him.
“mike, oh! right there, yes!” you moan, your eyes rolling behind your eyelids. he’s balls deep inside of you as he hits that spot expertly.
“fuck, baby. you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder. he can feel your heart thud in your chest as he presses up against you. the sweat on your bodies mix as he thrusts faster. you wrap your legs around his waist, seemingly pulling him in tighter, making him push deeper inside of you. your hands grip his hair as you feel yourself orgasm and you cry out his name.
you feel him come inside of you in hot spurts, coming to a complete stop as he finishes. you both groan as he slips out of you. he grabs a piece of paper towel and wipes up his cum that’s running down your leg.
you’re still huffing and puffing, savoring the feeling of the cold wood and granite on your back and legs. mike gives you a small smile and you lean down and kiss his cheek.
“not so stressed now, huh?” he remarks. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder. “it’s just a coincidence.”
“mm, maybe i should try this next time then and see if it correlates,” he says.
“maybe you should.”
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fierymiasma · 1 year
Text
✼ Drowning in Jealousy ✼ // Ominis x f!MC
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Summary/Request: The hero of Hogwarts has been recently attracting a lot of unwanted attention from other boys. Jealous Ominis makes sure to remind his pretty little dove who she belongs to.
Requested by @slytherinpride94 Thank you so much 💗
Tags: NSFW, Smut, Jealous Ominis, Dominis, Choking, Hair Pulling, you have been warned
Words: 2.5k
|| Masterlist || AO3 ||
!! WARNING NSFW !!
"Will you just leave me alone, for once?" a familiar feminine voice asked.
Ominis froze in his steps.  The hero of Hogwarts was in their usual afternoon study spot in the library.  Notes she had copied down for Ominis already laid on the table before her.
Except, instead of the empty seat reserved for Ominis, there was someone in his place.
Ominis's wand revealed Porter, one of the 7th year boys who was always particularly rude towards pretty girls.
Unfortunately for her, Ominis's girlfriend was no exception.
The 7th year boy sitting in Ominis's seat leaned over, crowding her personal space.  "I came to ask you about that date again, do you remember?"
Her knuckles tightened on her quill.  "With your charm, how could I possibly forget?" she drawled sarcastically, not looking up from her Potions essay.  "I don't like to repeat myself.  I'm with Ominis." 
"C'mon, it's not like the guy can even see." The troll of a man persisted.  "He can't even see how pretty you are.  You're wasted on someone like him."
Ominis wasn't a jealous person.  Sebastian was jealous.  Ominis, well, Ominis was above such petty things.
So he wasn't quite sure what prompted him to interrupt their conversation, sliding in between his girlfriend and the offending idiot bothering her.
"Excuse me, I believe, she said she's not interested."  Ominis sneered.  "You must have troll brains up in that rather empty head of yours.  Figures, probably matches your face anyhow."
The other boy's face turned a blotchy red.  "I don't believe I was talking to you, Gaunt."  The other boy spat.  "It's a damn pity that she's seeing someone like you.  Knowing your family, you probably imperio-ed her into -"
WHACK!
Before Ominis could withdraw his wand from his sleeve, the other boy flew back, knocking over several chairs in the process.  Ominis frowned.  He didn't hear any spells.  It sounded like a fist colliding very hard with someone's face.  Pulling out his wand, it's familiar red glow illustrated the scene before him.
His usually gentle dove had finally stood up from her seat.  She was furious, knuckles now blooming with red.  The shock from her punch tingled up her arm.
Madam Scribner was going to come rounding the corner at any second.  Hand on the back of her waist, Ominis guided his tiny, furious girlfriend towards the library exit.  "Come, my love.  These gits aren't worth getting ourselves into trouble."
Ominis's touch was all that it took for her anger to deflate.  Gathering her belongings, she let Ominis escort her from the scene of the crime.  Though his lover's short temper might have been appeased, Ominis's wicked jealousy sure hadn't.  There was a small tremor in the tips of his fingers right where his hand was on the small of her back. 
How dare they? Ominis's arm tensed around her protectively.  How dare those boys try to make their claim on a woman when she was so clearly disinterested?  For shame, harassing someone like that.  Lost inside his swirling mind, he wasn't even aware of where he was leading her to until the telltale door of the Room of Requirement spun to life. 
His wand scanned the large space around him.  Good, they were alone here. 
"Ominis, why have you brought me here?  Are you alright?  Don't listen to Porter.  He's a moonmi-"
"Are you hurt, my love?" Ominis interrupted a bit harshly.  His trembling fingers running gently over her sore knuckles.
She blinked.  "Um, no, I don't think -"
It was all Ominis needed to hear before something in him snapped.  He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her rich scent before placing possessive kisses against it.  Her muscles loosened in surprise.  She instantly melted into him.  Her peaceful pleasure didn't last long before Ominis pulled her by her hair exposing her neck even more as he left dark marks in his wake. 
 "O-Ominis."  She was surprised at the rough treatment.
"You're mine."  His voice was soft yet firm.  It left no room for doubt. 
She could only let out a whimper in response. 
"Say it." He demanded, lips trailing up her neck towards her ear.  His hot breath tickled the nape of her neck.  Ominis bit her earlobe.  "Say that you're mine."
Shivering at the goosebumps erupting on her skin, she nodded feverishly.  "Yours, Ominis.  I'm yours." 
She could feel his lips curled into a smile against her jaw.  "Good girl."
Merlin, it was pathetic how wet she was from his words alone.
Ominis was unrelenting.  "Clothes, off.  Don't make me wait, dove."
Frenetic hands frantically undid her blouse buttons.  She feverishly stripped as fast as possible as Ominis accio'ed a bed closer to where the couple stood.
Uncharacteristically inpatient, Ominis turned to the still-undressing girl.  He was unable to wait.  Greedy hands mapped her body.  Her blouse now gone but bra and skirt were still in place.
Ominis would need to rectify that.  Trailing his hand up to her neck, he boldly wanted to try something dark that had been hidden in the back of his mind.
His large cold hand wrapped around her pretty throat, squeezing gently and experimentally.  His fingers dug into her skin, somehow dominating yet so careful around his flower.
She moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
A cruel smirk made its way on Ominis's face.  "Only I can see you like this, do you hear me?"
She tried to nod but Ominis's firm hand held her in place.  She mewled.
Satisfied with her answer, Ominis hand tightened around her neck before pushing his girl onto the bed behind her.  She fell, legs knocked apart, begging to be opened.  His other hand trailed down her body, marveling at the smooth, familiar curves of her body.  His fingers dancing along the band of her skirt before dipping underneath.
She leaned into his touch, desperate for more.
Ominis brain was a whirling storm.  She was his.  No one else's.  He could feel his girl completely soaking through her undergarments for him.  The wetness was shamelessly leaking through the material.  His fingers pressed firmly against the heat, drawing out a breathy gasp.
"You're so gorgeous, no one in all of Hogwarts can resist you."  His words were almost unrecognizable even to himself, deeper and more raspy.  "You've been such a good girl for me.  I'm going to make you forget everyone else but me."
Ominis had always treated her so delicately in bed, worshiping her.  He always whispered pretty compliments into her skin.  Never before had she had experienced anything like this. 
Letting go of her throat, he roughly hitched up her modest skirt to her stomach, eliciting a sound of alarm from his girl.  Her soaked undergarments still hid her essence away from him.  He growled.  Quickly pulling out his wand, he pointed it at her, vanishing her bra and underwear away, hopefully never to be worn again.
She squeaked in alarm, now completely exposed.  Her legs closing instantly, a bit embarrassed at how naked she was compared to Ominis, still fully dressed.
Her movements earned her a growl. Ominis fell to his knees, parting her quivering legs to make room for himself.  His face was so dangerously close to her wet center, she could feel Ominis's hot breath tickle her inner thighs.
"Fuck." He whispered to himself.  His arousal pulsed dangerously in his tight pants.  His mouth closed over her core, relishing in the thick arousal he tasted here.  His tongue dipped inside her, teasing her of things yet to come.  Throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, he dove deeper into her, worshiping her.
Her thighs tightened around his ears in a viper's hold around him, pulling him closer to her wet center.  Ominis couldn't breathe, gasping for air against her wet folds.  She was a siren, drowning her latest's victim between her thighs, and Ominis couldn't be more pleased to volunteer.
She hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his wicked mouth.  Her eyes were shut in pure arousal.  Ominis's tongue sped up, occasionally pausing to suck her sensitive, swollen clit.  His firm hands gripped her before pulling her forward, half off the bed.
She's never felt such tense fire in her belly like this before.  Ominis could hear the pathetic stuttering whimpers that he was drawing out of his dove.  Her hands flew down to tightly pull in the strands of his hair.  A telltale tremble raced down her whole body.
"O-Ominis, I'm-"
Suffocating in her, he pulled her closer to his mouth, tongue working faster in response.
"D-don't stop!  Ah…!  Yesyesyes-"  Something tight snapped in her gut as she came over his face.  She felt dizzy and boneless, unsure if she was going to pass out from the way the very end of her nerves tingled.
"Please." She begged breathlessly, unsure exactly what she was asking. 
A growl ripped itself from his chest, as he stood up.  He surged forward, lips claiming her neck again, leaving bruising marks in her perfect skin.  His other hand reached for his trousers, fumbling them open to relieve the tight pressure around his cock. 
Throwing her arms around his back, she pulled him closer.  She never wanted to let go.  A hot blunt tip rubbed itself along her sensitive slit.  She gasped, still recovering from the aftershock of her organism.  Hips moving of their own accord, she tried to grind down onto him, begging for Ominis to take her. 
Ominis stilled.  His hands found her waist, holding her in place and preventing her from sinking down onto him.  "What would people think if they saw you like this? If they saw how the hero of Hogwarts was such an absolute slut."
She was delirious with want, only moaning in reply.
She could feel his smile widen against her collarbone.  "It's too bad they can't see you like this because you're mine.  No one else can have you."
Pulling her closer to him, he forced the full length of his cock into her in one smooth motion. She gasped, her walls trembled around his cock, still so sensitive.  Ominis never was like this, in all the time they've been together.  He's always been gentle, slow, methodical in his approach.
She liked this new side of him.  
His hips snapped forward relentlessly not giving her a moment's of rest.  Her eyes teared with pleasure as her nails left indents in the back of his shirt. The stark difference between a fully clothed Ominis and her completely naked self sent shivers down her spine. Her walls fluttered around his cock at every thrust, clamping down whenever Ominis brushed against her sensitive spot.  He was completely gone at this point.  His normally perfectly gelled hair fell out of place.  Strands of light blond hair cascaded in front of his eyes. 
"Mine.  You're mine."  He rasped, sucking on her neck. 
"I'm yours." she agreed eagerly.  His pounding was relentless.  His cock brushing up against that bundle of nerves that made her see white.
"I'm the only one who can see you like this."  Ominis reminded her.  His thrusts got deeper and harsher.  "Not Sebastian.  Not Garreth.  Not even fucking Porter."
She could feel his cock brush against a certain bundle of nerves, and she gasped in agreement.  It did not go unnoticed by Ominis.  Pulling her hips off the beg, he aimed for that spot with merciless precision in every stroke.
A man like Ominis could go mad just listening to the symphony of whimpers and moans from his dove.  The wet skin slapping each other, the sound of the bed rocking against the floors of the Room of requirement.  Ominis hissed, feeling the familiar warm coil tightening in his stomach.  His thrusts became more erratic and harsh.
It was too much.  She still hadn't recovered from earlier.  "F-fuck, O-ominis.  I-I'm so close."  she whined.  Her thighs trembled, on the precipice of another orgasm.  
Ominis chuckled against her neck,  His fingers moving to her clit, circling around it.
"O-Ominis." she begged. "P-please."
"Cum for me." he demanded roughly.
She moaned before finally reaching her climax.  Ominis's fingers still punishingly rubbing her clit as the tight walls around his cock spasmed.  His hips had not stopped, still brutally pumping his cock into her. 
"Good girl." he praised breathlessly.  He was so close. The knot that was building inside him completely unraveled.  As he bottomed out, he released inside of her.  His cock pulsed inside her velvety warmth. 
The feverish delirium abetted, leaving only cold embarrassment. How barbaric he treated her.  Pulling out of her, turned himself back into his pants.  He was raised better than this. Ominis ran thin fingers over her skin, hoping that his rough handling of her had not left bruises. 
With his wand, he tidied his girlfriend up, vanishing any bodily fluids and conjuring up a clean wet cloth for her.  Since they've been together he had always treated his dove with the delicate doting that she deserved.  So harsh and ugly were the challenges she faced both with Ranrok and within Hogwarts, did she not deserve some modicum of soft reprieve?
Ominis cringed as he laid besides her on the bed.  He had a clear mind now able to think back at the way his bruising grip tightened around her soft thighs as he licked her slit.  His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her roughly against him.
He threw an arm around his face, embarrassed.  Ominis had acted on his baser instincts, and for what?  Because he got jealous over some stupid boys?  Ugh, he was no better than those trolls.
She shifted right besides him, basking in a warm after-glow.  She could already see the beginnings purplish bloom of finger-shaped bruises on her hips.  Delicately pressing on them, she was pleasantly happy to see that the memory of tonight would be etched into her very skin.
Ominis was too quiet next to her.  Turning to her other side, she say a very familiar pinched expression of Ominis's self-loathing.  She huffed.  Silly boy.  Probably distraught at how "un-gentlemanly" he was. 
Unbothered by her lack of clothing, she rolled on top of him, sitting on his hard stomach.  She was delighted at the shocked look of his face when he could feel her naked thighs slide along his bare skin.  He could probably feel how warm her center was.  Leaning over him, her undone hair cascaded down her shoulders, covering the two of them in a thick curtain.  The tips of her hair tickled his face.  Ominis could feel her warm breath as her lips hovered dangerously close to his.
"Let's do this again sometime."
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krypticcafe · 1 year
Note
Y/N, staring at König: I bet I could take him
Soap: ... in a fight, right?
Y/N: :)
Soap: In a fight, right?
Alternatively, little ooc but
König: I could take you on
Y/N: ... like in a fight?
König: Ye- yes?
Y/N: Oh. Pity.
König: What.
Take On Me
rating: teen
pairing(s): König x GN!Reader
warning(s): suggestive themes, language, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as a sergeant, fluff at the end, possible grammar errors
a/n: decided to make this a one-shot! I enjoy writing and reading sexual tension, but ironically, I'm always on the fence about writing full smut. oh and please ignore the poor quality of the fight scene, I can't write them for shit :')
synopsis: fight or not, you're pretty sure you could take him on.
The room was filled with the smell of sweat and leather as soldiers took on their training time in the base's surprisingly sizable gym. Several were utilizing the exercise machines, some simply resting on the benches, and others making light conversation.
Currently, you were in the midst of putting your sparring partner in a deadlock, motivated by the small crowd that cheered and winced at the sight. With a face flushed red, your opponent tapped out and a chorus of boisterous laughter, groans, and exclamations rang around you. You threw yourself off of them, helping your partner up and thanking them while also throwing in a compliment on their performance as a show of good sportsmanship. As you stepped off the platform, you were given several pats on the back and comments. While it was definitely an ego boost, you were by no means the best in the base, but people knew that you were on the 141 for a reason, and your combat skills were nothing to laugh about.
Feeling a harsh slap on the back, you turned and gripped their arm, twisting it at an uncomfortable angle since your body was still working on instinct.
"Ow ow ow-! It's me!" Soap yelped, but you further clenched your hand, "I was just going to congratulate you! Christ almighty, you've got a grip-"
"You scotsmen have a real funny way of congratulating people then," you quipped, letting go of his arm, "Honestly Soap, you should know better than smacking a soldier right after they get out of the ring."
He muttered under his breath, holding his sore wrist to his chest in mock offense and sighing, "How about I treat you to a water then? Consider it an apology of sorts."
"Oh you mean the jug on the bench that's just about 4 meters away? Why, I'd be so honored to have you as my escort, Sergent McTavish."
"Awa' n bile yer heid!" He scoffed with amusement, "Can't even let me do something nice without takin' a stab at me, can ya?"
You shook your head, laughing with him while you two went to grab a drink. He at least had the courtesy to pass you a towel to wipe your sweat off. Hanging it around your shoulders, you grabbed a bottle and started chugging. Tilting your head back, you noticed in the corner of your eye another match that was going on. It wasn't surprising, considering how multiple sparring matches would go on simultaneously all the time. But it wasn't the match itself that got your attention, but rather the person that was in it.
You recognized him instantly with how he gained notoriety for his size (no, not in that way, but you'd be lying if you said the thought hasn't crossed your mind for the briefest of moments) amongst the soldiers, even though he was part of KorTac. His presence led you to the conclusion that SpecGru and KorTac were most likely holding another joint operation together again, unsurprising since they're practically sister companies. Not to mention, the two of you had small talk in the past in passing from previous missions together and whenever you bumped into each other on base.
Staring for a while more, you watched as he viciously pummeled his opponent into the ground, barely breaking a sweat. Catching sight of his eyes behind his dark hood, you caught the way they lit up at his victory, as if delighted by the violence in an almost animalistic manner. It made your arms prick with goosebumps, you didn't want to know why. It was a surprise to find him in such a state since every time you've seen him, his eyes were usually darting around like a skittish lamb, contradicting his appearance in every sense. But who were you to question it? After all, your own lieutenant was feared like the grim reaper in the battlefield, but at base with the others, he was just another British geezer at heart.
Soap whistled and stood by you, eyeing the way you were fixed on the match in front of you. "Looks like someone's caught yer eye, aye?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah I guess." You hummed, not taking your eyes off the Austrian as he pinned his opponent down.
Soap raised a brow and smirked. It wasn't hard for him to catch on, but he was surprised to see you so entranced by a person for once. "I see... well, I don't blame you. The guy sticks out like a sore thumb and he's an absolute unit."
You nodded absent-mindedly, a little too focused on the way König flexed while keeping his enemy down. Much to your demise, his shirt was painfully tight-fitting, especially when damp with perspiration and christ, you felt like you had to tear your eyes from staring at his thighs for too long. How can someone be built so... so...
Delicious?
Before you knew it, the fight ended and König was beginning to head your way, most likely to grab water. Without thinking, you turned to the side and muttered under your breath, "I could probably take him."
"Oooo, cocky now, aren't ya?" Soap laughed, missing the message. You, on the other hand, tried to keep your composure, rubbing the towel on your neck.
"Uh, sure... You could put it that way."
The scotsman had a look of confusion and was about to ask you to elaborate until he saw König pull up beside you. "Oi, König! You did a real good job out there-"
Looking at Soap, you saw a mirth in his eyes that you immediately recognized, your eyes widening as you began to mouth silent protests to him and gesturing for him to 'not do whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing'.
"-you think you can handle another round? You two already know each other, right? I was thinkin' you could use a change of pace, and what's better than going against a prized member of the 141?"
You watched as König eyed you up and down cautiously, and you had to resist letting a shiver run down your spine. Why did he have to look at you like that? You knew the bare minimum of the guy, and yet you were acting like a fool in your own head.
After he was done sizing you up, he nodded, his eyes lighting up, "I could take you on."
"Like in a fight?" Once more, your mouth had outrun your brain, probably fried from the way he was practically checking you out.
"Y-Yes?" König stuttered, caught off-guard by your bizarre question. What other connotation could his words have had?
"Oh. Pity." You mumbled with a sigh, tossing your water bottle to the side along with your towel, beginning to walk towards the sparring box.
"Wait what-"
You cut off König's confusion as you hopped over into the box, folding your arms and leaning on the ropes. "So we gonna fight or what, soldier?"
"I- uh," He paused, trying to get his mind into the present. He shook his head and nodded, "Yes, sergent."
There was something about the way he strided over to the ring and only needed to swing his legs over the ropes to get in that made your heart beat twice, or maybe it was the way he looked back at you, the two of you staring each other down like hungry animals preparing for a cage match.
Though your hunger was that of a different kind if you were being honest.
Soap stood outside on the side of the box, playing referee for the match. At his signal, you set yourself at a stance and got a feel for the area, preparing yourself.
As you expected, König struck first. After all, you weren't just staring at him during his match, you were watching as well, which gave you a bit of an unfair advantage, but you figured it'd balance out his size advantage. Moving to the side, you followed up your dodge with a quick jab to his side. You were about to make another, but he had more control over his reflexes than you thought. He blocked it and countered by hitting you square between your shoulder and chest. The two of you were even.
He was a formidable opponent, certainly not at the level of Ghost or Price, but good enough that you'd think he'd ought to be a candidate for the 141. Sure, his technique was sloppy, but if he cleaned it up, then combined with his strength, he could be one hell of a soldier. Soap seemed to take note of his potential, too, giving König tips here and there. You'd almost forgotten this was supposed to be practice for him.
You were starting to grow exhausted as the fight went on, it hadn't been that long, but you two were lasting for quite a while in the ring, and neither side had held back. At several points throughout the fight, one of you would get in a hit or move in a way that had Soap cringing and gritting his teeth, watching at the edge of his seat. Hmph. At least someone was enjoying themselves.
While the fight was a nice way for you to get an eyeful of your opponent, it wasn't that enjoyable when you were panting and sweating your ass off, counting all the non-sexy bruises you'd wake up with later. Wanting to put things to an end, you looked for the right chance, dropping and sliding past his legs before getting up and propelling yourself forward. With a leap, you launched yourself onto König's back, latching onto it and pulling him down with all your weight. Just before he'd come crashing down, you swung yourself around his torso, shifting to his front so you wouldn't get crushed in the fall and further push him down.
He went down like a tree, shaking the platform as he made contact. Soap hollered in awe, whistling at your takedown. "That's our sergeant! Steamin' Jesus, wasn't that a show?"
You were panting hard from the stunt, but you managed to give König a sly grin, leaning down that you were just inches away from his veil, "So whaddya say König? You done, or you want go another round?"
"I- I'm done-" His voice strained, writhing under you since the pressure on his chest was making it hard to breathe properly. In addition, he was trying his best to not stare too much since even he was aware of how this looked, with you settled on his chest, knees on either side of his head and effectively trapping him with your thighs, not to mention your hands held his wrists above his head, locking him in a very compromising position. Your view was just as nice, giving you a good look at his face, or at least what you could see of it. A part of you wanted to say it was only because they were the only thing of him you could see, but you felt your heart flutter when the two of you locked eyes. It never had occurred to you, but his eyes were a sage green with a muddled ring of crystal blue that glimmered under the lights above, and the way he looked at you alone almost made you breathless again.
When were his eyes so damn pretty?
"Good choice." Although you played it off as a friendly threat, in reality, you were relieved he didn't want to go again, far too weary for another round and undoubtedly, you'd lose that one.
Rolling off his back, you stood up and outstretched a hand to him. Even though you couldn't see his full face, you could tell he appreciated the gesture by the friendly crinkle of his eyes and the way he took your hand, yelping when you yanked him up.
"Whoops, too hard? My bad."
König shook his head, "Oh no, not at all, I was just surprised. Ah, and thank you for helping me practice, Sergeant. It helped me realize a few things I need to improve."
"It's no problem at all, König, I'm glad I could help. All that matters is that you got something useful out of that loss and turn it into a gain."
"Price really must be getting to you."
"Shut it MacTavish."
The two of you stepped out of the ring and started to pack your things, further discussing improvements for König and some for yourself. Soap left a little early to "attend business with Ghost" (probably to ramble about the fight), to which you cursed him out with a glare for ditching you so abruptly. Now, it was just you and the Austrian in the gym.
"Well, I'll be going back to my place now, I guess I'll see you sometime soon?"
"Yes, of course. Maybe we could spar again sometime soon?" König asked, much to your surprise.
"Sure, I'd love to," you smiled to yourself a moment, debating your urges and ultimately deciding to shoot your shot because when else were you going to have the confidence to? Insecurity be damned, the post-victory adrenaline was getting to you. "Maybe we can even have some more... private matches?"
"Mhm, I wouldn't mind that. But I think we'd need someone to watch, no? Or unless you want to record and we can study it."
Not what you're implying, but his response definitely could be taken that way, causing your face to warm up again. Maybe if you pushed him in the right direction, he'd realize. "Er- I was kinda thinking we'd do it in my place, maybe? Unless you're more comfortable at yours."
All your attempts were going over his head as he grew more and more confused. "Sergeant, I don't believe the rooms are big enough for a fight-"
You burst out laughing, giggling to yourself at how ridiculous it all was, you dancing around your point and how it was leading him on a wild goose chase without even knowing it. Wiping a tear from your eye, you wheezed, "I- ohmygod- I'm so sorry- it's just, wow-"
You felt bad for laughing, but it was the only way you could make things less awkward for yourself and ease the tension. "I'm so sorry, König it's just- you're not really good at picking up hints, huh? But honestly, I should've been more straightforward with you, so,"
"What I'm trying to say is," Taking in a deep breath, you stood straight and looked him in the eye determinedly, "Would you like to hang out sometime? Just the two of us? Together?"
"König?"
Silence.
At that moment, König had put all the puzzle pieces together, or at least what little of them he had, and realized that you'd been (horribly) flirting with him the entire time. He also realized how hopelessly clueless he sounded. Like a computer needing to reboot, he began to overheat underneath his mask and sputtered, an incoherent jumble of words both German and English spilling from his lips. You giggled and pat him on the shoulder, "I take that as a yes, then?"
He let out a slew of words in German, catching himself immediately afterward, "Yes! I would love that- I mean, like that!"
"Really? Oh thank god, I've actually been meaning to ask that for a while now," you nervously chuckled, grabbing a pen and notepad from your bag and taking his hand in yours, putting a note in his palm, "Hope you don't mind if I just write something down... I think the weekend I'll be available so until then?"
"Mhm," He mumbled, trying not to fixate too much on how your hand was holding his as if you two weren't throwing hands earlier.
"Great! See you then!" You pressed a quick peck on his cheek and scurried away before he could react. You sneaky lil thing.
Stunned, König stood still for a solid minute until finally looking at his palm to see what you wrote.
"Here's my phone and room number! Next time we meet, be prepared because I can and will take you on! On a date, of course."
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orikiys · 8 months
Text
✿ ✿ 〞safe place
✰ pairings: ot8 x fem!reader
✰ genre: romance, comfort, angst with fluffy ending
✰ warnings: reader has long hair, mentions of cursing and just reader having a hard time at the start, mentions of food
✰ word count: 3.6k + words
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✿ . . plot
growing up, your parents taught you various things about whom to trust, how to save money and how to cook, all things like that. but there is one thing that still makes you hesitant… don’t worry. they said, don’t worry just take a deep breath and relax yourself, everything will eventually work out and being the obedient child you were, you always listened to them because things do work out.
but then why were you feeling as if you weren’t real? as if everything, every person, every feeling that you ever experienced felt like a scene from some novel? what is this feeling? you couldn’t name it; but you hated every bit of it. you hated how your chest hurts and even after rubbing it several times, there’s still a feeling as if there is a rope that is tied around your neck. a rope that’s strangling you and making you feel more and more anxious. you glance at your phone with a blank face, while your mind was facing a war, there’s still a text from him asking about what you were doing. you haven’t replied to him yet.
with a glance at the clock, you wrap your arms around your plushie tighter and close your eyes, trying to settle down this unknown emotion of restlessness. you try to think of him, think of good memories that you created along with him, you try to think of his smiling face and of his words that never fail to make your heart flutter. you needed to hold back until he comes back home and you return back in his arms.
౨₊ৎ chan
when you and chan first started dating, chan was everything you could ask for. he knew what you needed without you saying it, he knew what you liked, he remembered it and had it written down in his journal. it made you feel loved and secure, the two things that you always longed for in a relationship.
chan never failed to make you feel better, he talked to you and listened to your problems intently, as if trying to read between the lines and trying to figure out what went wrong. but with him away on a tour, it was hard. it was even harder to tell him anything mainly because you didn’t want him to worry when he already had so much on his plate. you never want to burden him with your worries. neither do you like to pitied, so will try you keep your emotions to yourself until he comes back.
but looks like that plan is unsuccessful the moment your phone rings and you see his video call. with a soft grunt, you sit up and set your hair before accepting the call.
there he is, sitting on his chair while wearing his signature black hoodie and a wide smile on his face.
“hey sunshine, how are you doing today?” a sentence from him is all it takes for you to break down and hide your face with your one hand and try to get out of the camera’s frame.
“what’s wrong?” his voice is calm, but you know he’s trying not to show his worry to scare you.
you chuckle, trying to brush it off by saying, “it’s nothing just missed you.” but he knows you very well. he knows you well to figure out something is seriously wrong, because until now you would’ve usually spammed him with texts or photos of what you did.
there’s a silence as he just stares at you through the screen before sighing out loud, “i know i’m pretty far from you right now, but you can tell me what’s bothering you anytime. anytime you want, and i’m serious. i don’t want to force you to say what happened so i’ll just talk about how my day went.”
he begins talking about his day, about what he did and what things reminded him of you and what things made him miss you. there’s a smile on his lips, but there’s worry clouded in his eyes, which you pretend not to see and just nod in amusement as he continues to list the things he did.
an hour later, when the two of you hang up, you receive a text from him. it’s a video of you in a garden sitting on a swing and laughing. it brings back a flood of memories from where it started, and you feel like you’re too distracted by the memories that the feeling you had in you earlier, has resided long back. it never fails to surprise you how he can make you feel the real you. with him, there’s no need to pretend. it’s just him and you. he tries his best yo understand how you feel, and considers your feelings sincerely. it’s his love for you that reassures you to not worry. because things eventually do work out.
౨₊ৎ minho
when minho saw you sitting on the couch half- dazed out he knew something wasn’t right. judging the way that even after being home for fifteen minutes he was just welcomed with a nod, it made him sense that something was very wrong. even after cooking your favourite food, there was no smile on your face and it made his heart burn.
without a single word, he heads upstairs. minutes later a shout from him his heard, telling you to head upstairs. so you do and upon entering you could feel your eyes blur as you look at the little pillow castle he created along with a laptop and a pack of chips.
“it was time for movie night anyways,” he sheepishly utters, while maintaining a casual look even though on the inside he is nervous for your reaction. a small smile from you is all it takes for him to return the smile twice as bright along with a hug. it’s the feeling of a warm embrace. that peculiar look of love on his face. perhaps it is also the way his hands are in your hair. but mostly, it’s his eyes that shine with adoration. those eyes that can speak a thousand words and even without anything communication there is still laughter that could be seen.
“do you feel better now?” his voice is calm and you know he’s trying not to force you from the way his fingers trace patterns on your palm.
“yeah, thank you so much,” you mumble and press a soft kiss on his cheek making him smile at you lovingly.
“do you wanna go out for a walk?” he questions suddenly making you look at him in confusion. he gets up while grabbing your hand. and when you nod, he doesn’t hesitate to drag you along with him while running as fast as he could, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm.
it was 11 in the night, yet he still is as energetic as ever. there’s an evident smile on his face as he swings your hand together with his, while walking down the isolated streets. there’s a silence, one that often gets interrupted because of some vehicle honking in a distance, but at least he’s there with you. right when you needed him.
with a fond look plastered over your face, you watch him talk about his day and about some of his annoying colleagues that managed to make his mood go sour. it’s amusing to see the way he takes one glance at you and changes the subject every five minutes, trying to keep your mood up.
౨₊ৎ changbin
“babe? it’s okay, just let me in?”
how long had it been since he had been knocking on the door using every persuasive writing key points he learned in elementary school to convince you to open up the door, but you were stubborn as ever and refused to even budge it a bit. you don’t exactly remember how you both ended up like this. was it because of it felt anxious to show your emotions fully in front of him? or was it the way you thought that he would think you were a crybaby?
“go away, please.”
you try to keep your voice firm, but it cracks the moment you hear him let out a deep sigh and try to coax you, he knew he can’t leave you alone, especially when you’re having a rough time. so he stays there for a moment, trying to think of something that will make you open up.
you and changbin had been dating for over 4 months now. all these 4 months were getting to know each other better and spending time together and eating and cooking together. it was fun. it truly was. with him, you felt like you could actually crack jokes and laugh as hard as you wanted to because he would never judge you. then why were you hiding your feelings from him?
being the type of person, who doesn’t like to share their problems with anyone else, it felt weird when he started asking you how your days were or if you were eating well. soon you got used to it, but you had no clue what to do when you would break down while he’s with you.
“baby? i don’t know what’s troubling you. is it me? or did anyone say something to you?” he questions softly while you try to muffle your sobs.
he waits for a reply, a sniffle, anything and instead hears the click of the door which makes him sigh in relief. he is quick to wrap you in his embrace and caress your head making your body shake from the sobs.
he stays like that for around five minutes before pulling away and cupping your face. he wipes your tears with his sleeves and looks deeply into your eyes.
“i don’t want you to ever lock yourself like that, okay?” he scolds you, but his soft tone says otherwise.
“you had me worried so much baby, if you’re not feeling well, ever, i repeat ever, just call me.”
though he couldn't see it, a soft smile tugs at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow. he was your safe place.
౨₊ৎ hyunjin
hyunjin drops your favourite chocolate over your lap, before nestling in beside you. wordlessly he copies your position and curls himself on the couch while staring at you. you don’t look at him. you don’t even try to acknowledge his presence, but you can feel it. the scent of his shampoo after he just came from a shower, it’s so familiar and smells like home which makes you sigh in content. even without doing anything and just by staying by your side he manages to provide you with comfort.
“did you miss me?” he cocks his head playfully while grabbing hold of your hands and manages to catch your attention.
“is that even a question?” you retort back making him chuckle.
it’s almost comical how at ease you feel just by his touch, his presence and his words. if there’s one thing that hyunjin is good at which never fails to amuse you, is the way he tries to act according to your moods.
if you’re happy, he’ll match your vibe and take you out on a late night convenience store date. if you’re angry, he’ll buy you some chocolates and snacks and remain patient for your anger to reside. and if you’re sad ( like today), then he’ll just listen or talk depending on whether you open up first or not. it’s not just the way that he loves being with you, but it’s the way that he puts in the efforts to understand you. to understand what’s wrong rather than acting immaturely. so in this relationship, he was the mature one, though at times he loves being babied as well.
“want to talk about it?” he whispers carefully, while glancing at you through the corner of his eye.
with a nod you delve into a ramble about everything that happened in detail. it doesn’t take long for him to begin adding his comments here and there as well. it makes you feel as if someone does observe you. as if, someone does listen to you.
“sorry, am i boring you too much?” you asked in a small voice, confused as to why he suddenly stopped adding on his thoughts.
“i could never be bored. you know why? it’s because i could literally do nothing and sit here, listening to your voice for hours,” it’s not the first time he’s ever said things like these to you and yet, they never fail to make you speechless.
“i need a cuddle,” he changes the subject swiftly and you laugh, “why are you so cute today?”
“i’m cute everyday,” he replies with a blank face as he turns to glance at you.
“i love you, you know that right?” you say with a wide grin on your face and wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to death.
“i love you too, but i won’t allow you to kill me,” he huffs.
and there’s a good thing of being with him and eating your favourite pack of chocolates. it’s the best combination in the world. and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
౨₊ৎ jisung
“… are you okay pretty?”
jisung was busy on his phone, when he heard a sniffle, followed by another before he looked up to see you standing before the kitchen counter, clutching the counter pretty hard and with your shoulders shaking.
there’s no reply from you and he grows even more concerned. quickly making his way next to you, he silently shuffles and stands behind you, with his head resting on the crook of your neck and hands wrapped around your waist.
he has no clue what’s wrong but he hates this. he hates seeing you cry, regardless of what the reason might be. it breaks his heart even more when you hold his hand tightly and sob without looking at him. and he hates this so, so much especially when he sees the way you try to hide your tears from him. the least he could do was to be there for you when you feel low.
“i’ll be fine,” you mutter, trying to reassure him but he doesn’t budge even a bit. he stands there, glued to his spot, and just stares at you in worry. it’s almost as if he can read between the lines. i don’t want to be a burden, don’t waste your time on me. it makes him feel as if he failed. as if he failed to assure you that you could rely on him, he feels so frustrated because he loves you so much. he loves you so much that it he can’t help but cry along with you.
upon hearing his sniffle, it’s you that turns around shocked to see him already looking at you through tears. you chuckle weakly as he kisses your nose tenderly.
“why did you have to cry? no i’m crying too,” he whines and tries to wipe his tears but they keep flowing.
jisung had once made this rule of what’s yours is his too, looks like he took it too seriously. he takes away all your pain, all your sorrow in minutes. and you can’t even believe yourself sometimes, of how lucky you are to have a partner like him.
“you’re so silly,” you huff and wipe his tear.
“we’re so silly.”
he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, nudging your forehead with his.
౨₊ৎ felix
“she really said that to you?” he voices out his disbelief, as you continue telling how your friend just said something unacceptable.
“i can’t believe this. baby, you need to confront her about it, okay? whenever you’re ready,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the side of your head and staying in that position for over a minute.
“she’s my friend though,” you trail off when he sends you a stern look. “friends or not, she can’t just say things like that to you.”
when it came to felix, the most important thing was respect and care. he believed that caring and respecting others is the best way for bonding. even though some people might beg to differ, it’s his personal opinion. and when it came to you… he gets engulfed in this strange, unfamiliar feeling of the need to protect you and keep you safe.
be it even the least harmful ones like just bumping your hand on the wall, keeping the water warm for your bath since you hated it cold and many things that never failed to make your heart flutter.
“are you hungry by any chance?” he asks, while ruffling your hair slowly before brushing them back to make them untangled and gets up, almost about to head to the kitchen but still patiently waiting for your reply.
“it’s fine,” you send him a small smile, making him nod and disappear into the kitchen. minutes later, he returns back with two bowls of ramen and wordlessly places on in front of you and begins digging in.
“i didn’t see any dishes in the sink,” he muttered while glancing down at his bowl, making you pick up your bowl as well.
you found it different. different in a good way, how just talking things out with him is so easy. you don’t have to lie to him. you don’t have to hide your emotions from him. you’re an open book to him. and so is he to you.
౨₊ৎ seungmin
you just wished that you could disappear, if not for long perhaps at least for a day. the way your head is throbbing after your previous break down session is literally the worst feeling in this world (except when your favourite chocolate runs out of the store).
you squint and look around for your medications, but it’s too far away and you don’t even think you have the energy to even speak. but somebody else is faster. a certain someone who’s been watching you closely since the moment he heard you sniffle.
seungmin walks towards you and bends down before handing you a tablet and a glass of water. you give him a small smile and gulp them down together.
“you’ll feel better soon. do you to head to the bedroom to get some sleep?” he murmurs softly and keeps an arm on your knee out of habit.
“it’s fine, i slept in the afternoon anyways,” you reply, making him nod to himself.
there’s silence for a moment before he leaves the room. you look back up when he returns but with a book in his hands and a knowing smile on his face.
he plops next to you, and makes you rest your head on his lap.
with an arm across your stomach and the other holding the book, he begins reading it to you.
you don’t realize when exactly, but in this moment right now, you could feel as if you were bursting out of happiness. out of love and immense affection for the man named kim seungmin.
౨₊ৎ jeongin
“are you asleep?”
it’s been a few hours since he came back home and there is no wonder that he noticed the drastic change in your mood. he didn’t want to point it out thinking you needed time for yourself, but now it was making him feel guilty. he felt guilt creep up into him for not asking you and making you deal with your problems alone.
“not really,” you whisper back and he nods, the action producing a soft sound from the friction of the pillow. a minute later, you toss and face him. his eyes are fixated on you and there’s a sleepy smile that crawls over his face but it drops in an instant when he remembers about your mood earlier.
sighing softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on the nape of your neck. “i’m sorry for not asking you how you were feeling when you were clearly having a hard time.”
his voice sounds so… sad that it breaks your heart. you shake your head twice before telling him, “you just did what you thought was best. and it did help me clear out a bit of my head. just forget it, i’ll forget it too.”
he tucks his arm under your head and pulls you into his chest, “i’m sorry.”
jeongin didn’t know what to do except for comforting you at the moment, words were forming very slowly in his head and your answers were almost convincing which made him annoyed knowing how carelessly you brush away your feelings.
“do you want to talk about it?” he asks with slight hesitation, his voice no louder than a hushed mutter.
when he receives a nod from you, he smiles to himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he listens to you intently.
your voice slowly trailed off and when he looked down to see your eyes shut, he kissed your forehead gently and tucked the blanket around you properly. at least at the end of the day, he didn’t let you be on your own.
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