#I had checked for a packing slip and there wasn’t one

[cottonlemonade]

He Realizes He Has A Crush

word count: 1539 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: University AU!Sakusa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: congrats!! for breakfast Im gonna grab a 12 then study with kiyoomi :) || fluffy, project partners with crush, Sakusa

Snow was not so bad. Snow you could have dealt with. Sideways gusts of icy cold sleet that slipped between the tiny gaps in your scarf and hair to trickle down your collar were unacceptable. You shivered and cursed the wind that stopped you from using your umbrella as a shield as you waited, frozen to the core, for the bus to arrive. The day just kept getting worse - and you didn’t want to go in the first place! Sakusa intimidated you. He was always in the top ranks of any exam, indifferent to most people he met and dubbed as quite the loner, but nonetheless carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who knew how to spell entrepreneur and charcuterie. You guessed he couldn’t have been happy when he was paired with you for the semester’s most important project.

With slumped shoulders, you trudged onto the bus. It was mercifully warm, but the ride was too short to make any headway in drying your clothes, so when you arrived at the tall, imposing apartment building Sakusa had told you to come to, your drenched shoes had you slip a few times on the clean marble tiles of the lobby. The squeaking and squelching of your steps echoed in your ears as you hurried to catch the elevator.

“What happened to you?”, Sakusa asked with his usual frown as soon as he opened the door. It took you a moment to realize what was different about him. He wasn’t wearing his mask. Huh. So that scowl really did stretch all the way over his face. He watched with his arms crossed as you took off your shoes. Your socks were two different shades from the water that had pooled at the soles, and he noted the wet footprints you left behind. “Didn’t you pack an umbrella?”

“I did, but the wind was too strong.”

“Hm.”

He didn’t step aside.

“Are you really not gonna let me in?”, your voice was higher and more annoyed than you would have liked, but you were very cold and very wet and would’ve loved to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“There is a bathroom down the hall.”, he nodded to his right.

“Great.”

“Go take a hot shower, you must be freezing.”

You looked at him with stunned silence. In the meantime, Sakusa tilted his head and scanned you from head to foot.

“I’ll find you something dry to wear. Extra towels are in the cabinet under the sink.”

He walked off, leaving you to question if you heard him correctly.

The bathroom was smaller than you expected it to be in such a home. Peeling out of your wet shirt and pants, you looked around. Above the sink was a large mirror and a shelf lined with products, all of which from designer brands you’d only ever seen on pages of magazines. You examined the tubes and tubs a little closer and noticed that they were all men’s. Only one towel was draped on the warming rack next to the shower, just like only one black bathrobe hung on a hook behind the door, and only one fancy electric toothbrush was plugged in by the sink. To test your budding theory, you picked up the bottle of high-end cologne and gave it a quick sniff. Either all men of this family wore the same scent or… you were in Sakusa’s personal bathroom. It took you a solid minute to debate whether or not to put your cold wet underwear on the towel warmer while you showered, but in the end, you decided what the eye does not see, the heart doesn’t grieve over and moved his towel aside to make space.

Sakusa meanwhile carefully sifted through his closet. It was no use checking his sister’s rooms. They both had rather wispy figures, and even their looser clothes were highly unlikely to fit you. Turning a pair of black socks in his fingers, he now had to realize that his shirts and sweaters weren’t any different. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by having to tell him whatever he picked was too small. And so without further hesitation, Sakusa went into his older brother’s room, stepped over the clutter on the floor, and slid open the wardrobe. His brother was a boxer and built like a tree, so something in here should be big enough for you. Underneath a pile of numerous identical compression shirts, he found a slightly wrinkled, washed-out varsity hoodie and after a little more digging added some gray sweats. Refolding everything neatly and stacking them on top of one another, he brought it to the bathroom and knocked. While the clothes were pushed through the hand-width opening in the door, he told you that he would make some tea and wait in the living room.

Happy shuffles made him lower the book in his hand about 15 minutes later and with an inner pat on his back, he congratulated himself for picking something comfortable for you. A fluffy white towel was wrapped around your head, and you wiggled out of the monogrammed family slippers before settling down on the floor in front of the couch. He cocked a curious brow, wondering if he should slide down to sit next to you or not, but his social awkwardness was interrupted by your blissful sigh.

“Thank you.” You turned around to him with a bright smile and instead of leading on that it temporarily made his train of thought do an emergency break, Sakusa frowned and nodded towards your backpack.

“Oh, right!”

You pulled out your book, notepad, and a pen and flipped to the relevant chapter.

Originally, he suggested his home because, around exam time, the library was filled with the kind of last-minute desperate air of people who had no idea how to prepare and study throughout the semester. Focusing in that atmosphere would be impossible. Little did he know that watching you read, mouthing silently along with the words on the page and the marks left by your lip balm on the teacup was more distracting than anything the library could have thrown at him.

When you untied the towel from your hair, he studied with great interest how you gave it some additional squeezes to dry. You looked so at home sipping on your tea and studying at the coffee table, all bundled up in comfy clothes. He became increasingly aware - and bothered by the fact - that these were his brother’s. Maybe he did have something that would fit you somewhere in his room. Sakusa vaguely shook his head. It would be absurd to ask you to change, especially with no concrete reasoning or alternative readily available.

You could feel him staring. Nervously, you chewed your lips and, without meaning to, kept running your tongue over them. They still tasted like the almond-sugar lip scrub from his shower caddy you hadn’t been able to resist. Undoubtedly he had noticed and was thinking of ways to reprimand you for what was effectively theft! But in the end, you only used a little bit of it. He shouldn’t be mad about it! Maybe it wasn’t about the lip scrub at all, actually. Maybe he was annoyed because you were here in the first place. In his home. Everyone on campus knew how much he valued his personal space, but it wasn’t like you asked to be put on the project with him.

You’d been here less than an hour, and he hardly said more than a dozen words to you since you sat down. Did he already feel like you overstayed your welcome?

When you couldn’t take the silent tension anymore, you asked, “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You hungry?”

“I- am- what?”

“It’s almost dinner time, and we still have a lot of work to do. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet so I’ll order something. Is sushi okay with you?”

You sat back, resting your shoulders against the couch, and crossed your arms.

“Sakusa.”

“Hm?” He looked up from his phone when you turned around, talking more to the sofa cushion than him, in fear of what level of disgust or judgment you’d be met with.

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me?”

He placed the book from his lap on the coffee table and slid down to sit next to you on the floor. His dark eyes found yours and the usual frown appeared on his face.

“Am I usually not nice to you?”

You squinted and clicked your tongue, then hummed in thought, “Uhm… if you ever were, then it was never out loud.”

He studied you for a moment, before unceremoniously saying, “You smell nice.”

You furrowed your brow with a mixture of confusion and pity, “I smell like your shower gel.”

“Well… then I have good taste.”

You couldn’t help but snort and used this opportunity to come clean.

“I used your shampoo, too.”

He nodded. “I figured.”

“And your lip scrub.”

“I see.”

“It’s really good.”

“I know.”

“It’s sold out everywhere, I was just curious.”

“You can keep it.”, he shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you touched it now.”

“Rude.”

He chuckled. “So, dinner?”

a/n: request for @act-nat-ural I’m so sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

[fizzigigsimmer]

The King Unbroken: Part II

I continue to be in a moody place. So sorry to all, you get more of this. For @adelacreations and @dragonflylady77

Steve left his heat den just after sunset, two days earlier than he should. His body feels as if it has been over stretched, the muscle achy and sore as if he’d been through battle even though the only fight he’d had recently is with himself. His jaw hurt the most he thinks, from all the clenching. The broken off section of tree bark that he used to stifle his cries during the worst of it, is riddled with teeth marks but unbroken, so it goes back into a pocket of his tactical pants. Fighting men and scavengers alike know a muffler often comes in handy. 

Before the grey-dogs there were drugs and toys to replace alphas and help ease omega’s heats. Mild heats with minimal side effects had liberated omegas, and Steve’s youth as a twentieth century omega had been defined by independence. Of a degree. It was still expected that he should want to settle down with a nice alpha someday and have pups, but not even his alpha could legally forbid him from having a life and a job outside of that if he wanted it. 

But that was before. Now without heat aids, the days of omegas being chained up and owned like animals are back. They depend more on the pack than anyone for balance, and on alphas in particular to keep from becoming a danger to themselves during their heat. 

Steve’s loath to admit it, but when the need takes hold and his world narrows to pain and fear he actually is little better than an animal. He’s not silly or superstitious enough to believe all the folklore about people turning into wolves – because if they ever did, it’s been hundreds of years since anyone witnessed a true transformation. But the arrival of the grey-dogs has brought out the animal in all of them, changed Steve so much, that he can understand where all those old legends came from.   

He doesn’t go belly down and back arched anymore, because there’s no more soft bed and no one he can trust not to take advantage in order to find relief, even if they offered it. Steve doesn’t purr for anyone who scratches his scalp, like he did for high school friends and girlfriends once upon a time. When the heat takes his mind, it leaves nothing but his ferocious need to keep safe, to survive, until he’s like a werewolf on the full moon, howling and scratching at the walls. He’d attack anyone who was stupid enough to try and offer him comfort at such a time.  Outside of the compound they all make a habit of sleeping in their tactical gear, but Steve’s ruined too many good clothes during heat not to know better by now. 

He’s claggy with sweat and unsteady on his feet like a newborn colt but he pushes through it, assessing the shredded state of his tank and cotton drawers before accepting the underwear is a lost cause. He thinks he can salvage half of the tank top.   

He finished dressing quickly, not wanting to prolong his time bare and vulnerable for a second longer than necessity demands, fetching the big knife from his pack to make strips out of the drawers. It would be better if he could wash them first, but he wasn’t going to waste precious time or water out in the open on something trivial. Slipping the knife into the ready pocket on his combat trousers, Steve check that the velcro straps fastening his nail-bat to his pack weren’t coming undone before hoisting the pack carefully upon his shoulders and setting off.  

He walked a few paces into the woods, away from the opening in the tree and left an old roadside flare glowing on the ground for the others to find, before turning and heading south west as planned. His team is patrolling the perimeter as close as Steve’s heat allowed them to comfortably get, laying low because this is foreign territory. Hargrove’s territory technically, although Steve doubted the alpha had very many people watching this area.  

It’s too far north of his lair for one thing, and it’s too wooded for another which provides ample cover for grey-dogs. If their intel is correct, Hargroves's camp lies north of San Diego somewhere around Kelso, or what used to be. There’s a few hundred miles still between there and here and no good reason for Steve to be so on edge. Nothing besides the paranoia that smelling the sea on the air seems to cause him now.   

The west had fared better than most during the first wave of the grey-dogs. Terrifyingly quick, with rows of curved teeth, tough skin and thick claws, their sole weakness seemed to be their aversion to extreme heat. The casualties in warmer climates had been fewer, and when people had realized that the grey-dogs wouldn’t follow them far into the desert, major colonies had formed there. The usual bullshit had divided them, people fighting over crucial water reserves and other resources, until eventually only a few major populations controlled everything. 

There had been five colonies spread between southern California and the states formerly known as Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico and Colorado of note. Just like everywhere else there were smaller scavenger populations of people scattered throughout the west, but it was those five who drew the territory lines and with whom Steve’s colony had traded essential medicines for citrus, stone, and the crucial mechanical parts that Hawkins needed to keep their facilities running.  

No one had expected that things would change, and that the SoCal colony could fall to a band of raiders – the enemy finding their way somehow around the colony walls and wreaking havoc before the colony could pull itself together to mount a proper defense. The alpha and the pack’s strongest fighters had all been slaughtered before morning, and those people who had not already been killed or fled into the desert had knelt before a new king. Hargrove had declared himself alpha and no one who’d lived to tell about it had argued.  

Taking over such a large compound had provided Hargrove with ample resources to control, but it required a firm hand to keep the conquered in line and prevent a mutiny. It was not surprising that Hargrove spent the majority of his time at SoCal Colony but their spies had reported rumors that not all of Hargrove’s pack had moved into the new compound, that some of them had stayed behind at their old camp in Kelso. Most likely it was to maintain it as an option for retreat if it ever became necessary, but there was talk that Hargrove was keeping something important there. 

Whatever the truth, Kelso was Steve’s destination. Robin, Jonathan and the others had been brave enough to follow him on this suicide mission so he wasn’t about to lead them to certain death by trying to kill Hargrove when he had dozens of fighters at his disposal. They had to draw Billy out, and the obvious answer to that was whatever was so important in Kelso that Billy couldn’t leave behind unguarded. 

He tried to stay alert as he walked, having gotten good at keeping a constant awareness of his surroundings running somewhere in the background of his mind. The last time he’d been caught in a moment of inattention it had nearly cost him an ear, and had ended with dozens of stitches and weeks of painful recovery. The hair on that side of his head no longer grew as thick on account of the scars so he kept the sides around his ears shaved now. Robin said he let the rest of it grow twice as long because he was overcompensating. She was probably right, so sue him, the floof-hawk was one of the few joys Steve had left. 

He wasn’t far from the road when he heard it – the familiar sound of low growls and feet rushing over the dry forest floor. He reached behind himself for the handle of his bat, pulling it free and swinging at the first grey blur that lunged at him from the shadows. Steve had a brief glimpse of tiny rows of glistening teeth as its face began to open up before the blow connected with a wet crunch, batting the squealing creature off to the side. There was no time to check if it was down for good before the next one was coming at him. Steve barely had time to get his bat up, this time only just catching the side of the grey-dog as he danced out of reach, backing up toward the road as his gaze frantically swept around the trees to try and count them all.  

He counted three, including the one he’d already hit. Not so bad. Especially since one had gone straight to cannibalizing the injured. No honor amongst monsters. But that left one still standing, ghoulish grey skin oozing blood from where the nails had torn holes in its side. It reared back on its hind legs and let out an other worldly shriek of rage, enough to chill the blood – but Steve was unphased.  

He tightened his grip on the bat and took a purposeful step forward, boot thudding down hard into the earth as he drew the air into his lungs – and roared. 

“Arrrrrrrrrhhhh!” 

The grey-dog lunged, but he was ready ducking low – they had a tendency to go for the chest and throat – and twisting his torso as he brought the bat up hard. He had only a split second to enjoy the thrill of victory before something struck his side, the last grey-dog colliding so hard against his side that it sent him toppling to the ground. The bat fell from his hand as he fell, and if Steve would have tried to reach for it the fight would have been over. Heart pounding in his chest as the grey face above him opened up into four sections of razor-sharp teeth, Steve reached for the knife in his pocket instead and brought it up into the creatures' throat as its mouth descended.   

When Steve reached the edge of the road splitting the wood, he was grateful to hear the rare sound of a running engine. A dangerous sound, unless you happened to be expecting it.  

The jeep was crawling down the middle of the road ahead of him when Steve stumbled out onto it, Jonathan at the wheel, front beams slicing through the semi-dark that had fallen.  

“A-hoy!” Steve cupped hands over his mouth and called, grimacing as some of the sticky blood coating them smeared on his face. Gross. The jeep came to a stop and Robin’s slender white arm (he could tell by the striped sleeves) jutted out of one of the back windows and waved him forward with an urgency that spoke for itself. Noise and blood were all good ways to attract grey-dogs, and even with an armored jeep there was only so much they could do if a swarm was nearby.  

Steve jogged to catch up, on high alert for more grey-dogs. He didn’t let down his guard even when Jonathan had reached across the seat to open the passenger side door. It wasn’t until he’d closed the heavy door and he heard it lock behind him that Steve finally let himself slump back into the seat with a shuddered breath, closing his eyes in relief. 

“Steve! What happened?” Robin bellowed in his good ear, leaning forward to squeeze her torso between the two front seats.  

“You look like shit, Dude!” Dustin chimed in from where he was squeezed in next to Robin in the prized middle seat. If something got through the window, he wouldn’t die first.  

“Smell like it too.” Lucas grumbled from the window, pinching his nose. From the very back row Gabe, Eleven and Jonathan’s younger brother Will stared ahead with uncertain gazes. 

“Got ambushed by a pack of grey-dogs,” Steve explained nudging Robin’s concerned face out of his with his elbow. “But I handled it. Relax, would you.” She rolled her eyes but sat back with a sigh as Jonathan started up the jeep again.  

“Excuse me for worrying Your Highness, when you left the den two days earlier than scheduled. What gives?” 

“We don’t know how much longer Hargrove will be in SoCal, that’s what gives.” Jonathan guessed, his eyes straying from the road just long enough to meet Steve’s.  

Steve nodded in affirmation and Jonathan’s lips tightened in something close to disapproval but he said nothing. Regardless of what he thought of Steve’s choices – he got it. But after what had happened to his mom Steve had no doubt he would. 

“We can’t afford to lose any more time than we already have.” he said, ignoring the worry clinging to all of their scents. The air was thick with it. 

“And you’re sure the heat’s broken?” Robin pressed, “You’re not going to have a flare up an hour from now an get yourself killed?” 

“You know what my heats are like. I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you if it hadn’t.” he reassured her, but even still she continued to glare at him for what felt like forever, until she finally relented with a small nod.  

“Fine. But can we at least crack open a window? You really do reek.” 

“Not till we’re out of the woods.” She groaned when Jonathan shot her down. The jeep was military grade and the windows bullet resistant, but that didn’t mean they were impenetrable and trees could hide more than just grey-dogs.   

“This is the perfect spot for a raid.” Will mused from the back and Jonathan raised his head to catch his eye in the rearview. 

“Says the raider.” 

Steve’s mouth twitched into a smile, thinking that it took one to know one. 

[Link to Part One]

[definegirlfriends]

NIALL SENT ME A HOODIE TO CELEBRATE THE ANNIVERSARY OF HEARTBREAK WEATHER !! SCREAMING !!!

[bunnis-monsters]

Haunted

Male!Yandere Poltergeist x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober

Oct 13th

Oct 12

Oct 14

summary: when you’re dared to go to a haunted house, you bring something inhuman back with you.

warnings: dubcon, somno, breeding, belly bulge, pregnancy

A/N: this is a 6k word commission!!

When your friends dared you to check out a haunted house, of course you accepted. You were never one to turn down a dare, even if you were afraid.

Tying back your hair, you made sure you packed your flashlight and water before tying your shoes and heading out.

It had been rainy recently. Puddles littered the ground, and the sky was a sad gray. The news reporter mentioned a thunderstorm that night… but you shrugged it off.

‘I’ll be home before then, everything is going to be okay. As long as I make it out before 8 pm, I can be back at my apartment before it’s too stormy to walk home safely.’

In the past few years, you had taken an interest in the paranormal, occasionally visiting haunted hot spots and taking a look. Your friends said they found it creepy and dangerous, but now they were daring you to go check out an abandoned building… maybe they were changing their minds?

You stopped as the sidewalk ended and wild grass began. It seemed no one cleaned and maintained the sidewalk past this point, allowing the grass to become overgrown.

‘That’s inconvenient. Hope I don’t slip…’

Taking careful steps, you wandered further down the road, making sure to be aware of your surroundings. You weren’t exactly in a great part of town, there had even recently been a robbery in a neighborhood nearby.

But from what you heard from your friends, most people steered clear of the haunted house, fearing that they would be cursed if they stepped in.

You, however, were far from afraid. In fact, you were super excited to see if the rumors were true! Of course you were a bit nervous, but it paled in comparison to your excitement.

The abandoned house before you was two stories high, with large windows covered in boards that had been nailed in after a few break-ins.

You could tell the house had been white at some point in time, but now it was almost a grayish yellow, the paint chipping away to reveal the wood underneath.

The porch had a few holes which you attempted to avoid, but yelped when you stepped on a weak floorboard and fell through.

Thankfully you were able to pull your foot out of the toe easily with only a few scratches on your ankle.

As you walked in, the smell of decay and rot hit your nose, making you cover it with your sleeve. The house had been abandoned for years now, and if you hadn’t known, you’d think it had never been lived in at all.

Perhaps items had been stolen, or maybe nothing had ever been there in teb first place, because the house was bare. No furniture or personal items besides a few chairs and tables on the first floor… there aren’t even any appliances in the kitchen.

“I guess even the oven was taken.”

You glanced around the kitchen, noticing a space meant for an oven, but lacking one. “I wonder if it’s different upstairs…”

Climbing up the steps wasn’t easy, and you feared you would fall with each step you climbed. Your foot even fell through one, nearly knocking you off balance!

“Crap! Agh… maybe I shouldn’t go upstairs…”

But… you had to. You weren’t sure why, but something was drawing you upstairs, beckoning you to explore…

When you finally reached the top of the staircase, you sighed in relief. At least the flooding looked stable enough, no holes and the boards weren’t too creaky…

There were three doors to explore, and you decided to look into the closest one first.

The door was plain white, and upon opening it you were met with a pretty basic bedroom. A bed and a dresser, with a broken lamp sitting on a nightstand.

The next room was mostly empty, only a bare bed with a few leaves that flew in from the broken window.

The last room wasn’t easy to get into. You struggled with the doorknob for a moment, then broke it. That allowed you to get in, but you did feel bad breaking something without a good reason.

Walking into the room, the first thing you noticed was how clean it was.

There wasn’t a spec of dust on the bed or nightstand, as if someone had been keeping everything meticulously clean. This was a stark contrast to the other dirty, disheveled rooms covered in dust and debris that was common for a long since abandoned house.

You tread lightly, knowing that upper floors in old houses like these could sometimes be dangerous. The wood could have rotted, or maybe termites chewed through and created thin spots in the floor.

A shimmer out of the corner of your eye made you turn. On the nightstand was a silver locket, shining I’m the evening sun.

“Oh wow, is that real silver?”

You picked it up, turning it in the light to get a good look at it. It seemed to be well taken care of, but it was jammed shut. Despite you trying to open it multiple times, you couldn’t seem to.

Suddenly it felt… strangely warm, and had a slight tremble to it. The locket almost felt like it was.. pulsating…

You felt a strange urge to take it with you…

“Well… no one has lived here for years. It… shouldn’t matter if I take it home.”

After tucking it away in your pocket, you made it downstairs and got ready to leave.

For a moment you considered staying longer and exploring the basement and backyard, but suddenly your thigh felt like it was burning!

You yelped, running outside and reaching into your pocket. The second you were outside of the house, the burning feeling was gone.

Had the locket suddenly become hot or were you just imagining things?

Regardless, you decided that going home was for the best. It was getting late after all, and you weren’t a fan of being outside when it got dark out.

As it started to sprinkle lightly right as you got home, you were grateful you left when you did. You might have been trapped in that old house for the night if you had explored any further.

A strange thought came to your head just then. Did… the locket know it was going to rain?

‘That’s ridiculous…’ you thought to yourself as you changed out of your damp clothes, looking at the locket while you turned on the shower.

‘It’s just a necklace…’

You stepped in, letting the water wash over your body and warm you up. It felt nice, after exploring such an old and dusty house to get all clean and watch the dirt wash away.

You placed a hand over your soft belly, rubbing the soap inyo your skin. “Mmm…”

The shower was relaxing for a bit, but you nearly jumped out of your skin when you caught something in your peripheral vision.

There was a tall, dark figure standing behind the shower curtain, seemingly… facing away from you?

You quickly pulled back the curtain, holding a shampoo bottle as a weapon… but no one was there.

‘… maybe I’ve been watching too many horror movies. Going to that old house has me feeling anxious.”

You wrapped a towel around your body, trying to ignore the horrible feeling in your gut. It was like your body was screaming at you that someone was there and you were being watched.

‘I’ll feel better after I eat something. I’ll watch a comedy movie, that should calm me down at least a little bit.’

Once the TV was on, the towel wrapped around your body dropped to the floor, leaving you completely bare.

Before you could get dressed, you felt like there were eyes on you again. It made you feel self conscious, like you were being stared at without your knowledge.

You hurriedly ran to your closet, throwing on a pair of panties and an oversized shirt to cover yourself.

“H-hello? Is anyone there? I… can feel you staring at me…”

There was no answer, just the sound of thunder outside. You felt stupid, it was probably just the paranoia from being in that stupid abandoned house still making you think someone was watching you!

‘This is stupid…’

You huffed, settling into your bed and watching some TV. There was no one in your home, you were completely safe and that was that!

At least… that’s what you kept telling yourself. Even as you finally relaxed a bit and got ready for bed, you still felt an aching sensation in your gut telling you something was wrong, that you had brought some kind of curse of demon home with you from that abandoned house.

But even so, you were too tired to make a fuss and decided to go to bed. It was late and you needed sleep for the class you had tomorrow! You didn’t want to be late again…

You drifted off, clutching your pillow as the locket on your nightstand shone in the moonlight. It was the last thing you saw before you fell asleep.

When you awoke in the middle of the night, something felt wrong. It was nighttime so it was normal for it to be dark… but usually at least a bit of moonlight shone through your sheer curtains.

But as you glanced around your room with your groggy eyes, you could barely make out your furniture in the overbearing darkness…

You were so confused with how dark it was that you didn’t even notice the figure staring down at you until you laid back down.

“Ah-!”

Your mouth was covered, and you shook in fear as your body was paralyzed with fear. All you could do was tremble and stare up into the… handsome face of a dark haired man.

“Don’t scream. Not here to hurt you…” he murmured, holding a finger to his lips.

He sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I wasn’t expecting you to wake up all of a sudden… it’s dangerous for a girl to be living on her own, you know? But don’t worry…”

He moved his hand from your mouth to your hair, ruffling it. “Your big brother is looking out for you.”

You watched on in shock as he placed the locket in your hand, then slowly faded away. That man… he just disappeared? What!?

It wasn’t easy going back to sleep, but you were beyond exhausted and had a class in the morning. Who was that man… and why had he called himself your big brother?

In the morning, you thought you had left the locket behind in the trash. You threw it away the second you woke up, hoping that would stop whatever was happening.

But alas, as you walked towards your college campus and reached into your pocket to take out your phone, you felt the familiar cool surface of the silver locket.

“Fuck.”

You spotted your friends standing outside of the building, and you jogged over to meet them.

“Hey guys!”

They turned, some frowning while the others put up a half assed smile. “Hey. Did you go to the haunted house last night?”

You nodded, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah… it was pretty scary. I didn’t stay for too long.”

The leader frowned. She tapped against her school binder with her sharp acrylic nails. “Really? You couldn’t even stay the night?”

You shrunk under her judging gaze, your eyes on the floor. “You didn’t say I had to stay the night…”

She scowled. “I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s obvious, dumbass. You want to be a part of our sorority, you have to do the dares just like the other initiates. We let you try, even though you’re…”

The woman looked down at your belly, then back to your face. “Tubby. Just be grateful.”

You nodded, looking away from her. “Alright… I’m sorry.”

As soon as you apologized, the woman smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about it. You didn’t stay the night, but you still went to the house. So…”

She pulled out a card. “Here’s the official invitation to one of our parties. It’s in your honor.”

You beamed, grabbing hold of the letter. “Oh wow, really? I thought I still had more to do…”

“Shh, you’ve done enough. Just be there on time, okay? We have something special planned for you.”

You all got settled in your seats, and you left to use the bathroom. You were so excited, you’d finally get to join the best sorority on campus!

But as soon as you were out of earshot, the group of girls started giggling. “God, she’s so gullible. She really thinks we’d let someone like her into our sorority.”

The leader leaned back in her chair, folding her legs. “As soon as she steps through the door, we’ll all throw food at our little piggy. Hell, maybe she’ll get on the ground and start eating everything we’ve thrown at her.”

They all laughed, other students glancing at them in annoyance and disgust. But they all knew that trying to go against them was a suicide mission. The leader’s father was the sheriff, and she was a daddy’s girl.

The locket pulsed with anger from your backpack, emitting an uncomfortable heat. The entity in your locket had heard every single word…

And he wouldn’t let them do that to you.

As you walked home after class, you yelped when a man materialized next to you. He kept a hand on your waist, guiding you home.

“Y-you’re the man from last night…”

He nodded, keeping you close as he walked. “I am. You have some… interesting friends.”

“…”

You weren’t stupid, you knew they weren’t good friends, but your mother and grandmother had been in that sorority, and you wanted to make them proud.

“… they’re not all that bad. They’re throwing me a party this weekend…”

He didn’t answer, his grip on your waist tightening. “You shouldn’t go.”

You frowned. “I don’t really have a choice. If I don’t go, there’s no way I’m getting into the sorority.”

The ghost sighed, walking into your home with you.

“W-wait!”

You grabbed the locket out of your bag. “Why… aren’t I freaking out? You’re that weird ghost thing! Get out of my house.”

But you didn’t feel scared, there was a strange calmness in your chest that made you feel uneasy.

He approached, and you began to feel almost tired, lethargic.

“It’s because I’m keeping you calm. Last night your heart rate spiked and you were terrified of my very presence, so I’ve been doing my best to eliminate your fears and anxieties.”

He brushed back your hair, his touch cool on your flushed skin. “Easy… it’s strange, I know… but I’m not here to hurt you. I’m keeping you safe, remember?”

That night you stayed up late researching ghosts and other supernatural phenomena. Not much turned up for ghosts being able to control your emotions… just the average poltergeists throwing shit around and scaring the life out of people.

This ghost seemed more like a guardian angel than a poltergeist, but you had no idea why he was protecting you or what from.

You ended up drifting off with your laptop still on. The ghost materialized beside you, his eyes moving over your figure.

Your body was soft and fragile, unlike the younger siblings he had taken care of during his life. He’d been the oldest of seven brothers, and had never gotten the chance to be with a girl, much less watch one sleep.

When you picked up his locket, he felt an instant connection to you. Many people had stolen the silver locket before, but he simply haunted them until they returned it to the haunted house.

His resting place.

With you, though? His heart felt heavy at the very thought of anything hurting you. He wanted to protect you, to watch over you every second of the day and hold you close…

So… he must have loved you like a sibling then, right?

He had never been in love before, the only love he ever experienced was the brotherly love he had for his younger siblings.

He needed to know more about women, what they needed and how they acted. You were almost like a different species to him at this point…

So he glanced at your laptop before slowly sliding it towards him. It took him a few minutes to learn how it worked, but thankfully he had been watching you like a hawk as you typed away earlier and had a basic understanding.

He died nearly a hundred years ago, so without that he would have been clueless! The ghost was smart though, and began searching for answers regarding the female gender.

First, he looked up the definition, nodding along as if it was new information to him. Then, he thought for a moment…

What else did he want to know?

‘Well… if she gets injured, I should know what her anatomy is like so I can help her.’

During his time, many people said women and men were completely different, so he wanted to know. Searching through the internet, he looked up the anatomy of a female body…

Most of it was diagrams of internal organs and bone structure… and then he found something… intriguing.

A picture of a vagina, fingers pulling back the lips to reveal the glistening clit. His body reacted to the picture, and he found himself feeling confused.

His heart raced against his rib cage, his throat dry as his shaky hands typed out the name of the female sex organ.

‘Vagina…’

So many pictures popped up, and his eyes went wide with the variety of different shaped, colored, and sized pussies on screen. He felt his cock twitch in his pants when he stumbled upon a certain gif.

A woman’s wet cunt hovered over a fat cock, slowly lowering herself onto it, letting it stretch her out.

He glanced at you, his eyes moving down your form and to your loose lounge shorts. What did your pussy look like..?

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. ‘No… I… shouldn’t think things like that… I have to protect her.’

But even as those thoughts echoed through his head, he couldn’t help but inch closer, slowly pulling back the loose fabric of your shorts and looking at the soft outline of your pretty cunt.

He let out a shaky breath, slowly pulling back your panties to get a good look at you.

His cock twitched, aching as he stared down at your pussy for the very first time. This… was perplexing. His entire body was telling him to touch and feel you for himself, to spread open your pussy lips and see your cute, perky clit…

He was so confused, his body hot as he struggled to control his urges. What did he feel for you? Why did he want to court you, to kiss your plump lips and slip his fingers inside of you?

Images of you splayed out on the bed, your legs spread wide open to give him a nice view appeared in his wandering mind.

Your fingers moved over your clit, rubbing and circling it, before you moved down to your wet hole, slowly inserting a finger…

He shook his head, looking down to see his cock hard and pressing against his pants, wanting to be let out. He bit his lip, walking over to look at your lovely sleeping face. The ghost hesitantly pulled out his cock, stroking it shyly over your face.

Right before he came he stepped back, cumming all over your blanket. It was sticky and strangely cold, his flushed and body relaxed as he panted softly.

That felt way too good…

Before he knew what he was doing, he curiously leaned forward and licked your cheek. You tasted so lovely, he couldn’t help but move his tongue down your body, to your clothed breast and finally to your soft tummy.

He planted a kiss there, before he slowly but surely slipped off your shorts. You woke up right as he gave your pussy a curious lick, your mouth being covered before you could scream.

Was this it? Was he finally showing his true colors and ready to devour you whole. You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to feel the pain of his teeth on your body, but instead felt soft lips on your clit.

When you peeked at him, he looked up eagerly, as if waiting for you to teach and guide him through this. He wasn’t trying to hurt you… he was just curious.

You whined softly, slowly moving his head and hiding his tongue to your hole, letting out a breathy sigh as he slipped his tongue in. It felt so damn good, you were close to cumming already.

Not understanding that your orgasm was close, he pulled away right before you could cum, his lips glazed over with your juices and his eyes wide with excitement. “D-did I do good?”

You groaned in frustration, grabbing him by the hair and guiding him back, finally riding out your high on his tongue.

He seemed eager to please, and just so curious about your body… after you were done, he sat on your bed and played with your hair, watching over you as you drifted off.

When you woke up, he was gone again. The lovely was sitting on your nightstand, and when you sat up and yawned, he appeared.

He was a bit shy from your encounter last night, holding a few flowers in his hand. After you put them in a vase, you realized that they were stolen from your neighbor’s lawn… but the effort was still cute.

That day, he followed you around while you completed your chores, giving you a dopey smile and causing minor accidents for whatever poor soul dared to approach you.

He was getting more possessive by the day, disliking when any male spoke to you for longer than a few seconds. You were his, didn’t they understand that!?

When someone walked by you, a flower pot would fall into their feet or a rock would move to trip them.

It was confusing, seeing all these people end up hurt or hospitalized all the time. You wondered if you might be cursed…

You were chatting with a handsome barista when the coffee pot next to him suddenly tipped over, spilling boiling coffee all over him.

“A-are you okay!?”

While trying to help him, suddenly he slipped on a puddle of water that hadn’t been there before.

Your ghost friend stayed invisible, pouring a cup of water on the floor just moments before…

After multiple tests, you realized you were the only one that could see the ghost. You weren’t sure if he was brought on by some kind of stress from working so hard or perhaps you really were being haunted. Either way, you could never tell anyone about him. People would think you were crazy, and you didn’t want to get locked away in an asylum forever.

But strangely, your little ghost friend wasn’t that bad of a houseguest. He never made a mess, watched over you while you slept, and even when there were some break ins next door, you were the only one spared.

He really was protecting you.

“I’m… going out today.”

You looked up from your breakfast, watching as your ghost roommate materialized in front of you. Going out? He was always by your side…

“Really? Are you like… moving on to the next plain of existence or something?”

He chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Am I that annoying, hmm? No, I’ve just got some business to attend to.”

He smiled, ruffling your hair affectionately before fading away into nothing, leaving you to wonder what a ghost would do for business.

The ghost stood over another corpse, his body free of blood due to his incorporable form. It was one of the girls who had been planning to humiliate you.

Her jaw was ripped from its socket, tangling from her disfigured face. He glanced down at her phone, picking it up and looking over the contacts.

The leader on his list… and he was saving her for last.

The news of the sorority murders had the entire campus paranoid. Police suspected a serial killer was on the loose and targeting young girls in the sorority, so you found yourself at the station, being questioned during a quiet October day.

“And that was the last time you saw her?” asked the officer, holding up a picture of the latest victim.

You gave him a nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Yes… I hope my information can be useful, have you gotten any leads yet?”

“That information is confidential, ma’am, but rest assured we’ll catch the sick son of a bitch responsible for this.”

You were driven home by one of the officers, and walked in feeling exhausted. The entire week was weighing down on you, and you only felt safe when your ghost roommate greeted you.

“Welcome home…” he murmured, reaching forward to gently caress your cheek. “You’ve been crying… did someone hurt you?”

The way he asked sent a shiver down your spine. “No… it’s just…”

You sat down, his fingers rubbing circles into your back as you spoke. “All of my friends have been killed… and I don’t know what to do…”

You couldn’t see the smirk on his face, but you felt the way his grip tightened on your hips, rocking them slightly. “It’s sad, but you have me, love. That’s all you need…”

Before you could speak, he had you laying on your back, his hands pinning down your wrists. “Those friends weren’t good people, love… I can protect you, take care of you. Provide for you…”

His fingers traced down your body, to your belly. The ache in his gut returned, and his mind was filled with images of your belly swelling up, being heavy and full with his baby… would it matter that your friends were dead when you were waddling around, pregnant and happy?

You whimpered softly, feeling his teeth graze your neck as he palmed his erection. “I realized… that I really love you. That day you picked up my locket… was basically our wedding day.”

His lips crashed into yours, teeth and tongues clashing as the kiss became rough and passionate. These last few weeks had been torture, watching you speak to other people, having to be away from you for even a second was the worst.

“M-Mmph!”

You were getting wet from all this attention, your body feeling warm as he stripped you of your clothes. But you felt guilty, here you were making out with a ghost while your friends were dead and/or in danger!

“N-not now-“

You yelped, his fingers pressing against the wet fabric of your panties. Already you were soaking wet, your face heating up in shame.

“Not now? But you’re so wet… you want this, you know you do…”

Your whines and protest went unheard as he slipped his fingers into your cunt, and no matter how much you squirmed he kept you still as he lapped softly at your clit.

“Pretty girl, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

You came on his tongue and fingers several times, your hole clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit, his hands keeping your thighs spread open.

“You want me to fuck you, hmm? Wanna feel my cum fill you all the way up?”

You let out a pathetic whine as he rubbed his tip against your wet cunt, your eyes full of pleasured tears. The man wasn’t sure he could get you pregnant, he was a ghost after all, but god damn it he was going to try his best!

The feeling of him slowly pushing into your virgin hole was… strange. Painful, a stretch that you had never felt before, yet oddly… a sense of pleasure began to set in as he bottomed out.

He cooed softly, his hand moving over your soft belly, his eyes on your pretty cunt as it took his cock. “That’s my good girl…”

He started slow, not wanting to hurt his darling. Thrusting in and out, almost agonizing in the way his cock moved inside of your gummy walls.

Soon he couldn’t take it, the need to breed his lovely darling taking over. He pushed your legs up, beginning to fuck you in a mating press as his lips met yours.

“F-fuck, that’s it… take it, let me knock you up…”

He was desperate, almost like a wild animal, and determined to get you pregnant. He didn’t care if he was a ghost or not, he was planting his seed in your belly.

A family with you was all he could ever want, getting to see you hold his little one in your arms and waddle around with a cute pregnant belly… just the thought of being the one to knock you up had him spurting out thick, ectoplasm like cum into your womb.

“C-can’t get pregnant!” you whimpered out, wiggling nervously. “Gotta finish college…”

“Quiet, darling…”

He panted softly, looking down at you for a moment as his hips continued to fit into yours. You looked beautiful now, with your face flushed and eyes hazy from pleasure. If he could, he’d take a picture so he could always remember you in this state of utter bliss.

“I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry your pretty little head…”

Even after finishing inside of you again, your ghost lover wasn’t quite done with you. He stood, holding you up in a full Nelson while fucking into you. Your belly was starting to distend, so full of his cum that your pussy drooled.

Your neck was sensitive from all the hickeys he had left, and you could barely think while his cock pushed in as deep as it could go, kissing your cervix. He had you look down and watch as his cock moved in and out of your, your pretty pussy clenching around him in yet another orgasm.

“A-Ah!”

Soft whines and whimpers left your throat. It couldn’t be helped, there was a bulge in your tummy now, his cum had stuffed you full. “C-can’t… take anymore…”

He kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. “Just a little more, darling… shh, just take it…”

He rubbed your clit, cooing at you like you were a toddler throwing a tantrum. Your leg twitched with the sudden stimulation he was giving your clit, and you can again, your body sore from the multiple orgasms you’ve already had.

The love making lasted long into the night, and you found yourself passing out after cumming nearly 10 times…

But your lover’s night was far from over. After cleaning you up a little and placing a blanket over your naked form so you wouldn’t catch a cold, he set out to see to his unfinished business…

The leader was terrified, holed up in her bedroom alone as her father patrolled the house. Everyone else in her friend group was dead, leaving her the final girl on his list.

He watched her from the window, smirking as her father walked around, oblivious to the danger his snot nosed brat was in.

She got up, sighing. “That creep won’t get past dad. I bet that stupid girl has something to do with this. Even if she doesn’t, if I say the word she’ll be sent to prison.”

The ghost sneered at her words. She really planned to send his innocent lover to prison? Any hesitation he may have had was gone instantly.

He followed her to the bathroom, frowning in disgust as she disrobed. She was nowhere near as gorgeous as you were, he simply wasn’t interested in any other woman than you.

“Ahh…”

Once she settled into the bath, he took his chance and started to cause the light to flicker. This caused her to jump, nearly slipping on the slick bottom of the tub.

“H-hello?”

A soft whisper in her ear made her turn, her eyes wide with terror. “I-if there’s anyone here, you better go before my dad sees you! He’s the sheriff and if I scream-“

“He won’t be able to hear you.”

Hands wrapped around her throat, restricting her air flow. Suddenly she was able to see him, his appearance that of what he looked like when he died.

His black hair was stringy, his clothes ripped and torso torn apart to reveal his rotting organs.

“You should have been more careful. You messed with someone I love, and for that, you’ll pay with your life.”

Unable to scream, her vision went black, and her body limp. He let her sink into the tub, a few bubbles escaping before the bubbles stopped.

In a flash, he was back to his handsome self, a smile on his lips. “My darling is free now…”

You woke up to your TV being switched on, the news reporter staring into the camera with a sorrowful gaze. “Another girl from the local sorority has been killed. While police investigated the premises, they found multiple books full of images of other girls forced into humiliation ritual, along with evidence of her father, the sheriff, helping her cover her crimes up. He is on paid le-“

You shut off the TV, feeling both relieved you hadn’t attended that party, and sad that she died. She wasn’t a good person, you knew that, but you were, and it hurt your heart to see someone die so young.

“Hello, my darling…”

You felt a cold hand brush against your belly. There was still a bulge there from all the cum that had been stuffed into you the night before.

“Sleep well, my darling?”

The ghost kissed your temple, nuzzling against you. “I guess… I’m still pretty tired though.”

He moved to gently massage your sore spots, eyes fixed on your tummy. “Sorry, I think I may have gotten… carried away.”

His grip on you tightened, and the air felt a little colder. “You understand that you’re mine, correct? That moment you picked up that locket, we were tied together for eternity. You can’t get rid of me, I’ll always return to you…”

His fingers dug into your flesh. “And if you want your future to be a happy one, you’ll learn to accept things. I don’t want to hurt my precious one, after all… not like those other girls.”

It didn’t look like you had much of a choice in the matter. You could either accept that this was your life now, or end up like the sorority girls. Little did you know he was bluffing a bit. He would never actually harm you, but he wasn’t against scaring you into thinking he would.

As the years passed by, you got used to your life with him. He was much too possessive for you to go out and see people other than your family, meaning you had to give up college or see people get hurt on your behalf.

But lately he’s calmed down a little… since he’s a father now.

He smiled as you walked down the street, holding your 3 year old’s hand. Your little one was a curious thing, loving to go to the park and take walks in the woods near your home.

As you walked down the path, an elderly couple stopped you to coo at your son. You glanced at your now husband to gauge his expression, and he seemed to be okay with it.

“Oh, how cute!”

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile. “He looks just like his father.”

As you walked home, your little one disappeared from the sight of other mortals, hovering in the air with your husband. He was half ghost after all, it made sense he could do things other kids couldn’t.

Your lover smiled softly, his hand moving over your belly as he watched your son chase a butterfly.

“… about time for our second little one, isn’t it?”

Looks like you were in for another passionate night.

————————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @swasti8854 @an-ever-angry-bi

[mimiii-3]

My Baby Brother

Platonic Batfam/Damian x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: slight angst, reader is Bruce’s biological child but I imagine that the reader can be any color, shape, size, etc.

The peanut gallery filed into the living room one by one. Each brother looking as disinterested as the next to sit for one of Bruce’s family portraits.

Dick, Tim, and Damian moved to encircle your father sitting in an obsidian-colored velvet armchair. You shifted awkwardly to the right to avoid Damian shoulder-checking you.

You looked to Damian to find him already watching you. The corner of your lips twitched into a wry smile but quickly faded as Damian’s green eyes narrowed.

It felt like only yesterday that he would look at you in complete adoration. Your sweet baby brother doubling as your only friend. Now he looks at you as if you’re nothing more than a stain on his perfect life.

Damian’s initial love of you seemed to stem from the fact that you were the only other biological child of Bruce. He gravitated to the oldest “legitimate” (as he so lovingly put) when he first arrived at the manor.

He would join you for walks in the garden or reading in the library. He considered you to be exceedingly simple but at least you were held in higher esteem than your older brothers.

It wasn’t until he joined Bruce and Tim on their nightly patrols that the family dynamic changed. You were left alone in the library and the garden as Damian trained and fought alongside his new brothers.

You had reached out to Damian a few times since the change. You could only tolerate asking him for book recommendations or offering to paint with him for so long. You began to pull away, sensing the impending hurt.

The loneliness stung at first but over the months, melted into a twisted sort of calm. You found peace knowing that he hated you almost as much a you loved him.

As you reminisce, you look back at Damian and his pouty little face. Your smile returns only more relaxed and genuine. This seems to throw him off guard and he hurriedly looks back to the painter and their easel.

He moves closer to the armchair and away from your side. The painter waives their hand indicating for you to scooch closer to the family.

You take two steps to the left and lightly place your hand on Damian’s shoulder. You feel him tense but you keep your hand steady. The sound of the wood crackling in the fireplace pairs nicely with the gentle stroke of the brush against the easel.

The next few hours creep by and your brothers flee the living room, glad to be away from the intensely boring get together. Your father follows suit and Alfred waits by the door as the painter begins to pack their belongings.

You make your way to the other side of the easel to take a gander at their handiwork. The painting is stunning. The rich, warm hues of the room pair nicely with the striking features of your family.

Your gaze make its way over to the side of the portrait with you and Damian. Your graceful smiles and close proximity remind you of the happier days with Damian.

You nod appreciatively at the painter and slip out of the living room. You look down the hall and watch Damian as he walks alongside Tim and Dick. You turn around and make your way back to the quiet corner of the manor that holds your room.

You shake off the expensive scarf you had been wearing for the painting and scan your room. Brown boxes covered in a scribbled mess of sharpie tower around the room.

All of your belongings packed and ready to go for tomorrow’s 10am pickup from Winslows’ Moving and Storage. An appointment you scheduled without any of your family’s knowledge.

You found a quaint cottage over in Ivy Town for an “affordable” price. It would be a downgrade from the manor but maybe that’s what you needed.

A break from the paparazzi and the crushing weight of expectations. A break from an absent father and an overbearing bat. A break from the glares and scowls shot by your brothers. You will make new friends that aren’t highly trained assassins and have a normal, happy life.

Yes, this is exactly what you needed. A fresh start at a new home and a new university. You know you will miss Damian and Alfred dearly but this is what’s best.

Even though you will be leaving everything you know behind, you can leave knowing one thing. No matter how much he hates you, Damian will always be your baby brother.

Extra notes: trying to shake off the dust from my very long hiatus hehe. I feel like this fic could easily turn yandere🤔

[reidmotif]

Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)

Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion. 

Mine happened to be a badly placed window. 

Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold. 

Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers,  and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be. 

And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him. 

I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep,  so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last. 

What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence. 

He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon. 

While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means.  I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was. 

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact. 

Him. The man in the window. 

“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod. 

“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other. 

“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice. 

“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately. 

There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit. 

I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin.  “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient. 

“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds. 

There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion. 

The man in the window was hot.

He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names. 

“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment. 

“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands. 

I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.

It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex. 

I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me. 

And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right? 

So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor.  I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do.  I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win. 

And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties. 

It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this,  literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach. 

Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.

 It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow. 

It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right? 

Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.

It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks,  the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit. 

My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own,  mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer. 

That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation. 

I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.  

Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for? 

I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered. 

After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come. 

Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do? 

I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.

As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything. 

Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes. 

Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed. 

“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep. 

I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave. 

“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me. 

Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to. 

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed? 

“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost. 

I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that? 

There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever.  If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly. 

I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it. 

“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.” 

A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief. 

He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs. 

“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body. 

“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.” 

His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him? 

 It was so fucking hot. 

“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?” 

I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth. 

“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.” 

I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there. 

“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.” 

Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me. 

“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation. 

“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.” 

There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer. 

I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem. 

I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me. 

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock.  “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm. 

“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder. 

“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?” 

I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?” 

“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.

“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?” 

“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.” 

I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit.  “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.” 

“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.” 

A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.

 “Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip. 

A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday. 

All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted. 

woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3

also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, he whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

[himbodruid]

Silent Poem

Zayne returns home to find you fast asleep in his bed. You help each other…relax. 😏

An expansion of Zayne’s Silent Poem Secret Times (some lines removed because try as i might, i couldnt make them fit)

Zayne x Reader

-:- massage leads to other things -:- clothed sex lol -:- body worship Zayne -:- sweet talkin mofo -:-

Fic Master List

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a night filled with laughter over dinner, but dusk gave way to twilight in what felt like a handful of seconds. Doctor Zayne had called with his apologies, stating that an emergency surgery had come up and he would be home late. Dinner was packed away to be saved for another time, and you curled up on his sofa with the silly games you thoroughly enjoyed on your phone. You understood how it was. After all, you had to do the same to him several times as well. It didn’t bother you one bit- you would just wait until he got home, embrace him, and usher him off to bed for much-needed rest.

It wasn’t long before you started to nod off and you checked the time, noting that it was nearing midnight. There was no telling when Zayne would be home, but the two of you had shared a bed for some time now. You knew he wouldn’t mind if you slipped between the sheets to take a quick nap before he got home.

You changed into your long night shirt and were lost to the waking world when Zayne snuck into the room. He took light steps until he was at the bedside, peering down at you with softness in his gaze. The glass of water he held was placed quietly on the bedside table and he sat at the edge of the bed. He marveled at your beauty, wondering how he could have ever been so lucky to have someone like you in his life. Lost to these thoughts, he leaned forward and kissed you. Just a gentle brush of his lips against yours while you slept.

You inhaled sharply, startled awake by the unexpected contact. When you opened your eyes, you saw Zayne’s smiling face in the dimmed lamp light and relaxed back into the pillows.

“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”

You smiled lazily at him. “Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you just getting in? It’s so late!”

“Yes. It’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”

He leaned over to kiss you softly again, and you chased his lips until you were sitting up in the bed. Worry raced through you when he pulled away and slumped against your shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh. You observed his face more closely and noticed exhaustion and tension bracketing his mouth and eyes. His arm lazily circled your waist, and your own came around him to embrace him back.

“Zayne?” You asked softly.

“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”

“You should relax more,” you murmured to him.

“Me?” He called you out with that one simple word and you huffed a laugh.

“Alright, we should relax more.”

“But how exactly…will you help me relax?” He lifted his head from your shoulder and stared at you intently with those eyes that held the depth of a forest. You watched as his gaze drifted to your lips and then back up, and you felt a blush spread across your face. What a strange time for shyness to strike, especially since intimacy was not new between you.

You push him away from you a moment so you could escape the covers. Kneeling over him, you started pushing his jacket off his shoulders and began working at his shirt, all while completely ignoring the intense way he watched your chest waving in front of his face.

Once his shirt was loosened enough, you dug your fingers into the muscle that made up the slope of his neck. You remember him telling you it was called the trapezius at some point, and how it was where he carried all of his stress. The moment your fingers dug into that brick wall of a muscle, he let loose a heavy sigh that was nearing a moan.

“Mmmh…massage. I see…” he grumbled with a smile.

“Yes, what else were you thinking?” You raised your brow, continuing to work at his neck and shoulders.

He cleared his throat a little bit and you took note of the blush that stained his ears. He blinked rapidly and looked away in that endearing way he did when embarrassed.

“Ahem. Never mind.”

His muscles finally started to give way to your ministrations, but your own tensed the more you worked at him. The sounds he made had your heart thundering, and you were acutely aware of how close your body was to his and how you still knelt over his lap- not quite straddling him.

He looked up at you, golden-green eyes hooded by barely concealed desire. “My eyes aren’t as tired as they were before. And my neck and shoulders feel so much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you said, smiling down at him. You knew your face and neck were red, and it took all of your effort not to run and hide. Your only saving grace was the blush that dusted his cheeks.

“Just sit on me,” he said, noticing how your legs began to shake from the unsustainable position you were in. “It’ll be easier for you.”

You began to decline, but his hands found your hips and suddenly you were straddling him in full. And you became very well aware of the hard length of him pressing against your core.

He moaned at the contact, a breathy sound that shot to your core. “I feel much better already.”

“Y-yeah?” You stammered. His hips rose to grind against yours.

“It’s more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world.” He kissed you then, an unhurried kind of probing kiss that drew you in the longer your lips held contact.

But then he pulled away, and you could feel the embarrassment at how easily you got lost in him flush through you again. Still, his arms caged you, keeping you close.

“Your lips are dry. Do you want some water?” He reached over and grabbed the glass from the table, presenting it to you.

“How did you know?” You realized you actually were parched. It was always a point of contention- you always seemed to forget to take care of yourself. “I keep forgetting.”

“You haven’t learned to drink it on your own yet?” You chose to ignore his chuckle by carelessly chugging the glass.

“Don’t rush, it’s spilling out,” he said, right as your overeagerness sent a trail down your neck, chest, and into your shirt between your breasts.

“Oh,” you said dumbly. He took the glass from you and put it back on the table.

“Zayne, help me clean it up, do you have a cloth?”

“All right,” he chuckled, pulling away the hand you were using to dab at it. “I’ll help you clean up.”

And then his mouth found where the water trailed at the hollow of your throat, a searing kiss that sent shivers through you. His mouth and tongue followed the water in a blazing trail on your skin, even tugging down the neck of your shirt to get at as much as he could.

“Z-Zayne,” you breathed, unable- or unwilling- to push him away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His question was murmured against your chest between kisses. You watched as his tongue slipped between your breasts with a hissed inhale, your hips grinding against him. His hands trailed up the backs of your thighs, teasing the hem of your shirt. There was nothing else there to halt his touch, save for your underwear, and he inhaled sharply at the realization.

“I knew it,” he breathed, nipping at your collarbone. “You want to do this to me again.”

And then his lips found yours again, coaxing you open so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His breath mingled with the soft sounds that escaped you. His hands skirted over your curves to lift your shirt over your head in a swift motion you didn’t even have time to react to. This bared you to him almost fully, the only thing covering you now was the soft cotton of the underwear you wore.

“Now you’re just taking advantage,” you chuckled, capturing his lips again. He smiled against your lips.

“What do you mean-” he began, interrupting his sentence with a kiss to your neck.

“I’m taking-“ another kiss, this one to your collarbone.

“Advantage-“ his mouth found your breast now.

“Of the situation?” His teasing words ended with an open mouth kiss to your other breast.

“Aren’t we just helping each other relax,” he questioned softly against your breast. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued kissing, licking, sucking your breasts. With a groan, he lifted you off of him for the length of time it took for the pair of you to fumble with his belt and pants.

When his cock was finally freed, you palmed and stroked him lazily while he gasped and groaned against your chest. But the control he struggled to maintain came close to snapping when you straddled him again, tugged your underwear aside, and slipped the tip of him just inside of you. His hips jerked involuntarily, slamming upwards into you and a whimpered gasp escaped you.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to put into words that it was quite the opposite. He filled you so well, that you damn near came apart on him with that single thrust. Still, he waited for your body to adjust to him, trembling with the effort.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other,” he whispered in your ear. “I missed you.”

Your body shuddered, involuntarily clenching your walls around him. He gasped out a moan, dropping his forehead to your chest while his hips began a slow roll. Your hands gripped at his biceps, fingers digging into him with the same amount of force you used to massage his neck.

“Does this also need to relax?” He said with a sly smile. You couldn’t even muster a response to his teasing. “Of course, I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued.”

You ended his teasing by lifting from him and easing back down slowly. His breathing came in panting bursts while you rocked your hips against his. You watched his body reacting to yours with pleasured delight, trailing your fingers down his firm chest and into the hills and valleys that made up his abdomen.

“Are you enjoying your massage, Doctor Zayne,” you breathed to him, feeling uncharacteristically bold at the sight of him coming undone beneath you.

“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques,” he murmured. “Sometimes…being skillful is what really makes a difference.”

You smiled and resisted rolling your eyes. Still a clinical mind, even while you were impaled on his cock. You set out to make him lose that rational thinking by increasing your pace, taking him deeper and faster. Breathy moans escaped from him and his arms circled your waist to give added leverage as he helped to piston in and out of you.

“I think it’s getting more tense, now,” he murmured, kissing your chest as he nuzzled into you. You knew he was no longer talking about muscles. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding rose to join the panting moans that permeated the otherwise still air.

“Perhaps…you could add a little more pressure,” he whispered to you before his mouth fell upon your nipples once more. Per his request, you clenched your walls around him as you rode him. With a whining moan, he halted your movements so that he could take over and slam into you from below.

All rational thought was driven from both of you, only this primal need left in its place. You could feel pressure building inside of you as his cock plundered you at an almost punishing speed. Hips collided in a frenzied urge to chase the high of release, breathless moans responding to the pleasure, bodies tensing until finally the pair of you spilled over the edge with cries of ecstasy.

He buried his face against your neck, nuzzling as his body continued to jerk and plunge his cock so impossibly deep inside you. Your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for everything he had to give you. His large hands gripped your hips in a bruising grasp, pushing you so that he remained buried in you to the hilt.

“I wonder,” he panted once his body stopped trembling underneath you. He laid back fully, an arm tucked under his head to prop it up so he could take in the full image of you straddling him, of you impaled on him. “How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?”

You trailed your hands from his lower abdomen to his chest, leaning your hips forward only so slightly and dropping back down on him. He was still hard inside you, clearly not fully finished with you. “What can I say? I missed you.”

He clenched his eyes closed when you shifted on him, another short moan rising from his chest. “Yes, of course.

“I missed you too.” He punctuated his words by lifting his hips to meet yours.

“Mmmh, how much?” You followed the rocking of his hips, allowing him to pull out slightly before chasing the descent of him to sheath him inside you fully once he settled back against the bed.

He took your hands in his, pulling you so that you laid flat atop him. He captured your lips in a tender kiss, placing his forehead against yours when he pulled away. His hands smoothed up your back, holding you to him.

“Rest in my embrace, just like this,” he murmured to you. His hips lifted again, sinking his cock deep into you again.

“Now-” He kissed your jaw.

“Let me tell you-“ He kissed your neck

“How much I missed you when we couldn’t see each other.” He wrapped his arms around you and began to move.

“Relax,” he murmured to you when you tensed in anticipation. He moved slower now, rolling the two of you so that you were beneath him now. During the transition, he went too deep and you couldn’t help the hiss of pain that you released.

He froze, searching your face for any hint that you wanted to stop. You caressed his flushed cheek, drawing him back down to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said against your lips. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little, but I'm okay,” you tell him. You move your legs to wrap them around his hips, but he leaves you so that he can quickly shed the rest of his clothing. He rejoined you after removing your underwear, prodding at your entrance but not pushing in. Instead he leaned down to kiss you softly, in hopes to distract you from any pain or discomfort you might still be feeling.

“What about this? Do you feel better now?” His cock breached your slit, but he still wouldn’t fill you in the way you craved and you could feel your patience slipping.

“Or…do you want to change positions?” He stopped the forward tilt of his hips and pulled away to wait for your answer. You grumbled out a sigh, circling your legs around his waist so he couldn’t remove himself.

“Just do it and stop asking questions!”

With that, he settled over you fully, and you reveled in the way the size and weight of him pressed you into the mattress. His mouth captured yours once more and he rolled his hips forward.

The languid pace at which he pressed his hips into yours was almost too much to bear. You wanted to be taken fast, but the feel of him dragging against your walls was only accentuated by how slow he thrust into you. He was all but worshipping your body with his mouth and hands while his hips pressed into yours with every forward lunge.

“So much time has passed now. Don't you want me to say something?” What you wanted was him. To be drowned in him, swept away by the pleasure he elicited with every stroke of his cock. It was almost too much to bear, the sensations surrounding you as he clung to you as fervently as you clung to him. You closed your eyes, listing your chin when his kisses trailed down your throat.

“Tired already? You want to sleep?” His voice was light and teasing but held the hint of a threat in the undertone. You didn’t get a chance to answer before he slammed his hips forward. A pleasured cry escaped you, fingers digging into his flesh.

“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do. The night is still young, we have plenty of time to learn from each other,” he grunted, his hips colliding with yours at a brisk pace now. You whimpered beneath him, allowing him to hook his arms under your knees and practically fold you in half. He slammed his cock into you over and over and you tilted your hips to meet his at every thrust.

“Let me hear your voice,” he sighed, and you obeyed him. Once more, the sounds of pleasure mixed with the sounds of your frenzied coupling. His mouth latched onto the slope of your neck and by the time he was done sucking almost violently at that spot, you knew it was going to leave a gnarly mark. The thought of carrying his mark for weeks drove you even closer to the edge.

“Say my name,” he murmured against your skin, hips snapping forward with forceful thrusts as his climax started to build.

“Z-Zayne,” you whimpered. Your nails dug into his back at the guttural moan he released against your neck.

“Again,” he growled.

“Zayne-” His name came out more like a breath, barely recognizable as a word as his pace turned punishing. He was so impossibly deep inside that you didn’t know where he ended and you began.

“Again,” he groaned, his body trembling with the beginnings of his orgasm. One final, hard, thrust and he was spilling into you with a guttural cry.

“Zayne!” You all but screamed his name as the pulsing twitch of his cock flooding you sent you over the edge with him. You threw your head back into his pillows, body arching into his as your release shot through you.

His hips jerked and shuddered, his whole body trembling like he wasn’t in control. His eyes were clenched closed, his brows drawn down to crease at the center, while he struggled to regain some form of composure. But the intensity of the pleasure didn’t grant him a single reprieve as his body continued to convulse with moaning cries falling from his lips. All you could do was wrap your legs around his waist and lock him to you while he rode out the high with you.

“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck when his body finally relented control back to his mind. He collapsed on you and the pair of you tried to calm your erratic breathing. Soft kisses rained on your skin and you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you when his lips brushed sensitive spots.

When you came down from the pleasured high, he carried you bridal style to the bathroom. He started a shower for the both of you, willingly stepping into the blazing hot water you preferred. He cleaned you with a delicate touch, eliciting shivers as his hands glided over your body. And when he knelt before you to lather your legs with soap, his eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint in them before his mouth latched onto your cunt. He proceeded to turn you into a babbling mess, bringing you to the brink and driving you over the edge with his skilled tongue.

You wiped the self-satisfied smirk off his face when you knelt in front of him to give him the same kind of attention. He stared at you wide-eyed, blushing profusely, as you palmed him and ran your tongue along the underside of his length. Soft moans and curses escaped him as you worked him with your mouth, until he couldn’t take anymore and spilled against your tongue.

Dawn came and went by the time the pair of you tumbled into bed. You were spooned in his embrace, and the warmth of his body against yours lulled you into sleep. You were grateful that it was your weekend, because you didn’t have the will to leave his bed for even one minute.

Not that he would allow it.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [9] - Tranquility

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Simple days can be calming.

Word Count: 2853

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was very fun.

“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.

“Just a hammer?”

“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”

“Exactly why we’re here.”

Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.

Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?

Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.

“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”

“Screw anchors?”

You tilted your head.

“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”

“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”

“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.

“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”

You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”

“Mm hm, they are plastic.”

“Well, where do people use these?”

“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.

“Yay!”

“Anything else you want from here?”

You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.

“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”

“Mm hm.”

“Why?”

“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”

“None of my furniture is anchored.”

“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”

“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”

“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”

He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna use it.”

“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”

“It’s on the other side of the room.”

“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”

You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.

“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”

“What are makeover shows?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”

Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.

“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.

“Why not?”

“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.

“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”

“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.

“It is kind of important in a drill—”

“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”

Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.

“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”

                                                 *

At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.

You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.

“No need princess.”

“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”

“How’s that?”

“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.

You’d had a wet dream like this.

“How did you learn how to do all this?” you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”

“And that’s your hobby?”

“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”

You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.

“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”

“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”

“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”

Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.

“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”

“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”

A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”

You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”

You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.

“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”

                                                        *

The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.

Either or.

“I’m not really much of a TV person.”

“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.

“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”

“The best romance in the history of humankind.”

Logan pulled his brows together.

“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”

“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”

“Four days?!”

“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”

“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”

“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“So you were around when Titanic happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”

You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.

“Holy shit you’re tall.”

“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”

“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yep.”

“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.

“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”

Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.

“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.

“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”

Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.

“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”

You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.

“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”

“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”

“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.

“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”

“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.

“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”

“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.

“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.

“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”

Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”

“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”

Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”

“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.

“A masterpiece, if you will.”

“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”

Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.

“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”

“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”

“He was the one who cheated on you.”

“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”

Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.

“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”

“Aw thank you.”

“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”

Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.

“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.

“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.

10 - Storm

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

adjustments (paige x reader)

summary: you and paige just started dating but you’re not used to signs of affection

content warnings: none

You grew up in less than ideal circumstances. Moving from foster family to foster family, constantly changing schools, having to pack up and start life all over again in different states and cities. You lacked everything that your peers had. No best friends, no family, no stability. Nothing in your life was consistent, you used to try and fight it but as you got older you started to think maybe that’s how you would be forever, alone in this big world with no one to lean on when you needed them.

Going to college changed that though, you knew you’d be in one place for years, seeing the same people everyday, building routines and friendships and relationships. It scared you. It scared because it was new. It felt like you were learning to live again, learning to trust. You were experiencing things at eighteen for the first time that most people experienced when they were eight.

When you met Paige, you dreamed of her being your best friend. She showed you love and compassion and care. She asked you questions you’d never been asked before. She made time in her busy schedule to see you. She introduced you to her friends and they quickly became yours too. She was your best friend and then she wasn’t. She was confessing her feelings for you and you were confused. You didn’t understand. Paige was acting like what you imagined a best friend would but saying she wanted more.

You were forced to be honest with Paige because you liked her and didn’t want to lose her. She was understanding and said she was happy to take things slow, at a pace that was comfortable for you. But it didn’t take you long to realise you shared the same feelings for her and you’ll never forget the smile on her face when she asked you to be her girlfriend and you said yes.

You’ll also never forget the way she frowned and chewed on her bottom lip when she pulled you into a hug, pressing her lips to your forehead and you jumped away.

“I’m sorry. No one- no ones ever done that to me before.” You had admitted.

Paige being Paige understood and reassured you that it didn’t make her feel any differently towards you. You guys could take things as slow as you wanted.

You had been dating for almost a month now and your heart still raced at the slightest of touches, your skin tingled every time she was close to you and you’d pulled away from every kiss after just a few seconds, the feeling being too much, too quickly.

Never in your life have you craved a hug, never have you wanted someone so close you almost mesh into one but you’d had a bad day and all you could think about was being in Paiges arms.

“Oh hi baby.” Paige smiles as she opens her apartment door to you.

You had come round unannounced, straight from your last class of the day.

“Hi.” You whisper, voice almost breaking as you do.

“What’s up?” Paige asks, brows furrowed as you walk inside.

“Bad day. Could I- could I have a hug?” You ask and your hands shake as you do, this was a foreign feeling for you but it would be for Paige too. She wasn’t used to you asking for hugs or even wanting to be touched.

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. C’mere.” She coos, arms opening immediately for you to walk into.

Paige encapsulates you in a tight hug, her arms firm and strong around your body, her chin rested on your head. It takes you a moment to hug her back but eventually your arms snake around her waist and you squeeze her, never wanting to let go.

“Is this OK?” Paige checks in.

“More than.” You reply, voice muffled from the way your face is buried in her chest.

“Let’s go to my room.” Paige says letting you go and you already want to feel her again so you slip your hand into hers as she leads you through her apartment.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but cuddles always help me after a bad day.” She says sitting on the edge of her bed, hand still linked in yours.

“I’ve never cuddled with anyone before.”

“Will you let me show you what it’s like?” She asks tenderly.

You nod and Paige shuffles back on her bed so she’s laying down, propped up slightly by a few pillows. She taps the space next to her and you slip your shoes off before climbing onto the bed.

“Here, shuffle down. Put your head on my chest.”

You do as she says and it takes you a second to find a comfortable position, nestled into Paige but once you do it feels like you’re two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. One of her hands is running through your hair and the other trails up and down your arm and you feel as though you’re floating, the events of the day washing away with each stroke.

“That feels nice.” You murmur as you move your arm to rest over Paiges stomach.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She agrees.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me baby. You don’t need to earn my affection. Not now, not ever.” Your heart pangs at her words and suddenly you want to touch her. Every part of her. You want her skin under your fingertips, her lips on yours and you want it now.

You look up at Paige who’s already looking down at you and you bring your hand up to her face, gently stroking her jaw and her eyes flutter shut. Your finger traces up and over her brow bone, down her nose and across her lips, “You’re so beautiful.” You breathe out, heart racing.

Paige is quick to prop herself up and her hand finds your hip and positions you so you’re fully laying down. You gasp at the sudden movement, “Is this O-” Paige begins.

“How about I let you know when it’s not OK? Just keep going.”

Paige is straddling you now, knees at either side of your waist. Her hands start on your face, pushing your hair back, they trail down your neck and your breathing increases as they palm over your chest and down your stomach, “I’ve dreamed of this.” She rasps, her tongue running along her bottom lip as she looks down at you, eyes hooded and needy.

“Kiss me…please.” You practically beg, your hands now planted on Paiges thighs.

She leans down and kisses the tip of your nose and your eyes close as her lips find yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. Her lips are soft and plump against yours and you can’t hold back the throaty moan as her tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste her and it’s euphoric. She detaches her mouth from yours only to press kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Fuck…her lips on your neck feel so good. You hold her head in place as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin before poking out her tongue to soothe the spot.

She moves down to kiss your collarbone, her hands are under your shirt and yours are in her hair, “You’re so perfect.” She groans, eyes flicking up to look at you and you let her head go, hands frantically pulling your shirt up and over your head tossing it onto the floor.

“Shit.” Paige hisses as her eyes trail down your exposed torso. She leans down, peppering kiss up your stomach and your head flies back at the feeling. “Don’t stop.” You plead and she doesn’t until you feel as though every inch of your skin has been touched by her lips.

Your hands are having a field day exploring your girlfriends body, you squeeze her flexed biceps as she hovers over you and you tug at the neckline of her shirt wanting it off. She removes it in one swift movement so you’re both left if your bras. Your fingers trace over her toned abs and she flops down next to you, taking your hand and guiding it over her stomach, “I love feeling your hands on me baby.” She tells you softly.

“I love having my hands on you. I can’t believe it took me this long.” You say pressing a kiss to Paiges shoulder.

“I would’ve waited longer. As long as you needed.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: bro 😔 starting to feel touch starved like reader. ive been single so long

[lanabuckybarnes]

Might have re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier again 🫣....and it's just something about the way he says "You're my misson." All I know is this gives off HUGE smutty vibes. I love your written so I just knew I had to ask you!

Ohh nonnie the way he growls it as well (panties soaked)

18+ MINORS DNI, DUB/NON CON THEMES AHEAD

His metal hand pressed against your throat, you should’ve passed out ages ago but he wasn’t squeezing enough to hurt. He was keeping you in place.

You don’t know how you ended up on Hydra’s watchlist. You were a regular person, a security expert who woke up at 6am every morning, showered and got ready for the long hours at the office.

Your boss had some new clientele. They were in the market for top-notch security and they’d chosen the company you worked for, and your boss had chosen you to be part of the team. You learned quickly that they were a very secretive group, you only ever met the messengers and even then they blanked every other word you spoke besides a polite hello.

It was one boring day, completely uneventful, the usual in your office. You were working on the can’t security side of the project when your screen went black, then a logo appeared—an octopus? Weird.

“Hey Jim come look at this” you notified your cubicle neighbour who peaked over the barrier. Just as he did mountains of files filtered onto your screen, many of them in Russian it looked like but one thing was for certain. You definitely shouldn’t have seen it.

That night after packing up and heading downstairs you noticed Jim still at the revolving doors.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked, he looked pale, if you were in an old house you were sure you would’ve mistook him for a ghost.

“T-the—“ he cleared his throat before his brown eyes bore into yours. They looked dead, it shook you to your core. “The logo, on your computer…I searched it up and…”

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you digested the content on his phone. Hydra. Your new clients were Hydra and you’d accidentally seen all their files.

—

You jumped from your dreamless sleep at the sound of your landline. Checking your clock lets you know it was well past midnight, who on earth would be calling at this time?

“H-hello?” You rasped, eyes shutting by the second.

The frantic voice spoke your name. It was Jim and by his tone, he was panicking.

“Jim? Jim, are you alright?” You pressed, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“T-they’re here, listen to me whatever you do, do not open your door. Find a weapon and hide…oh god…Do not op—“ BANG!!

You let out a shriek at the sound, Jim’s side turning eerily quiet. Then your door knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Your door was gone before it could be knocked for a third time. Kicked so hard it hit the opposite wall, you screamed, dropping the phone from your ear and falling to the ground like you were made of jelly.

Tears flowed freely down your face as the huge body stalked forth, his arm glistening under the dim light you kept on at all times. A mask sat upon his face obscuring his emotions from you but you were certain he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through.

His heavy boots stopped just in front of your knees, his metal hand grasped at your throat squeezing until your vision spotted, until you garbled pleas up at him. Only then did he pull you up, your toes pointing to reach the floor, you were trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure around your throat.

You should’ve died a long time ago, his brain screamed at him to fulfil his mission, put a bullet in your skull and be done. But the more he looked at you the more he wanted.

The spaghetti straps of your nightgown had slipped down off your shoulders, catching in the crooks of your elbows but not before giving him a delicious tease of your bust.

He wanted more.

He raised his flesh hand, hooking a long thick index finger into the material before ripping it from your body in one fell swoop. You yelled and struggled against his grasp but a harsh squeeze of your trachea had any fight dying quickly.

He let his knuckles trace the swell of your tits, pinching a nipple in between his fingers, smirking darkly under the mask as you squirmed.

You look cute all scared of him; wide-eyed and chest heaving, your tummy sucking in to get away from his hand as it trailed down to your cotton panties.

A dark chuckle escaped him as he felt along your gusset.

“You’re wet”

You shook your head, eyes darting anywhere but him, your thighs squeezing his hand and keeping it pressed firmly against your mound.

He ripped the panties from your body as well, running two fingers through your folds and bringing them up to your face. Absolutely soaked.

“Wet” he spoke matter-of-factly before pushing his hand back down there; fingers plucking your hard little clit effortlessly until you were crying out.

“W-why are you doing this” you moaned, head hitting off the wall with a bang as you sucked in air greedily.

“You’re my mission” he growled back, fingers stretching you out until your brain turned to mush.

He coaxed four orgasms out of you that night. His mask, thrown to the floor so he could kiss you sloppily before leaving.

He returned night after night, Hydra sending him to complete his task but he’d do the same again, play with you, eat you out until you were a writhing mess—all dumb and thinking of nothing but him.

You were his mission. For days, months, years. You were his.

—

I pulled this outta my ass but I hope it was up to your standard nonnie 🤭🤭

Also thank you so much, it’s nice to know some people enjoy reading the poo I write.

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️❤️

[chrisevansonly]

Some Extra Goodies

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching

warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles

a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!

Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.

Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.

Until today.

“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”

You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.

“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”

Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.

“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”

Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.

It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.

“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly

“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”

“Really?”

You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list

“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”

“Well I just noticed something funny…”

Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.

“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”

“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”

Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.

“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”

“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”

Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.

“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”

“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”

You shrugged

“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”

At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open

“You’ve known?!”

“Every year since we started dating…”

Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.

“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”

“Hey!”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.

Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[guess-my-next-obsession]

the alchemy | v. the confession

pairing: no outbreak!dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel find peace after a hard day, but it doesn’t stay that way for long.

chapter rating: E (18+ only, MINORS DNI, dbf/secret relationship, age gap (joel is 34, reader is 24), unprotected piv, joel has a filthy mouth, appearance of this man’s obvious breeding kink, angst to end it all--may contain some typos but i can’t be bothered to check)

wc: 4.4k

series masterlist | previous chapter

The waiting room of the doctor’s office you were interviewing at for a temp job as an administrative assistant while you awaited replies from more long-term positions was bleak and empty. The cold space was bright with overhead fluorescent lighting, the soft hum of a court TV show pairing horribly with the soft clacks of the receptionist’s keyboard. It was the perfect recipe for a headache, if your earlier conversation with your father hadn’t already given you one. 

He’d been on your ass about keeping up with your chores, and though you admittedly had fallen behind on your end of the bargain, it wasn’t like you could tell him why you’d been too busy to chip in lately. 

I’ve been busy falling in love with your good friend, dad didn’t seem like a good way to get yourself back into his good graces. 

So, instead of prepping for your interview, you passive-aggressively tended to the sink full of dishes, only for him to switch gears and gripe that he didn’t mean you had to do them then and there. 

Just another reason why you needed to start earning some money of your own so that you could find a small place and put some much needed distance between you and your father. 

When the doctor and owner of the small practice finally called you back—twenty minutes past your agreed upon time—your head was pounding. If you hadn’t been so desperate to land a job, you might’ve slipped out at the five minute mark, but as it stood, you needed to see this shitty interview through. 

For your sanity. 

For some privacy. 

For the potential to not have to sneak out every night just to see Joel. 

JOEL

It had been a long fucking day. 

Between the incessant ache in his lower back from yesterday’s job putting up drywall and the shipment of tile for his latest contract—a suburban couple’s renovation of their first home together—arriving cracked, he was desperate to get home and doze away on the couch with a cold beer. 

Sarah was off at her friend’s house for the night, which meant he had the night to himself—unless you were able to sneak over and offer him some much welcomed company for the night. 

But he wasn’t counting on that fact, not when your dad had been there to watch Sarah pack her overnight bag into Mrs. Jacobs’ silver minivan earlier that morning. 

It didn’t stop him from hoping, nonetheless. 

As he pulled his pickup into his driveway, Joel was surprised to find the exact person he’d been hoping to see sitting on the front step of his place. He hopped out of the truck with a newfound purpose and tried to tame the boyish grin creeping onto his face as he took you in. You looked more corporate than you usually did, a pair of slacks and a button-down blouse taking the place of your usual t-shirt and jeans, but you looked no less beautiful than you always did. A natural, effortless thing that had every nerve in his body alight with the need to get his hands on you. 

“Hey,” you greeted him, a small smile lifting one corner of that mouth he loved so much. 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, scanning the cul de sac as he stepped up onto his porch. “Dressed to impress, I see.”

You huffed out a small laugh and rolled your eyes as you stood, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you in case anyone happened to be watching. A fact that he loathed with every bone in his body. 

“My key broke off in the front door,” you sighed, leaning against the wooden beam beside you. “My dad’s not going to be home until late tonight, and I didn’t feel like breaking in. Decided I’d slum it here until you got home.”

He stepped closer to you, his hand twitching with the urge to stroke his thumb over your cheek in hopes of turning your frown into one of those smiles he loved so much. “Need me to break in for ya?”

“You could,” you said, biting at your lip as you stared down at your nails. “Or we could go inside and you can help me forget about the shitty interview I just had.”

It was Joel’s turn to frown, despite the twitch he felt downstairs at the implication in your tone. “Didn’t get the job?”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” you scoffed. “I don’t want it, though. The doctor was a total dick. Made some joke about finally having someone pretty behind the desk to greet him in the morning. I’d rather be broke and unemployed than have to work with that bullshit.”

“Want me to kick his ass?” Joel asked, reveling in the laugh his words earned. 

“No.” You smiled, lifting your eyes to meet his as the tip of your tongue slid out to wet your bottom lip. “I have better stuff in mind for you.”

Joel’s brown arched, a smirk lighting up his face. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be, darlin’?”

“Let me in and I’ll show you.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

As soon as Joel shut and locked the door behind him, you were pressing him against the wall. 

Your lips found his ungracefully, but he didn’t seem to mind as he kissed you back with just as much unbridled need. It had been too long—three days now—since you’d gotten the chance to be truly alone with him. With Sarah at the house, the two of you had to be discreet and silent, and while it never hindered the pleasure you brought each other, it certainly dampened a bit of this passion you’d been yearning to feel. 

Joel groaned as he slipped his hands over your hips to squeeze your ass through your trousers, pressing you tighter to his body. You bit at his lower lip and let your own hands travel, one to the nape of his neck and one down to palm at the bulge imprisoned by his jeans. 

“Missed you all day, baby,” he said, his voice thick with desire as he guided you backwards towards the couch. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Tell me what you were thinking about,” you panted, straddling his lap as he sat down and pulled you with him. 

“Thought about the way you looked when you were ridin’ me a couple nights ago,” he said, nipping at your jawline. “How you had to cover your mouth to keep quiet. Fuck, I got hard just thinkin’ about the sounds you make. Been too goddamn long since I heard ‘em. You gonna let me hear ‘em today, baby?”

“Fuck, yeah,” you moaned, grinding yourself against him as he started to unbutton your blouse, kissing each bit of skin he exposed along the way. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, lathing his tongue over the swell of your breast as it sat pushed up by your bra. He peeled your shirt off your body and tossed it across the room before settling his big, warm hands on your waist, smoothing his rough palms across your smooth skin. “Wanna hear every fuckin’ thing.” 

Your back arched as he lowered his mouth to your breast, kissing and nipping at you through the thin lace of your bra. With a skilled flick of his fingers behind your back, he had the bra unclasped and discarded on the floor along with your shirt, the cool air around you stiffening your nipples into sensitive peaks. He groaned as he palmed one of your breasts in his hand, his thumb stroking over the sensitive bud as he slowly lifted his eyes back to yours to watch your face crumple a bit with pleasure. 

“You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he whispered, shaking his head at you in reverence as he lowered his mouth to your nipple, kissing it softly. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you moaned, holding his head against your breast as he swirled and sucked at the bud before kissing his way over to the other. ”I need you inside me.”

Joel’s hands gripped you harder, pulling you closer. “Take me out and sit on it, then, honey. I ain’t stoppin’ what I’m doin’.” 

Your limbs felt heavy and clumsy as you dropped your hands to his lap, as if you were drunk off Joel’s voice alone. You fumbled with his belt and the button of his jeans, undoing both with little grace as you scrambled to access the hard thickness straining beneath its rigid denim confines. Joel, meanwhile, hadn’t stopped lavishing your sensitive nipples with attention, alternating from sucking to nibbling to flicking at them with the tip of his tongue, all while his big hands restlessly stroked up and down the planes of your back. 

“Stand up so I can take these off,” he ordered, tugging at the belt loops of your trousers. You obeyed immediately, letting him undo the button and slip your slacks and underwear off in one smooth motion before he shed himself of his own clothes, leaving him bare and beautiful in front of you. Joel was smiling as he tapped his lap with one hand and held your hip with the other. “Sit.” 

You let out a soft keening sound at the rough, inviting tone of his voice, obeying once again. Joel watched your face as you straddled his lap, his eyes round with reverence and lips parting at the feeling of your soft palm wrapping around his pulsing girth. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, biting his lip as his eyes fell to watch your hand pump him. “You got any idea what you do t’me, baby? Any fuckin’ clue how good y’feel?”

You replied with a hiss of your own as you flicked the tip of him along your seam, paying special attention to your swollen bundle of nerves. “Do you?”

Joel smiled for a half-second before his face crumpled into something dark and needy and absolutely sinful as you lined him up at your entrance, sinking down just enough to have his fat head inside you. He groaned at the tightness there, and you sighed at the delicious stretch of him making himself at home in the most precious of places. 

“Always so tight,” he whispered, lifting his hands to your face as he pulled you down to him for a searing kiss. “So fuckin’ wet. Best fuckin’ pussy in the world.”

You smiled into the kiss and sank down further, relishing in the choked moan you tore from his chest. “And it belongs to you, Joel.”

“Shit,” he groaned, tossing his head back against the couch, giving you the perfect chance to press your lips against his pulse. Joel’s hands splayed across your hips, keeping you flush with his body for a moment while he gained his composure. “Tell me again.”

You grinded yourself against him, your clit rubbing against the patch of hair at his base and sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “My pussy’s all yours, Joel.”

He growled, lifting your hips just to drive his own forward, drilling in deep. “Again.”

You let out a cry, fingers leaving crescent moons in the meat of his shoulders as his head found that spot deep inside you with every rough thrust upwards. “You own me, Joel.”

“Own what?,” he growled, using your body as a toy as he plunged deep over and over and over. Your face was buried in the nook of his neck as you held onto his broad frame, breathing in the scent of sawdust and warm cologne and sweat—so masculine, so distinctly Joel. 

“You own my pussy,” you cried, meeting his thrusts in harsh bounces, the room filling with the lewd slap of your ass meeting his thighs. “You own every fucking part of me, baby.” 

Joel’s hand came down onto your ass with a sharp sting, the pain blending with pleasure and driving you closer to that delicious edge. “Good fuckin’ girl. This pussy’s all mine. You’re all fuckin’ mine, ain’t ya?” 

“Fuck, yes!” You rode him without care of how you looked while doing it. It was animalistic and primal the way you needed him, the way your body reacted to even the slightest of touches. Joel shared that same inhibition, hands gripping and roaming and mouth spewing with filth. 

“Wanna carve my name into this fuckin’ pussy and make it mine forever. Put a fuckin’ baby in you,” he groaned, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear as the two of you worked in tandem to achieve pure bliss. His words had you clenching, even when you hadn’t expected to want or like them as much as you did. “That what you want, baby? Want me to fuck my cum nice and deep ‘til it takes?”

“Fuck, yes!” you cried, your walls squeezing him like a vice grip. “Wanna have your baby, Joel!”

He growled, using one hand at the base of your neck to pull your face from his shoulder so that he could look into your eyes. “So fuckin’ beautiful, honey. You’d look so goddamn pretty with my baby inside you.”

“Fuck, Joel, I’m so close,” you moaned, face wrecked with pleasure as you leaned back on his lap, your hands perched on his thighs for leverage. Joel growled at the change in position, at the sight of your body sprawled out on top of him, at the bounce of your breasts in his eyeline. 

“I’m gonna cum nice and deep,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he lowered his thumb to your clit, working it in perfect circles. “Gonna make you a mess and then clean it up with my tongue. S’that what you want?”

“Please,” you cried, too fucked out to say anything better. 

“Gonna taste us together ‘til you beg me to stop,” he said, his own voice now shaky and rough as he approached his release. “Fuck, baby. I need you t’cum for me. I’m too fuckin’ close.”

You didn’t need any more motivation, your body seizing up and crumbling on top of him with the weight of your climax. Joel gathered you in his arms and held you close to his chest, pressing kisses against your temple as he buried himself deep and let you have every last drop of his release. 

“Take it,” he murmured, fucking his cum deep into your pussy. “Take what’s yours, darlin’.”

“Jesus,” you sighed, circling your hips against his as your climax faded to a warm, tingling thing. ”You’re too fucking good at this.”

Joel laughed, soft and breathy, as he smoothed a hand up and down your back before letting it settle on your ass with a gentle squeeze. “Fuck, I love the shit out of you, you know that?” 

You froze, not out of fear or panic, but just the sheer surprise of such a confession falling so casually from his lips. Joel seemed to realize it too, as his hand stilled in its ministrations across your heated skin. 

“We can pretend I didn’t say that, if y’want,” Joel said, sounding much too shy and insecure for your taste. 

You sat up enough to look at him, watching as he avoided your stare like a nervous little boy. 

“Look at me, you beautiful man.” He obliged, carefully lifting his eyes to meet yours. You held his face in your hands, guiding him to your lips for three gentle, loving pecks. “I don’t want to pretend. I…love you, too. Fuck, I think I’ve always loved you, Joel.”

Joel’s smile dawned again, washing away every trace of hesitation that lingered before. He leaned in to kiss you again, this time slow and languid as if he’d be content to do this for the rest of his life. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this…happy. This settled before. Just want you t’know that.”

“Neither have I,” you murmured, your lips refusing to move too far from his. 

JOEL

You stayed with him later than you probably should’ve. The afternoon light had faded into evening, but neither of you paid any mind to the passing of time. You fell asleep shortly after he fulfilled his promise of cleaning you up with his tongue, your face buried in the nook of his neck as he dozed with you on the sofa. 

He woke up before you, eager to take his time in watching you sleep beside him. It had become a favorite pastime of his in the short month the two of you had spent together, waking up before you just to watch you breathe. He’d never felt this way in any of his previous relationships, so enamored and in love with a person, even in their most base state. It had always been a sort of begrudging kind of love with his exes, as if there was a large part of his biology that rejected their company for one reason or the next. He mostly just felt out of place in their company, like living with a stranger or a roommate that he fucked every now and again. 

But there wasn’t a single part of him that felt that way about you. He loved every bit of you—the woman you showed him when you were awake, kind and thoughtful and determined, and the woman he held close when you were fast asleep, all soft curves and warm skin. Even Sarah seemed to accept you as a natural addition to their family, far more than she ever did with her own mother. That fact carried more weight than you knew, or perhaps you were keenly aware of the way they both felt for you and simply chose to accept it in stride. Either way, it was endearing. 

He was just about to wake you up to thank you for existing here with him—with them—in the best way he knew how when a series of hurried knocks sounded on his front door. He’d saw the headlights of your father’s SUV pull into the driveway next door, and given your absence at home, he had no doubt that he would’ve strolled over, worried as all hell. 

Joel gently coaxed you awake with a thumb brushing over your face, feeling a bit irritated that he had to interrupt your peace. Especially given the circumstance. 

“Your dad’s at the door, baby,” he said, his voice gentle but urging. You bolted upright at the news, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as you scanned the room. “Go upstairs and I’ll send him back home.”

You muttered a sleepy okay, grabbed your clothes from the floor, and hurried upstairs to his bedroom while Joel threw on his own clothes and tried to look half-presentable. As if he hadn’t just spent the afternoon inside you. 

When things looked to be back in order, he finally marched to the door and opened it, revealing your disheveled looking father. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Have you seen my daughter?” he asked, breezing past Joel and into the half-lit living room. 

“No,” Joel lied, rubbing the back of his neck as he spotted your underwear halfway beneath the couch that you must’ve missed when fumbling for your clothes in the dark. “You wanna grab a couple beers and tell me what’s got you so riled up?”

Your father headed into the kitchen with a soft grunt, allowing Joel the opportunity to stuff your panties in his back pocket before taking a seat on the sofa. When he returned, he let out a sigh and settled into the recliner, combing a hand over his face. 

“She isn’t home,” he said, pausing to take a sip of his beer. “She usually sends me a text when she’s gonna be out late.”

“She probably just forgot,” Joel said, his knee bouncing with anxiety. Lying had never come easy to him, but if there was any time to learn, it was now. “You tried textin’ her?”

“Yeah, nothin’,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel like she’s hiding something from me. A boyfriend, maybe. I’ve kept quiet about it, but I’ve heard her sneakin’ out in the dead of night. Her car always stays here, though, so she must be gettin’ picked up.” He fixed his attention on Joel. “You seen anything?”

Joel was quick to shake his head. A bit too quick. “No, I’m in bed early these days.”

“Well, keep an eye out if you can,” he said, ticking his jaw. “I’d like to know what she’s been up to. Makes no sense for her to hide things from me, but then again, it’s been a long time since we’ve been under the same roof like this.”

“She’s probably just settlin’ in, figurin’ things out,” Joel said, his fingers scratching at the label on his bottle. “No need to go and get yourself worked up over nothin’.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, downing the last of his beer. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you hear anything.”

Joel stood to walk him to the door, only to watch as your father’s eyes landed on a familiar looking phone case laid face down on the coffee table. 

“That’s her phone,” he said, his eyes narrowing at the object before lifting to Joel’s. “What’s her phone doin’ here?”

Joel struggled to make up a lie, his lips parting and closing over and over. “I, uh…”

“Joel,” he said, his tone harsher than before. “What’s my daughter’s phone doing here?”

Your father stepped closer, squaring his shoulders as he sized up his newfound enemy. 

“I’m gonna give you two seconds to explain yourself before I go upstairs and take a look myself,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Listen—“

“Nope.” He shook his head, scoffing in anger as he turned to move towards the staircase. Joel rushed to block his path, setting a firm hand on his chest. “I suggest you move, Miller.”

“I suggest you don’t tell me what to do in my own house,” Joel said, his protective streak outweighing his anxiety. “You can either sit there and listen, or you can get the hell out. Either way, you ain’t goin’ upstairs.”

“You gonna stop me?” Your father stepped forward, daring Joel to make a move. He had half a mind to shove him back a step, but the sound of his bedroom door opening talked some much needed sense into him. 

“Dad, stop,” you pleaded, the sound breaking Joel’s heart. “I’ll be home in a second. We can talk about this in private.”

“There’s no way in hell this is happening,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he turned to pace the living room. “You’re sneakin’ around with my daughter? And lyin’ to my face about it? For what, some hookup? Some sick fantasy of yours?”

“Dad!” You pushed past Joel to stand in front of him protectively. “It’s not a hookup or anything like that. Joel and I are together. We’re serious about each other.”

“He’s a decade older than you!” he shouted back, causing Joel to take the lead. 

“She’s a grown woman,” Joel said. “Goddamn near twenty-five. You don’t think she’s old enough to make her own decisions yet?” 

“She wasn’t twenty-five when you met her,” he returned. 

“And I didn’t act on anything all that time,” Joel said.

“How long has this been goin’ on?” Your father turned to you, and Joel fought the urge to tell him to wipe the murderous look off his face. 

“A month or so,” you said, meek and timid. “We were going to tell you.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “Joel was just sitting there lying to my face about you just needing time to settle in. All the while, he’s been the one you’ve been sneaking off with.”

“We were waiting until we knew what was happening—“

“Well that went to shit, didn’t it?” he said, shaking his head. “You know what? You wanna sneak around and lie to me, you wanna play house with him, then you can stay here. I’m not having a liar sleep under my roof.”

“Dad!”

“No!” he shouted. “You didn’t care how this would hurt me before, you don’t get to cry about it now. I’m goin’ out. You’ve got an hour to get your shit and leave my house. And you—“ He turned his attention to Joel. “You’re never going to be welcomed under my roof again. You’re dead to me. I don’t want to see your face again, you hear me?”

Joel didn’t reply, simply clenching his jaw as he reached a hand out to welcome you into his side, your tears staining his t-shirt as you buried your face in his neck. 

“Fuckin’ sick,” your father said, stomping his way to the door and slamming it shut behind him. 

In the tense silence that followed, Joel wanted nothing more than to go over and teach your father a lesson on how not to speak to you, but he was too preoccupied with holding you as you shook with tears. 

“Baby,” he cooed, hugging you tight. “I’m so sorry. So fuckin’ sorry.”

“He was so…mean,” you sobbed, hugging him tight. “He’s never spoken to me like that. Like I wasn’t his daughter.”

“I know,” he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. “I hate him for makin’ you cry like this.”

“I can’t believe…can’t believe this is real,” you said, peering up to look at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I was so happy just a few minutes ago.” 

Joel cradled your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’ll be alright. He’ll come around, and if he doesn’t…well, he can go fuck himself.”

You nodded, though no part of him thought you believed what he’d said. No, you’d be torn up over this for days. Weeks, even. But through it all, he’d be there. 

“Come on,” he said, holding your hand. “Let’s go get your things, and then we’ll come back, have a drink, and watch one of those romance movies you love so much until it hurts a little bit less, alright?”

You managed a soft, but broken smile and nodded. “Thank you for sticking up for me and being here. It’s more than most men would’ve done in your situation.”

“I love you,” he said, squeezing your hand. “That means I’m gonna always be here to stick up for you, alright? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[girlygguk]

promises | jjk (part 2)

he's the love of your life, but how much is too much before that just isn’t enough anymore?

second instalment of the promises drabble mini-series

solo idol!jk x ex gf!reader, angst, eventual happy ending (i hope...), 1264 words, bestest boy bammie appearance, bff taehyungie appearance, jk is in new york & oc is moving out

🎤 🖤 💐

it’s been two days.

you haven’t taken unplanned leave in years, but you took this week off, telling yourself it was to sort things out. hoseok, your boss, had smiled when you asked, immediately approving the six days with an encouraging wave of his hand. "take more if you need to," he said lightly, not knowing the reason and not needing to. you thanked him but declined. six days would have to be enough.

because if you gave yourself more time, you weren’t sure you’d ever pull yourself out of this.

jungkook left for his mini-tour two days ago. you felt numb — like none of this was real. like it couldn’t possibly be happening.

but it was.

you’d spent the last forty-eight hours swinging between disbelief and overwhelming guilt. you felt like the biggest bitch for doing this right before he had to step onstage, performing for thousands of people who came to see him smile, laugh, and sing like nothing was wrong.

you’d broken down, screamed into your pillow, and berated yourself over it more times than you could count. you’d almost taken it all back — almost grabbed your phone, called him, and begged him to come back because you couldn’t bear the thought of being the one who hurt him.

but that felt even worse.

because as much as you didn’t want this — and couldn’t fathom a version of yourself without him — you knew it had to be done. you had to try.

the memory of your last night together played on an endless loop in your head, equal parts comfort and torment. you’d hugged and cried, tangled together in the kind of intimacy you hadn’t shared in what felt like forever. you talked — really talked — for the first time in so long, about everything. about how much you loved each other. about how unfair this was for both of you.

because it wasn’t fair.

but then the clock struck eleven and jungkook’s voice cracked as he said he needed to get some sleep before his early morning flight because he still hadn’t packed. you nodded as you swallowed the lump in your throat and curled into him, your faces pressed so close you could feel the dampness of his tears on your cheek. wrapped in each other, cocooned in your heartbreak, you fell asleep.

an hour later, maybe two, you woke up. he was still asleep, his face soft and tear-streaked, his breathing heavy from exhaustion. quietly, you slipped out of bed, pulling the comforter up around him, careful not to disturb his rest.

you packed his suitcase for him, piece by piece. you cried as you folded his shirts, your fingers trembling with every crease. you cried harder when you set his wallet and passport on top, double-checking that everything was in order. and you cried the most when you opened his wallet and found that polaroid of you and bam, taken on the pup’s first birthday.

it had been early in jungkook’s career, and the stars had aligned that day, granting him a rare day off. you’d taken bam to the beach, splitting a cup of ice cream while jungkook got the puppy his own little treat. you’d laughed so hard when bam’s leash slipped out of jungkook’s hand, sending your overexcited puppy barreling toward a group of kids building sandcastles.

the memory of that little boy’s face when bam belly-flopped onto his castle still made you chuckle through your tears. jungkook had panicked, fumbling with his wallet to offer the boy a few hundred dollar bills to stop his sobbing, but you’d intervened, apologising profusely and offering to help rebuild. the mother had grabbed her kids and left, throwing you both a disapproving glare as jungkook stood frozen with a wad of cash in his hand.

when they were finally out of sight, you’d collapsed on the sand, laughing so hard your stomach ached. jungkook had stood there pouting, only for bam to jump on top of you in pure puppy joy, knocking him down with you.

it had been one of the best days of your life.

and now it was just a memory.

day three has been the hardest.

you thought it would get easier. that would only make sense, right? it’s not like you’ll never see him again. he’s your best friend. of course you’ll see him regularly… right?

but that thought, as comforting as it’s supposed to be, feels more and more like a lie the longer it sits in your chest.

you haven’t spoken much since jungkook left. he’s in new york now, and the timezone difference is horrible, like another constant, invisible wall standing between you. when you do text, hours stretch between responses, each one making the ache in your chest sharper.

he’s not okay. you know that.

he’s said it in more than one of his texts.

i don’t know what to do. i hate feeling like this.

the first time you read it, you almost spewed. now, every time you wake up and see another message like that, your heart breaks a little more. you bury your face in your pillow and cry quietly into the fabric before replying.

call me, you tell him every time. whenever you feel like this. even if i’m sleeping, i’ll answer. please, just call me.

he doesn’t.

instead, his texts come sporadically, words jagged, like they’re pulled from him only after he’s bled them out. you know he’s hurting — you can feel it even across the thousands of miles that separate you now.

yesterday, you watched his performance on good morning america. it was phenomenal. he was phenomenal.

your boyf—ex boyfriend was a born star. a vision, a golden light in the darkest of crowds. the audience loved him. his face lit up as he smiled at them, his energy shining through every word, every movement.

he looked so happy. he always looks happy when he performs.

and you will never be the person to take that away from him. ever.

“you ready, honey?”

taehyung’s voice cuts softly through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. you glance over your shoulder and find him leaning casually against the doorframe, his brown eyes soft, the leash in his hand twitching as bam pulls gently against it.

the handle of the bag in your hand loosens a little. your grip slackens. your legs feel unsteady, heavy as if they might give out entirely.

no, i’m not ready.

you force the words down, swallowing hard as you look back around the bedroom. the bed you once shared neatly made. the dresser with the chain he gifted you for your last anniversary draped over its mirror. the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to the air. teasing you. taunting you.

“yeah.” your voice is low and flat as you turn to face him, a weak nod your only answer. “let’s go.”

you take his free hand and let him lead you out of your—the apartment.

the door clicks shut behind you, the sound sharper than it should be. final, almost.

your best friend’s grip tightens on bam’s leash as he leads you down the stairs, and you follow in silence, your fingers clutching the strap of your bag so tightly they begin to hurt.

when you climb into his truck, you glance out the window one last time, your eyes landing on the apartment you shared with the love of your life for the past four years.

the ache in your chest doesn’t go away.

but maybe it’ll start to hurt a little less tomorrow.

[daisymbin]

Ok so this might be very suggestive but imagine getting on the bus with hansol after a casual coffee date and the bus is crowded so you're standing in the standing area and he's standing facing u, kinda Like shielding u frm the crowd or smth & u r sharing earpods (🎵: double take ~ dhruv) & he's staring out of the window & you're staring at him and you randomly say 15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?" Cuz u just realise u might still hv a crush on ur long term boyfriend

(This is my 5th ask pls bear with me i just love u too much)

Also I can get this look of his out of my mind

!!!! thank you for coming back!!!! i chose another song as requested!!! 🥲🤍

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

the bus was packed, the kind of crowded where personal space became a luxury, and you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers. it wasn’t unusual, but today it felt different. maybe it was the warmth of the coffee date still lingering between you and hansol, or maybe it was the way he looked so effortlessly himself, casual and calm, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him.

he stood beside you, one hand gripping the railing above while the other tugged at his earphones. he handed you one without a word, the gesture so familiar it made your heart ache in the best way.

“thanks,” you mumbled, slipping the earbud in.

“you don’t even know what song it is yet,” he teased, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“doesn’t matter. your playlists are always good.”

the faint intro of be your everything by boys like girls filled your ears. you bit back a smile at the song choice, wondering if he’d put it on for you or if it was just a coincidence. hansol didn’t say anything else, just turned to look out the window, his profile bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon.

you shifted slightly as the bus jolted forward, trying to steady yourself against the sway of the vehicle. the standing area was cramped, people pressed too close for comfort. and then it happened—a sharp stop at a red light sent someone stumbling into you, their shoulder colliding with yours.

you stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you tried to regain your balance. hansol’s arm shot out instinctively, his hand catching your elbow and steadying you before you could fall.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with concern.

“yeah,” you breathed, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the near fall.

he frowned slightly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he shifted, stepping in front of you. “here, stand like this,” he said, positioning himself between you and the crowd. his arm stretched out to hold the railing above your head, shielding you from the jostling around you.

you blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden closeness. “hansol, you don’t have to—”

“just in case,” he interrupted, his gaze flickering to yours briefly before returning to the window. “i don’t want you getting bumped into again.”

the way he said it, so matter-of-fact and protective, made your chest tighten.

the song played on, and you found yourself more focused on him than the music. his eyes were distant, watching the buildings pass by, his expression soft and almost thoughtful. you’d known him for so long, but moments like this still caught you off guard—the quiet way he cared, the little things he did without needing to be asked.

as the chorus swelled, you caught a lyric that made your breath hitch: “i’ll be your shelter, i’ll be your storm. i’ll make you shiver, i’ll keep you warm.”

something about those words hit you differently. they reminded you of everything hansol had been to you, everything he still was. he wasn’t just your boyfriend—he was your safe place, your calm in the chaos. and in that moment, staring at him as the music played on, you realized something.

you still had a crush on him. after all this time, after all the little moments and big ones, after he’d already become yours, the feeling hadn’t faded. it had only grown, deeper and stronger, filling every corner of your heart.

the words were out before you could think. “you’re my favorite person, you know that?”

hansol froze, his eyes flicking to yours, wide and disbelieving. “what?”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but there was no taking it back now. “i said you’re my favorite person.”

his lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you. then, slowly, a shy smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart do flips. “me?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off despite the fluttering in your chest. “obviously.”

he blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing a soft pink as he turned back to the window, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “oh.”

you laughed softly at his reaction. “that’s all you have to say? ‘oh’?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “you caught me off guard. i don’t really know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” you said, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “i just… wanted you to know.”

hansol finally looked at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “well, for the record,” he said softly, “you’re my favorite person too.”

the bus jolted again, but this time, you barely noticed. your hand brushed against his where it rested on the railing, and instead of pulling away, he let his pinky hook around yours, the small gesture sending a wave of warmth through you.

and as hansol glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a smile that was just for you, you knew one thing for sure—you’d never stop having a crush on him. not now, not ever.

the song faded into the next, but neither of you moved to change it. the bus ride continued, but the world outside felt like it had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this small, crowded space.