#THERES STILL LIKE TWO HOURS LEFT
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For 400 years I looked up at the moon. Not a bad place to go….
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can you spot the wolf? 🐺🌙
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NOT TO LIVEBLOG THIS EPISODE BUT AHHHHH
#critical role#critical role art#critical role fanart#chetney pock o'pea#cr chetney#critical role campaign 3#critrole art#cr3#otohan thull#floweroflaurelin art#THERES STILL LIKE TWO HOURS LEFT#cr spoilers#critical role spoilers#cr3 spoilers#cw blood#edit after the episode ended: AHHHHHHHHH???? AHHHHHHHH
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restarting wegovy at 1 mg is not for the weak ive been throwing up every hour for three hours
#like pleeeeease theres nothing left in there let me get two more hours of sleep#itll get better as the day goes on but still not fun to have been sleeping in intervals of 45 ish minutes interrupted by throwing up
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i need to keep building back up my savings. No More Silly Little Treats, i keep getting distracted when i Need to spend money on stuff and then getting myself a silly little treat and forgetting im supposed to be saving and shouldnt be doing that a bunch
#got paid today and it was less than usual cause i left an hour early twice in a row and then did one full day then Burnt My Fingers#and couldnt work for two days#i didnt spend a bunch of last paycheck cause i got cash and a gift card for a thing and used that for things. i rounded this paycheck up-#and put it up in savings and im gonna take out like 50 cash to pay for snacks at work and Not Touch my card til next paycheck. i gotta.#espc after i paid so much for our trip i still gotta get my savings back to where it was and i keep FORGETTING to#by next paycheck my comms should be open and that will help too#i want to get chomp stickers to sell cause i know yall will love them#theres a wide audience of ppl who like biting and its getting closer to halloween so itd be Themeatic#but ill wait til after my first comm back cause one will pay for the cost of those#anyway !
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oghhhhh starting to get that kind of world-weary depression that comes when i dont have enough freetime to do fun shit
#ignorance cloud on#if my sleep was more consistent in when i fell asleep then i wouldnt need to prep like two hours just for Trying to fall asleep#which would give me more time for friends and goofing off after my shift#and if my sleep was more consistent then i wouldnt be as tired in the mornings meaning i could drink less caffeine#which would mean my heartrate could be slightly more normal and i wouldnt have this innate fear that im going to have a heart attack#whilst sleeping which i BARELY DO#talking it over with a doctor has me bummed as fuck like despite going to bed consistently by like 10:30-11:00 i dont fall asleep#until after 12 or even 1 MOST NIGHTS meaning i only get like 5 hours of sleep consistently#which like 5 is on the lower side i would say im probably getting consistently either 5.5 or 6 hours of sleep#which is still Bad and not healthy#and it makes me exhausted#but theres nothing i can do until i get a sleep study done#and theres no guarantee whatever they diagnose will even HELP#bc its like. im having trouble like Falling asleep its very rare that i have trouble Staying asleep#idk man. doctors appointment left me feeling bad and by the time i got home it was like 7#which is half of my night just GONE bc it takes me like thirty minutes to eat dinner#which i dont even want to eat anymore bc im so fat and overweight and dying from my heart beating too fast#WHAGEVER. SIGH.#just wasted like ten of my precious remaining minutes bitching on the internet but im too chickenshit to post in cringe comp#so onto my blog it goes. its better here
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the people in apartment 4 literally just moved in and i’m already beefing with them. who the fuck doesn’t set a timer for the communal washer.
#THERES ONLY ONE WASHER AND DRYER FOR SIX UNITS CMON#went down the first time and just left my basket down there to let them know i’m taking the next round. and an hour later#THEIR STUFF WAS STILL THERE#i went back upstairs to write an angry note and slammed the main door so they’d hear me (AND THEY DEF SAW ME BC THEY DONT HAVE CURTAINS YET)#and as soon as i went back down with the note the bitch was putting their stuff in the dryer#also like they’ve only been here for like two days there’s still boxes everywhere in their apartment why are you doing laundry already tf#UGH#chrysanthepost
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if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites
#this guy did jack shit for two full weeks when we're building the damn prototype#but STILL brought up the fact that most of our team blew off a report till the last minute in the beginning of march#*prototypes don't work* “sEe tHis iS wHy wE nEedEd tO hAvE a cOnvErsaTioN aBouT MS3”#like hon you lost the rights to the “y'all need to contribute more” argument the moment you left me hanging for 2-3 FUCKING WEEKS#like excuuuuuse me you been prioritizing extra curriculars all week get off your high horse stop lecturing everyone else about contribution#he made maybe 3 contributions? maybe?#first he 3D modeled an adapter and sent it to someone else to print (couldn't even do THAT himself smh)#then he sent the gc a sketch of an idea i roughly proposed literally the NIGHT BEFORE as his own contribution (that I ENDED UP BUILDING#then he...screwed on a few pipe fittings and called it a project :)#would be a LOT less pissed if he didn't show up to One Thing outside weekly team meetings/class#then apologize for slacking off BUT then launch into a FUCKING SPEECH ABOUT HOW HIM BEING HERE PROVES HIS COMMITTMENT#all because he DOESN'T LIKE GETTING UP EARLY. like sir. sir i am rIGHT FUCKING HERE. i was up till 4-5am working on this stfu#we've been building for three weeks and he's come into work on stuff wo me there ONCE for an HOUR#for context id spent about fifteen hours in the shop alone working on the fucking thing that WEEK#like im trying to be understanding ik tech week is hell#but i took “stepping back” as “i only have a few hours here and there to be in the shop and will do the writeups”#NOT “won't show up outside meetings AND we're splitting slides and writeups 80/20”#like id been in the lab all fuckin day and notice we have an assignment due (missed a SINGLE meeting due to exam)#and i ask him if theres anything i can do (and im thinking like look it over maybe add a spec or two)#and this fucker has the AUDACITY to ask me to write the full four paragraph summary cause he#*checks notes* copy-pasted some specs from milestone 3 so of COURSE its only fair that despite the fact I've been in the lab ALL DAY#that i write the four fuckin paragraphs too#course we're troubleshooting and he's like “did you clean the pump? did you disassemble it and rinse it?” like yes???#i did EVERYTHING i could think of before i even bothered texting you cause i know you're fucking useless#and then he raises fifteen different concerns which while valid would have been NICE TO HEAR WHEN I SENT YOU MY INITIAL DESIGNS#y'know BEFORE i spent over fifteen hours of my free time building this damn thing#with slackers i just pick up the work and move on with my life this idiot is trying to gaslight me into thinking that he contributed fairly#when i heard “i need to step back due to play stuff” i thought we'd be splitting it like 65:35 NOT FUCKING 95:5#and now hes probably going to give ME a poor peer review because I've been passive aggressive with him in the few meetings he showed up to#like i got shit going on too? how the fuck does he expect me to respond to being abandoned to do this shit myself
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daddy!johnb should have known there was a meltdown inbound from puppy!reader when she was being irritable with everyone. pup was always a ray of sunshine.
you’d been snappy with him towards the end of your day spent running about with the pogues, and when pulled up on it — your boyfriend pulling you to the back of the group walking back to the twinkie, a hand firmly on your lower back, as he mutters a low “hey, clip the attitude okay? this isn’t you.” you only responded with an agitated whine. maybe that’s when he should have checked in.
you explode in the twinkie not twenty minutes later after some more tsking from your boyfriend, pushing him away suddenly and raising your voice in the back of the car where he sat with you, luckily letting pope drive the crew home this time. “theres too much noise and i’m cold and wet and tired!” you erupt, shoving at him in the backseat, loud enough to earn an awkward side eye from kiara in the seat directly infront.
“alright, okay, hey — look at me.” the older boy croons, gripping you until you still in his grasp, letting out a few agitated sobs into his chest. he sighs, eyes all soft and sad that you’d probably feel guilty about if you saw. reluctantly, you claw your way out to look up at him urgently, like you were desperate for some answers. he melts.
meanwhile, sensing your little meltdown in the backseat the group get a little quieter out of respect— jj turning the radio up just a little bit to create a wall between the chatter and the two of you. you relax just a little bit in his grip.
“no need to freak out on me, okay?” his eyes are wide and yours are teary, breathing all heavy. he notices, placing a warm palm on your chest. “first of all, we’re gonna breathe.”
you follow his instructions — in and out, until your breathing pattern is somewhat regulated. he doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole time, john b was good like that. eye contact was his forte.
“okay, next problem. hit me.” he shrugs one shoulder and you shrink a little. “use your words, sweetheart. daddy’s listening, i just wanna help.”
“my clothes are wet.” you verbalise and he nods proudly before holding up a finger and lurching over the backseat to reach for one of his spare shirts he keeps in there for his days spent on the road. showing you, he then pulls it over your head and helps you take off your damp blue crop top beneath, tossing it into the back. he unclips your bikini top too, throwing it with the shirt whilst maintaining your dignity.
you sit, slumped and sleepy — looking a lot more comfortable and he guides your cheek with his finger to look at him once more.
“hey, what else?” he urges and you blink. before you can respond, you yawn. “okay.” he nods.
pulling you onto his lap in the backseat, john b stretches out as best as he could— rubbing your back up and down and leaning his lips down to your ear.
“so we got roughly… one hour left of this journey? i want you to take a nap. right here, bubba.” he holds you tightly, and you can’t help let out a few relieved sniffles— the long day having caught up to you big time. he was so attentive, it made you wonder what you did to deserve it. “i know sweet girl. everybody has days like these, okay?”
“even you daddy?” you rasp tiredly.
“oh yeah. especially me. big time.” he jests, before rocking you lightly to sleep in the quiet van.
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hi again, teehee. my request is just reader and scara who are enemies that got forced on a road trip by their mutual friends. the two are sitting at the back of the van, but reader has to sit on his lap cause theres not enough people!! that leads to reader cockwarming scara pretty dejectedly, cause she wanted a peaceful car ride; which ended up with her squirming in discomfort on his cock!! but of course, no one can see them cause they still have their clothes on!! byebyee 🫶
- 🎧
scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cockwarming. some humor. enemies to lovers. a bit of degrading sexting.
this request was a fun challenge for me to write since the situation doesn't offer room for dialogue😌
scaramouche hates you for a number of reasons. he hates that you smell good all the time. hates how your hair always looks so pullable. hates how soft your skin looks. hates how hard he can feel himself getting when argue back with him, and call him out on being on an asshole when he is in fact being an asshole.
and you hate scaramouche for plenty of very valid reasons. he is selfish, arrogant, and incredibly egotistical. rude and a bit self absorbed. you swore he purposely picked fights with people because he thought it was fun. he legit stuck his tongue out at like child, with this stupid fucking smirk that just wanted to kiss right off his face.
normally, you like being a passenger on road trips at night. there was just something so peaceful about just sitting and looking out the window and listening to music.
unfortunately for you, you got to enjoy none of those things.
sometimes, with road trips more people ended up coming along than there was even room for. which in turn left you sitting in scaramouche's lap. you are sore, there are so many so many ways you could sit in someone's lap. all you wanted to do was get to the hotel, check into your room and fall asleep cuddling your jeff the shark plush.
and to top it all off, scaramouche would not stop texting you. he was impossible to ignore, especially when he could clearly see you were trying to ignore him.
'you know, you can turn the other way if you want. i can brace my arm behind your back or you could rest it on my shoulder." you grit your teeth reading scaramouche's text message.
thing is he wasn't being nice. doing any of that would require you straddling him. this wasn't the first text you'd gotten from him like this. he much preferred this position. he could feel the heat between your legs right on his cock. the bumps in the road were easily felt sitting in the back of the van, shifting you in his lap and causing you inadvertently rub on his cock.
'are you cold?'
you sighed and texted back 'i am good sitting the way i am, thanks. and no, i am not cold.'
'okay, well i am so grab the blanket for me.'
you reached over and yanked the blanket back to you over the seat, and threw it at him. "the hell you are cold," you said your first words in hours outloud. you swore you heard him laughing even though you had ear buds in.
scaramouche maneuvered the blanket around the both of you. he wasn't an idiot, in fact he was very sure of a lot of things. you were undoubtedly sore, especially in your neck and back. and you are most definitely cold. you would have to change positions sooner or later.
you felt your phone vibrate in your hand again. 'look i am not exactly comfortable either.'
'didn't say you were.' you texted back, squirming a little in his lap. your body had been crying for awhile for you to change positions. you sighed heavily and moved so that you are straddling him. for the third time that night.
scaramouche sincerely thanked whatever stars aligned in his favor for the fact that you'd chose to wear a skirt that day, which was no doubt hiked up more than little hidden underneath the blanket. he was positive he could feel your panties up against his jeans, especially when the van went over a bump. especially.
'exactly, what with you grinding on my lap,' came another text.
you rolled your eyes, your hand tightening on your phone. 'oh like i plan every bump in the road,' you were more than aware of him between your legs, and feeling he was hard at times was unavoidable. and top it all off your phone battery was half way drained, being sucked up by scaramouche's texts.
you heard him sigh as a bump shifted you in his lap. 'you sure sound comfortable.' you texted.
'awfully concentrated on me, aren't we? you like this, don't you? or maybe you have thought about this?' you knew his text was a taunt. he knew he was close to stamping on your very last nerve.
'get over yourself.' he could feel how scathing your text was. and it was such a turn on for him.
'you really haven't thought about fucking me? not even once? be honest.' you grit your teeth, and looked up at him to see him raising at you with a smirk on his face. god he is so smug.
'no,' your response was quick and simple. but truth is, you had. you hated how smug he looked just knowing he was right. you had spent some long night thinking about him. shamelessly.
'i don't mind being in this position,' you admitted in a text back, feeling a little bad about how snappy you'd sounded. you thought he felt pretty good between your legs, becoming more than a little away of thick he really is. 'yes, i have thought about it,' your heart pounded realizing you had pressed send.
scaramouche looked up, surprised at your text. you hadn't given him a inch this entire time. you look so fucking adorable looking away from your phone screen shyly, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks.
slowly you looked down at your phone when scaramouche texted you again. 'you wanna cock warm me for awhile? it would be more comfortable for both of us.' it was ideal that a blanket was around the both of you.
'..are you serious?' you texted back, hardly believing how this had happened. your pussy has clenched just reading the text, as infuriating as his text was. scaramouche was making you realize how touch starved you were.
' ...yes.' you texted back. he made you realize just how badly you wanted his cock inside of you. you squirmed knowing it was probably going to be uncomfortable after a few hours, but the thought was making you wet.
scaramouche knew in a few hours you wouldn't care how uncomfortable it felt. you wouldn't feel any discomfort. you would be wet and squirming, soaking on his cock because the van going over bumps would nudge his cock head into your sweet spot at random consistency. he couldn't fucking wait.
no one noticed you shifting into a position to peel your panties aside, the blanket concealing your movement. to everyone else it would look like you were trying to alleviate stiffness in your muscles from sitting in one position to long.
scaramouche freed his now straining cock from his jeans, silently swallowing a groan as he maneuvered his cock inside of you. you lowered yourself back down into his lap. it helped he saw the struggle to not make noise in your eyes as his stretched you apart.
'remember to keep quiet, slut. or everyone will hear how good you feel to finally have my cock inside you,' your pussy clenched reading his degrading text. texts he kept on sending you. the van went over a well placed bump, nudging his cock right into your sweet spot.
your toes curled as you squirmed a little. scaramouche on the other hand was in heaven. his cock was finally inside the girl of his dreams in a very erotic way. he could sit back and enjoy your tight warmth squeezing around his cock, your pussy oozing juices feeling it throb.
he couldn't resist idly playing with your clit underneath the blanket while he scrolled through his phone. you had to thankful to be turned away from everyone. the throbbing in your swollen clit was almost unbearable, making his cock feel twice as good inside of you.
'go ahead, kitten. roll your hips a little, no one will notice. it will make you feel better.' he pinched your clit, wagging his finger on the sensitive nub while he texted you with one hand.
the shock of pleasure made your thighs quake under the blanket. you moaned loud in your head as your hips twitched to roll down onto his cock.
'you slut. fuck that felt good. do that too much and i am gonna cum inside you.' scaramouche texted back.
your breath hitched in your throat reading his text. more wet pooled onto your pussy reading his text. your hand shook as you texted back 'promise?' you could barely even think with his cock buried that deep inside you. you want to rub and grind against him, nuzzling his neck and licking at his mouth submissively while you told him how good his cock felt.
his response was quick. 'when we checked in at the hotel, you are coming to my room and i am fucking you raw.'
'yes, please.' you texted back. he knew you couldn't wait judging from how tight your pussy felt on his cock.
scaramouche gave you break after awhile. he would have to have his cock back in his pants well before arriving at the hotel. he kept you straddling his lap though.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#modern au#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
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hi! I love ur blogs sm! i was wondering if maybe you can do an angst-fluff scenario of mingyu getting jealousy and also a bit insecure with another guy talking with the reader?
𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 | k.mg
a/n: thanks for requesting! glad that you like my writing <33 i hope you like this one too 💗
p.s. wrote this in an hour?? theres like drafts rotting on my laptop but this takes an hour??? wth
word count: 1.8k contents: mingyu x fem!reader , established relationship , title from 'jealous' by nick jonas , as u can tell; mingyu gets jealous , mentions of past relationships , i used a random name for the ex , tiny bit of angst , mingyu gets insecure , hurt/comfort , fluff
mingyu hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of you.
under normal circumstances, you'd notice him and walk over to where he was standing and gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. you'd shoot him a teasing smirk and make some remark about how he's basically drooling all over the floor, and he'd accept it. he'd tell you that he doesn't feel even a tiny bit ashamed to be caught staring at his beautiful girlfriend.
but today wasn't normal.
it's been two hours since you arrived at seungcheol's housewarming party, and for the last thirty minutes, you've been talking to him.
jung eunseok.
he was the man who had left you heartbroken six years ago, which is when mingyu met you and resolved to make you happier than your ex ever could.
he was also the man you've been conversing with for the better part of an hour, and mingyu isn't too sure of how the conversation seems to be going so well, given that eunseok had abruptly ended your relationship with one single text and no further communication.
he trusts you. he's seen you live through the heartbreak and recover, and he knows you won't do anything to hurt him.
still.
he doesn't like the way eunseok smiles at you, he doesn't like the way you're laughing at his words, he doesn't like anything about the interaction.
"woah, you're gonna break that glass with your bare hands if you keep doing that," says someone from beside him, and mingyu turns to see seungkwan give him a knowing glance.
"i-i wasn't doing anything," mingyu tries to cover it up, not wanting to come across as the 'possessive' boyfriend who gets jealous too quickly.
"you're not fooling me," seungkwan rolls his eyes. "look, if you don't want her talking to that guy, just tell her. y/n won't take it in a bad way. but you need to be transparent with her for her to know that you're feeling uncomfortable, yeah?" he advises, patting mingyu's shoulder before walking away.
if only it was that easy.
when mingyu met you all those years ago, you had initially refused all his attempts to take you out on a date in favor of your recent breakup leaving your life messy and disorganized. mingyu had still stuck by your side, wanting to help you get better, which slowly earned him your trust.
before he was your boyfriend, he was your confidant, your pillar of support amidst all the chaos. you had told him all about eunseok and the breakup, and mingyu had sworn that he'd give your ex a piece of his mind if he ever met him.
yet, he remains frozen in his place, even when eunseok is just across the room.
"mingyu, oh my god, just go!" comes jeonghan's voice next. "you're burning holes into the guy's louis vuitton suit with that stare of yours, and trust me, it isn't very cheap."
mingyu inhales deeply, trying to gather courage to face eunseok. he grabs jeonghan's glass of something and downs it in one gulp, cringing at the bitter after taste of alcohol.
"liquid courage," he explains to his friend, before he's making his way to the kitchen. he confidently steps in next to you, sliding an arm around your waist and kissing your temple.
"hi baby, was wondering where you went off to," mingyu smiles at you, reveling in the kiss you press to his cheek.
"i was getting myself a drink, but then i ran into eunseok here!" you tell him. "eunseok, meet mingyu. mingyu, meet eunseok." you quickly introduce them, as if mingyu needed anymore of an introduction to your ex.
he curtly shakes eunseok's hand, looking dead into his eyes and saying, "kim mingyu, her boyfriend."
"yeah, y/n mentioned that earlier," eunseok smugly smiles, as if sensing mingyu's jealousy. "i must say, it's nice to meet the man who's making her happy after me, y'know?"
mingyu feels your body stiffen against his side at eunseok's words.
"eunseok, i don't think it's appropriate for you to say that," you cut in firmly.
"oh! i didn't realize my words would strike a nerve," he gives you both a fake smile. "i apologize, mingyu-ssi. i was just curious to see who could've been treating y/n this well after all these years."
"eunseok, enough," you grit your teeth together, and you can tell by the way mingyu's grip on your waist tightens that the both of you immediately want to take leave of eunseok's presence. "anyways, we should head home now, i'm tired." you look up at mingyu, and his eyes light up.
"what a shame, i would've loved to catch up some more," eunseok drawls, leaning against the counter and shamelessly looking you up and down.
"i hope we never have to again," you give him a tight smile, and then you're leaving the kitchen with mingyu. you both congratulate seungcheol on his new house, and quickly leave the party.
—
mingyu is uncharacteristically quiet on the drive back home, and you can tell it's because of what happened at the party.
"gyu, are you okay?" you ask him softly, noting how he grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white.
"i didn't know you were still on talking terms with him," his tone is clipped, and you know that he's annoyed. "i thought he broke your heart all those years ago, y/n."
"he did, mingyu," you sigh. "i swear i didn't let the conversation last that long. i was just being polite because he approached me first."
"why didn't you just leave? you don't owe him an explanation," mingyu counters. "you just stayed there, laughing and smiling at him, while i felt like an idiot because my girlfriend was chatting with her ex-boyfriend for almost an hour!"
"were you jealous?" you ask him, not realizing that your actions affected him to this extent.
"of course i was, y/n," mingyu sighs exasperatedly. "he's your rich ex-boyfriend. he was the one who took you to paris and rome twice a year. he was the one buying you expensive gifts. and i know i'm dating you now, but i've never felt more insecure before anyone."
"mingyu," you whisper, hand reaching out to hold his free one. "you don't have to feel that way about anyone. you're the only one i love, so my past relationships don't matter at all. not when i'm the happiest with you."
mingyu's eyes are trained on the road ahead of him, and he stays silent up until you reach home. you stay quiet too, letting him take his time to sort out how he's feeling.
it's only later, when you've both changed into pajamas and you're in the middle of your skincare routine when mingyu talks again.
"it's so stupid and immature, but i felt jealous because i couldn't help but think he was... better than me," mingyu starts, and you turn to face him. his shoulders are drooping, and he won't even meet your gaze.
"i know how broken you were when he left you, but seeing him with you tonight, it just made me wonder if you would think that he's changed, or that you still want him back. it's wrong of me to think that way about you, i know, but my mind couldn't stop running through all these possibilities. what if you didn't love me as much as you loved him? what if you wanted to leave me to-"
"gyu, baby, slow down," you whisper. caught up in his rambling, he hadn't even noticed when you walked over to the edge of the bed where he was sitting, now standing between his legs and gently running your hands through his hair to calm him down.
"it's okay that you felt jealous and insecure, i'm not mad at you," you assure him, making sure to look into his eyes as you speak so he knows you're genuine with your words. "i can promise you that the conversation meant nothing to me. plus, he really hasn't changed; he's the same self-centered bastard he was all those years ago. i was only stuck there because he couldn't stop bragging about all his success and fame."
"mingyu, i'd never leave you for anyone else, because you're it for me," you admit truthfully. "no one's made me feel more special or happy than you have, and the expensive gifts and trips don't matter. my favorite place to be is with you, and with how much you do for me, i don't need any other gifts. you understand me?"
mingyu nods, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in a hug, his head resting on your chest.
"thank you," he mutters, and you feel the words being spoken against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. "i love you so much. i was just being paranoid about losing you."
"you don't have to be," you smile at him. "i love you too, and i'm staying with you forever. no one can take that away, yeah?"
mingyu abruptly falls back onto the bed, pulling you along with him. after a bit of shuffling around, you're both under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms.
you lay with your head rested against mingyu's chest, but you can sense that he's still thinking about something.
"is something still bothering you?" you ask. "we can talk about it, if it makes you feel better."
"i'm just regretting how things went down with eunseok at the party," mingyu sighs dramatically. "i had always told myself that if i ever came across your ex, i'd step in as the cool, better boyfriend, maybe even give him a piece of my mind. but all i did was get intimidated by that shiny watching hanging off his wrist."
you laugh at how mingyu is pouting, and you playfully shove his chest. "that watch was a rip-off, don't worry. but, if you feel like you need a re-match, we could always just set up another meeting with eunseok-"
"nope, not at all," mingyu stops you, kissing your lips as an interruption. "i never wanna see him around you ever again."
"you don't have to worry about it," you tell him. "i've got my own six-foot pole to poke him away with if he ever gets too close."
"a six-foot pole- wait. did you just call me a pole?" mingyu gasps, realization finally striking him, making you burst into laughter.
"well, what do you prefer?" you joke. "you're literally built like a long pole."
"a sexy, scary bodyguard would be a better description," mingyu sulks.
"sexy, i can agree with. scary? not so much," you tease, and mingyu's pout only deepens.
"whatever, any name works, as long as we're not bumping into him anymore," mingyu gives in, and you kiss him sweetly as reassurance.
"it doesn't matter even if we bump into him, because i only have eyes for you," you promise, and mingyu squeals like a little girl before diving in to press soft kisses to your entire face.
the night ends like that, with both of you giggling under the covers, safe in each other's arms, and filled with a love that will never fade.
- fin.
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Can I request hcs about the batboys being a top/switch/bottom please? 💕
🥀A/n: YESSSSS!!! btw i will be yapping ab the differences between sub/bottom and dom/top 💀
🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader
🥀Cw: smut, dom/sub dynamics, implied switch!reader, switch!character
🥀minors dni
Dick Grayson:
i feel like Dick is a pleasure dom, he cares a lot about making you feel good and that often leads to him bottoming while still being dominant. he likes when you ride him and take what you need, but he simultaneously wants to be in control
out of the three, Dick is probably the most naturally dominant and is the one to prefer domming the most- i think he's a bit of a control freak like that, he won't outwardly show it but submitting is just something that doesn't come naturally to him
however, i do think he gets worked up a lot and needs to get his mind off of things, so that would be an opportunity for him to enter a more submissive role. that would take a bit of time, but once he trusts you, Dick will definitely be down to sub.
prefers to be a subtop, he likes rutting into you desperately and having you coo and tease him for taking you so desperately
as i've previously stated, when he's domming, Dick is a pleasure dom. your pleasure comes before his, and he's very adamant about making you feel good. while he's down to try anything that you want, he wouldn't be into physically hurting you or super hardcore bdsm, but i do think he can be a bit mean at times. he's a HUGE tease with insane stamina and will edge you for literal hours until your begging, then overstimulate you until you cry
however, when it comes to subbing? he's either a whiny brat or a genuine sweetheart.
when he's bratty, Dick will tease you and mock you for not fucking him hard enough, he wants you to be mean to him and fuck him absolutely stupid until theres not a single thought left in his brain
he's also into kinkier things, he wants you to treat him like the mindless slut he knows he can be. its kind of a corruption kink, in the sense that everyone always views him as the perfect golden child. you're the only one who gets to see how needy and horny he actually is, and he genuinely views subbing as an opportunity for him to be as kinky and depraved as he would like without judgement. it's actually kind of sweet that he feels safe enough around you to show you that side of him
speaking of sweet, Dick is not always a brat when subbing. sometimes, everything is a bit too much, and instead of wanting to be fucked out of his mind, he just wants to be taken care of. these days, he's more clingy during sex, needing your praise and attention at all times. Dick is a lot more susceptible to slipping into subspace during these times, in which he'll cry and cling to you, desperate for just one more climax.
a lot of the time his brattiness will slowly melt into his softer, needier side, and theres an important distinction between the two. when he's acting out and being bratty, Dick craves your attention, and enjoys being degraded and mocked. however, when he's more emotionally vulnerable and soft, he can't take any degradation without crying.
after subbing, Dick is a lot clingier during aftercare as well, especially if you were being mean to him. please reassure him you didn't mean anything that you said when degrading him, he's still in a sensitive state of mind and needs that reassurance
overall, i think the sexual roles Dick falls into most are pleasure dom and sort of a pillow princess sub (yes ik thats a wlw term but idk how else to describe it im sorry 😭) and he's overall very versatile during sex
Jason Todd:
bottom 🫵🫵🫵
in all seriousness though, Jason is a very versatile switch in my opinion. he's a lot more inclined to subbing than the others, and is actually more comfortable bottoming than topping. he's a strong guy, he's fucking huge, and he's constantly afraid of accidentally hurting you. when he's bottoming, its eases some of his worries about accidentally crushing or hurting you
Jason is either a strict dom, a power bottom/dom bottom, or a genuine sub in my opinion.
some days he's a strict dom, and s but of a brat tamer. i also see him being a bit of a sadist, but only if you were 1000% into it and if you had established safewords. he's whispering filthy words in your ear and talking to you like your trash, but treating you so sweetly that your brain goes fuzzy. its just so confusing when he's fucking you so well, and every thought is engulfed by the rising pleasure in your abdomen.
Jason is any type of dom that you need, if you're tired and needy and want his attention, then he'll gladly take care of you and be all sweet and gentle. however, if you're acting out and being bratty on purpose to get a rise out of him, then he'll treat you as such.
he's a bit meaner like this, and while he's still prioritizing your pleasure, he's definitely the one in total control. however he's very insistent on using safe words and making sure your comfortable, he would never everrr want to hurt you
i think Jason would enjoy battling for dominance, especially if your a switch as well. theres something very carnal and attractive about you both struggling to stay in control, and seeing which one of you will end up on top
i also see Jason as a power bottom though, in all physical senses he's subbing but you both know he has control. this also makes him feel a bit safer about hurting you, as your the one taking what you need and controlling your position, however he still is the one calling the shots. he's sweeter like this, praising you and cooing sweet nothings as you ride him.
i do also believe he can be a sub tho. he prefers simultaneously subbing and bottoming, because while it is more vulnerable, it also gives him the opportunity to relax. when he's a sub and topping, Jason is often too fucked out to pay attention to how tight he's holding you and whether or not he's hurting you. being on the bottom assures him that he won't have to worry, and that he can just let his mind go blissfully blank. Jason is very comfortable subbing with someone he trusts, and he can be a bit of a masochist at times.
Jason is a very needy sub, he wants to be taken care of and fucked out of his mind. he's a lot more vocal when subbing, but still prioritizes your pleasure and comfort over his own.
overall, once he feels safe with you, Jason is comfortable in many different sexual positions and will honestly usually just let you take the lead and decide how you want the night to go
Bruce Wayne:
again, another switch. i feel like Bruce is the most mellow out of the three, especially as he's older, and isn't as up to date with sexual roles and things like that. he's familiar witth some of the basics, but in all honesty he's down to try whatever you would like
whether or not he doms or subs truly depends on his mood, and he has no preference about topping or bottoming
when he's pent up or irritated, Bruce prefers to dom, taking the lead and making love to you. i think he's a brat tamer more than anything else, if you act out he'll treat you as rough as you like but if you want him to, he can be soft as well.
Bruce is a very attentive dom, taking note of everything you like and dislike while observing your reactions. he only really doms when he feels like it, so he's a little bit miffed if you try to take control. Bruce is the biggest control freak out of the three of them, and wants everything to be perfect when it comes to you both sleeping together. this often leads to him overthinking and getting into his own head a little, however that can easily be remedied
when he subs, Bruce is a little shy. it may seem out of character, but admitting to weakness is not something that comes naturally to him and so he tends to clam up and wait for you to take the lead. that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying himself, he just needs some time to adjust
it took Bruce SO long to realize he was a switch like he spent most of his life internalizing his desires because people always assumed he was a top/dom. once he's dating you, he becomes increasingly interested in subbing, but you'd probably have to be the first to initiate that kind of thing
because he's never had the opportunity to sub for most of his life, Bruce starts to develop a preference for it. that doesn't mean he doesn't dom anymore though, and he's definitely still very much a switch.
with the right partner i can definitelyyyyyy see him being bratty, but most of the time he's pretty tame. Bruce is often very tired when he's subbing, and takes it as an opportunity for him to relax and let you take the reins. i think he's the type to slip into subspace VERY easily and become very talkative because of that. he's not vocal at all leading up to that, but once he slips into his own little headspace he's suddenly moaning like a pornstar and getting all clingy and needy!
all in all, i see Bruce as a switch leaning sub who is more than willing to accommodate any of your sexual preferences
this got, like, weirdly deep and analytical for what was supposed to be smutty hcs 😭😭😭 anyways!!! hope u enjoyed!!! i really cannot tell if i like this or not so plspslplssss lmk what yall think ♥️
#dc x reader#dc smut#dc imagine#dc headcanon#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd#red hood#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne#batman#dick grayson smut#jason todd smut#bruce wayne smut#dick grayson imagine#jason todd imagine#bruce wayne imagine#nightwing imagine#red hood imagine#batman imagine
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moron
I own you. The words practically drip from your rose coated lips, meant only for Steve, and he knows he’s lost. “Yeah, whatever.” And it’s agreed. Come this Saturday, you and Steve will be working together. No one else, just the two of you, for eight long, maddening hours.
Summary: steve really hates his coworker, but you know who he hates even more ? your shitty ex boyfriend (who he just so happens to share jacket preferences with)
Rating: general, violence, lots of swearing
Warnings: allusions to abuse, use of bitch as derogatory language towards women, shitty ex boyfriend, violence, enemies to lovers (more friends), fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 3.9k
Before you swing in: hey gang !! long time no stevie blurb, so here yall go <3 please, read the warnings for this one. theres a really shitty character in this and he may be triggering, so please be safe.
-
Steve doesn’t consider himself a bad guy.
Sure, he had the whole “King Steve” stint back in high school where he was an asshole to everyone, but he chooses to ignore those four years of his life. They were a brief lapse of judgment.
A very long, brief lapse of judgment. But whatever.
The point is that Steve opens the door for strangers. He greets everyone with a smile and a polite nod of his head. When Robin forgets her lunch at work, Steve always gives her his. He walks his neighbor’s dog, he offers to carry groceries for the elderly. Hell, he even waves at babies.
By all accounts, Steve would consider himself a goddamn saint.
Except when it comes to you.
Steve isn’t holding open any fucking doors for you and if you ever asked him to walk your dog, he’d laugh in your face. The moment you stepped foot in Family Video for your first shift, you made Steve’s life a living hell. He doesn’t know why or how you manage to dig so deep under his skin, but he’s convinced you do it on purpose.
The movies you stack on the shelf always somehow manage to land on Steve’s head. The jokes you make with Robin are always at his expense. You never clock in on time, extending his shift by one more minute every goddamn time. The way you laugh pierces Steve’s skull, the sound rings in his ears and blinds his senses long enough to feel nauseous.
Steve likes everyone, he isn’t a hard guy to please, but he truly, deeply, hates you.
“Y/N wanted me to ask if you’d cover her shift this weekend,” Robin scans a beat up copy of Grease, trying to feign indifference as she brings the topic up. She absolutely doesn’t want to be doing this, she knows that any mention of you to Steve makes his eye twitch, but you called her crying and Robin is far too sympathetic for her own good.
Predictably, Steve’s eye twitches and he snatches the movie from his coworker. “What, did she fall and hit her head this morning?” He scoffs, he can’t believe you even thought he’d consider the idea. “She knows I’d rather her show up with a broken arm and matching black eye to work before ever covering her shift.”
“Okay, that’s psychotically cruel. You know that, right?” Robin scans another movie and shakes her head. Steve hates you, she gets that, and while she doesn’t understand why, she also doesn’t like how much of an asshole he is about it. You’re her friend, too. Robin really likes you.
“Good, I meant for it to be.”
“Steve, she’s going through a hard time right now–”
“No, I don’t wanna hear it, alright? I don’t care if her grandma died and left her an orphan,” the sound of the bell above Family Video’s front door rings, but Steve is too lost in his rant to hear it. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever, ever helping that demonic witch of a human being.”
Robin’s eyes widen and she tries to cover the teen’s mouth, hissing his name, but Steve bats her hand away and keeps going. “Y/N is a fucking moron for thinking otherwise, and that’s her problem. I mean, I know she’s your friend, which I still don’t know how she even managed to do that, but–”
“Steve!” Again Robin tries to get her friend to stop talking, but Steve is on a roll now. He’s fired up, tired of biting his tongue for the last six months.
“She makes me want to physically tear my skin off and shove it down my throat every time she opens her mouth. And I’m being nice right now. I mean, I will gladly say this all to her tiny, annoying face–”
“Oh, you would?”
Immediately Steve’s voice dies and his words fall down upon his shoulders. He doesn’t dare turn around. He’s frozen. He’s convinced himself that if he doesn’t move then he can linger in the remaining few seconds where he hasn’t just said all those horrendous things with you standing right behind him.
Robin drops her head onto the counter and groans. “You’re an idiot, Harrington.”
“Well, are you going to turn around?” Your breath almost fans Steve’s neck, you’ve walked up to him. He can practically envision the curl in your eyebrows whenever you get angry. An expression Steve has become familiar with.
He gulps, still refusing to turn around. “You know, I really don’t think I can turn around.” His legs shake. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever fucked up this horribly before, and he’s fucked up a lot in his life.
“Robin,” you turn your attention to her, the edge in your voice is the only indication of your anger. “Please inform our coworker that it’s inappropriate to use that language in a workplace, and please also inform him that I will no longer be needing him to cover my shift.”
“You… Don’t?” Robin looks between you and Steve. He still hasn’t looked at you yet, his face stares straight as if he’s trying to somehow disintegrate. You, however, face her with a steely look in your eyes, which surprises her. She thought there’d be more heartbreak in them. “I-I mean, are you sure? All things considered…”
“I’m fine.” The way you say it leaves no room for arguments. It’s already been decided, and Robin knows not to try and reason with you. She deflates, and you’re pleased with this. Even though her sympathy is unneeded, you can use it to your advantage. You’re going to make Steve pay. “In fact, I think you should inform our coworker that he’s covering your shift this weekend.”
Robin chokes on her spit, startled, while Steve finally turns to face you. “I’m sorry?”
“Aw, it’s okay, Harrington.” You pat his chest, albeit with more force than probably necessary, which he huffs at. “But I think the apology will work even better after spending some quality time together.”
You’re going to spend the entire eight hour shift making Steve’s life hell on earth. And he knows it.
“But–”
“Say, Robin. What’s the company policy on harassment of employees?” You tap your finger against your chin with a menacing smile on your face. You’re enjoying this, and Steve hates you even more for that. “Doesn’t it say something about verbal insults?”
Steve sends the girl a pleading glance, begging her not to respond, but she can only shake her head at him. He’s the one who couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. Sighing, Robin nods. “Yeah, it does.”
“I thought it did! Thanks, Buckley.” You wink at her before facing Steve again. He almost flinches at the coldness in your eyes. He’s so, so fucked. “Harrington, I’m sure you simply forgot, and I’m sure I can let bygones be bygones after you cover our dear friend’s shift. Yeah?”
I own you.
The words practically drip from your rose coated lips, meant only for Steve, and he knows he’s lost.
“Yeah, whatever.”
And it’s agreed. Come this Saturday, you and Steve will be working together. No one else, just the two of you, for eight long, maddening hours.
–
When Steve arrives at work Saturday, you’ve already clocked in.
He finds you sitting at the cash register, looking over the shipment for tomorrow. Sundays are the restock days, and the lists of orders are a pain in the ass to get through. It can take hours, sometimes even days, to comb through. When you see Steve walk in, you give him an icy smile. “Oh, perfect timing!”
“We’re supposed to get here at eight.”
“And being early never hurt anyone.” Although you’re never early, you’re always late, and both of you know this. You scratch something off from the list, eyes never leaving Steve, and he can’t help but feel that the rough scratch of the pen is meant to symbolize his face.
“What do you want?” Steve is too tired to play your games. He recognizes that he was a grade A asshole to you a few days ago, but this is going too far.
You flick your hair behind your shoulder and straighten your posture. The gesture casts a cloud of a sickly sweet pomegranate scent over to Steve, causing him to sneeze violently. He’s always hated the perfume you wear. Smiling at the desired effect, you finally shove the restock lists towards him. “I need you to start sorting through next week’s orders.”
Steve looks at the lists and nearly cries. There’s at least thirty pages in the stack, doubled sided, with five columns and fifty rows. This is the largest shipment order he’s ever seen since working at Family Video, he can’t even believe it’s real.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Nope!” You hop down from the counter and walk over to the cart of returned movies. “Now, I’d get started if I were you. You know how much Keith hates it when we don’t get Sunday’s orders in on time.”
Your figure disappears behind a shelf of movies and Steve pretends to strangle you with his bare hands. You planned this. He doesn’t know how, but you did. If he didn’t have a reason to hate you so much, now he does.
Hours pass by, you don’t at all speak to Steve as he labors over the shipments. Family Video requires the employees to manually input all the orders into the computer to send to the supply chain. The process alone is impractical and takes longer than it should, but pair that with the shitty computers that Keith refuses to upgrade, it makes Steve contemplate running into the road. The browser crashes three separate times. At one point he loses track of which movie he’d been on and has to restart an entire row at number forty-three.
It’s the worst fucking five hours of Steve’s entire life.
Meanwhile, all you do those five hours is browse through some online catalog on the other computer and help a total of two customers who come in.
By the time Steve has finally finished inputting everything, words float around his vision and he can feel the beginning stages of a headache forming. The pressure sits right behind his left eye, dull and throbbing.
All because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut.
Steve should really learn to listen to Robin.
“Are you all done?” You materialize next to Steve, startling him and he lets out an embarrassing shriek, which you snicker at. “Wow, Harrington. You’re really tense today.”
He rolls his eyes and steps away from you. “Gee, I wonder why.”
“Yeah, who knows!” Steve glares at you and you smile right back at him. “Anyways, since you finished up so fast, why don’t you sort through the backorders next? It shouldn’t take you that long.”
The backorders.
Steve wants to fucking scream.
The backorders are all the movies that the store can’t input into the system. They’re orders that get messed up, misplaced, and abandoned in Keith’s disgusting office. The pile of discarded movies has grown so large that it rivals Steve’s height and build. It’s its own entity at this point. A terrifying, breakdown inducing entity.
You’re a fucking evil genius.
But if Steve even looks at the backorders, he thinks he might actually murder you.
“No,” he crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified and intimidating than he really feels. Awkwardly placing his weight on his left foot, he purposely ducks his head down to emphasize how much taller he is than you. “No way in hell am I going through the backorders.”
“I wonder what Keith would say when I tell him all the wonderful things you said about me on Wednesday,” you step forward, angling your head up to get a better look at Steve. You want him to see all the hatred you have for him in your eyes.
What he said about you hurt. There’s no other way to put it. His words had been venom upon your skin, searing the flesh as it left a nasty scar. The wound has festered ever since, making your already shitty week even worse.
Steve had called you “fucking moron”. Just like he had.
“Oh, screw company policy and whatever that asshole Keith says!” Steve doesn’t care anymore if he has a job by the end of today. He’s had enough of your shitty mind games and power plays. He may have been a dick, but he doesn’t deserve any of this, either. The strenuous labor and migraines. “I’m done, alright? You’re being such a–”
“Bitch?” A gruff voice chuckles, interrupting. Steve, surprised to hear another male voice in the store, quickly turns around.
The guy is tall, taller than Steve. That’s the first thing he notices. Then he notices the cold blue of his eyes and the way your entire body freezes in fear when you see him. Steve moves your body behind his, unconsciously putting you out of harm’s way, protecting you from whoever the hell this guy is in front of him. It’s instinctual, he doesn’t hesitate.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is, calling you a bitch?
“I would never call her that,” Steve squares his shoulders, putting ice into his words as he does so. He wouldn’t. He was going to call you a child. Steve would never call a woman a bitch, his mother raised him better than that and Robin would hit him if he ever did.
The guy laughs again. “You sure about that, buddy?”
“Jack,” Steve almost doesn’t hear you, you’re barely audible. He’s never heard your voice so soft before, so weak and scared; he decides he never, ever wants to be the cause of this voice. “You can’t be here.”
“Says who? I don’t see anybody kickin’ me out.” The guy, Jack, shrugs indifferently. He stuffs his hands into his jacket, it’s made of a nice, suede material that Steve is ashamed to admit he’d wear himself. “I wanted to see you, sweetheart.”
Jack tries to step closer to you, but Steve blocks him. “Funny, I thought she was a bitch?”
“Bitch, sweetheart, easy fuck, fucking moron.” Jack laughs, only this time it’s cruel. “It’s all the same when it comes to Y/N.”
Fucking moron.
Steve had said the same about you. A heavy weight of shame crushes his chest. He should’ve never called you such a cruel name. He knows that, now.
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” Steve sneers, hand now coming around your arm as if terrified Jack will pull you away from him. “What the hell is your problem, man?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business? This is a conversation between me and the sweetheart over here.” Jack tries to reach for you again, but Steve shoves the guy away. He stumbles back, a wicked smile on his face. “Oh, the pretty boy can fight?”
“Steve,” You finally speak again, trying to shove yourself between the two men. The room grows hot and you don’t want anyone getting hurt. Not here, not with Steve. “Just leave it alone, walk away–”
Only Jack grabs your arm and viciously pulls, causing a pained yelp to escape you. A nerve pinches in your shoulder, he sends your body flying forward. His grip is harsh, it will leave bruises tomorrow, and you’re weak against him. Fear chokes you, he always does this.
“Don’t touch her.” Steve’s fist collides with Jack’s face, starbursts of pain explode in his wrist but he doesn’t care. All he sees is red now. Jack hurt you. He caused you to cry out in pain. Steve punches him again, the sound of pain you made rings in his ears, turns his blood cold and his anger boiling hot.
Jack recovers from the punches quickly and he raises his fist, but you try to get him away from Steve. “Stop!”
The fist comes down, you brace for impact, helpless against it, but the sound of skin hitting skin is all you’re met with. You open your eyes, Jack’s fist is in Steve’s palm. Stunned, Jack is too slow to pull away before Steve wraps his arm around his and twists it behind his back. The muscles strain, the ligament cries in pain as Jack’s arm is pulled dangerously far back.
“Fuck!” Jack screams, contorting his body desperately to get out of the death lock he’s in.
“You’re going to leave,” Steve hisses into his ear, “and you’re going to never, ever come back. If you even look at Y/N again I swear,” he mercilessly pulls even harder on Jack’s arm, the bone threatens to snap, but he doesn’t care. “I will break every bone in your fucking body.”
And with that, Steve finally releases Jack, who crashes pathetically to the ground. The moment he’s freed, he scrambles to his feet and cradles his sprained arm. He’s panting, no longer the confident and arrogant asshole he once was when he walked into Family Video ten minutes prior.
“Fuck you,” Jack spits out at Steve, but he’s already walking backwards towards the door to leave. “That bitch isn’t worth it, anyways.”
The door slams closed.
Silence fills the void that the violence left behind.
Steve shakes out his wrist, wringing out the pain from the punches. His knuckles are red, raw, bruising with every passing second. He brings the injured hand closer to inspect it, wincing at the inflamed skin.
“You’re hurt.”
Your eyes linger on the blood that leaks from his knuckles. The skin has split, but the pain that the nerve endings scream over soothes Steve. He shakes his hand out again as he shakes his head at you. “I’m fine.”
But you don’t believe him.
Carefully, slowly, you bring your uninjured hand over Steve’s injured one. Your touch is gentle, hesitant. The pads of your fingers skim over the bruising that litters Steve’s skin. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no.” Steve pulls his hand away, he doesn’t like what the image of his injury is doing to you. He’s not used to your tenderness, the sympathy you blanket him with. Besides, he isn’t the only one who got hurt. Steve instead brings your hand up, holding your wrist delicately as he sucks in a breath seeing the bruises Jack left. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”
You don’t say anything.
Steve kisses the damaged skin, he feels you shiver beneath his lips. He isn’t sure why he does it, he just knows that he wishes he could physically remove the burn of the bruises from your memory.
Minutes pass, the silence is all that is spoken.
Eventually the two of you get back to work. There’s still two more hours before either of you can leave, even if the thought of staying in the store suffocates you. No other customers come in. It’s just you and Steve, matching bruises to keep you guys company.
When four in the afternoon comes along, Steve clocks both of you out and locks the store up. He doesn’t let you do a single thing. He insists on having you sit by the window as he finishes the last restock orders and closes the door. His hand softly guides you outside, lingering on your waist as he locks the store’s doors for the night.
“Alright, well…” Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t know what else to say to you. “Guess I’ll just, you know, leave–”
“Please don’t leave me alone.”
His breath catches. You stare up at him, eyes wide with fear and vulnerability and despair. “I…”
“Please,” you can’t walk home alone. Not tonight. Not after everything that happened today. “I just…”
Without saying anything, Steve’s hand finds yours, and he walks you to his car. He opens the door for you, closes it softly behind you once you get in. He gets into his own seat, turns the radio on and fiddles with the stations until he finds the one he knows you like. Every time you have a shift together, you play the same station and sing along to all your favorite songs.
It used to drive Steve insane.
Now he’s relieved he can do this one thing for you.
The drive is quiet. The only conversation that is made is mumbled directions to your house. It isn’t a far drive, but Steve takes his time anyways. He doesn’t know if you have anyone to go home to, he knows you haven’t stopped shaking quite yet.
“Turn here,” your voice is hoarse from lack of use.
Steve listens, turns into a neighborhood he’s unfamiliar with. He thinks he’s nearing your home and he isn’t ready to let you go just yet. He knows you have to talk about what happened today. The bruises on his knuckles will fade, but the memory of Jack’s cruel words won’t.
“So,” He clears his throat. He’s doing the right thing, he knows he is. “Jack. He was…?”
You’re quiet for several moments and Steve is afraid he’s ruined everything, pushed you too far, but eventually you respond. “Ex boyfriend. Broke up a week ago. He didn’t take it well.”
“I hate him.”
Despite the fatigue that weighs upon you and the dread that Jack will come back, you can’t help but laugh at what Steve has said. “Yeah, I guess I do, too.”
Silence falls again. Steve pulls into your driveway, he turns the car off, the headlights die, but neither one of you move.
“You’re not, you know.”
You finally face Steve, confused as to what he’s referencing. “What?”
“You’re not a ‘fucking moron’. And you’re definitely not a bitch.” He clarifies, eyes meeting yours. You’re almost breathless by how brightly they shine with remorse. You’ve never known a man who felt such an emotion. “Jack is a dick, and so was I.”
“Steve…”
He doesn’t let you pity him. He knows what he did was wrong, the words that fell from his mouth about you will haunt him forever. Steve may not have liked you, but he didn’t have any right to say those things about you. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”
There’s nothing to forgive.
Steve isn’t Jack. You know that, now.
“It’s okay. I think I made you go through enough today, anyways.” You nudge his shoulder with yours, risking physical affection just this once. “First the restock orders and then defending my honor? I think we’re even.”
“I was pretty heroic, wasn’t I?” Steve tries to laugh, play along, but it’s bitter on his tongue. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself for how much he hurt you.
Noticing his darkened expression, you poke Steve’s cheek. “Hey, you’re not allowed to brood. I’m the one whose crazy ex showed up at work today.” But it doesn’t work, he doesn’t laugh and you know he blames himself for everything. “Look at me, Steve.”
Night has fallen and the honey brown in Steve’s eyes resembles darkened ash. You place your hand on his, careful not to disturb his bruises. “I forgive you, but if you insist on being such an annoying jerk about it, then you can make it up to me by being my friend.”
“Your friend?” Steve doesn’t pull his hand away from yours, and it’s a start.
“Yup, think you can handle that?”
“‘Friends’,” he lets the word roll over his tongue. Tests it out, gets a feel for what it would be like to call you his friend. He thinks he likes the way it feels, the weight that accompanies it is one that settles his chest, soothes his wounds. “I guess I can be okay with that.”
He smiles at you, then, and you smile back.
You’re beautiful when you smile; warm, angelic.
Steve doesn’t consider himself a bad guy, but by all accounts, he considers you a goddamn saint.
-
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#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x fem#stranger things#m's writing#angst with happy ending#enemies to lovers#kinda#in theory#more like homies turned future lovers
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MISTER TUTOR ꒰⚘݄꒱ YUKIMIYA KENYU
[NSFW] SYNOPSIS : yukimiya kenyu is your tutor. by extension, he is also your favourite victim to tease. also by extension, you two always end up in the exact same way each and every tutoring session.
note : hi this is smut !!!! mostly pwp so heh. heh. theres a severe lack of kenyu fics on tumblr and everywhere honestly so i decided to be a good samaritan and do my part in adding to his slowly growing fic collection. i love love love kenyu hes my boyfriend forever and ever <333 also reposted from my wattpad which u should so check out btdubs
Yukimiya isn't sure when, but eventually, tutoring you took up a huge portion of his life. First assigned for a homework task that you had not completed—his teacher made him tutor you on how to do it and exactly how to hand it in.
Then, his math teacher made him study with you, since you were falling so far behind. You and him spent hours studying together, but nothing ever worked. Either you got him too riled up to continue this session (which really, led into a session of something else), or you yourself were way too unfocused to even consider actually trying to learn from the boy in front of you.
Either way, you and he did not mesh well together, especially in a study-like area. In a library—you were far too loud. At home (either one of your houses)—he was practically asking you to feel him up, God forbid you two were left alone in the house, as well. Even at school, you kept finding yourself getting distracted by the multitude of people that pass by, and every little thing around you intrigued you more than your work ever did.
You never read your assigned novels, something which he couldn't understand. It was just reading, and yet, you acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do? Whatever the reason was (perhaps you could simply not read), Yukimiya needed to find a strategy that worked for you.
As your (self-proclaimed) tutor, was it not his job to make it so you don't flunk every single test? He thought so.
So, he went through various strategies with you. Studying in timeslots—it didn't work, because when you took a break, you decided that you didn't feel like going back to doing boring old work. Cramming everything in at the last minute—this worked a little better, but was still a giant failure. Sure, it had you actually studying, but you forgot everything as soon as you walked into the test room since your mind had no time to actually process it all.
Whatever it was—it was like your entire being refused to study like it would kill you (from how badly your grades are dropping, he isn't sure that's the only thing that will). A vivid procrastinator, that's what you are. Still, Yukimiya Kenyu is nothing but determined. When he's set on something —you best believe he'll go out there and get it like a champ.
That's why he was sure that this study method—tailor made to fit you—would absolutely, undoubtedly work.
You were surprised when Yukimiya asked you if you wished to spend this week's weekend study session at his house. (He isn't dumb, in fact, he's the complete opposite—and he knows exactly where you two "studying" at a private place like home leads).
So why did Yukimiya ask this? Has he perhaps turned over to the dark side? The thought of that—and perhaps, at what's to come—makes your stomach twist in excitement.
The day came without so much of a hitch. You spent the last few days of the week lazing as usual—your mind couldn't leave the thought of this weekend's "study" sesh with your favourite boy alone.
You wondered this, even as you took a train and made your way to his house—you've been there so often that his address was practically branded into your brain—and you thought about all the things he'd make you do.
Your face flushes.
As soon as you ring the doorbell—you stand outside waiting for less than a minute—you catch sight of Yukimiya Kenyu himself. Clad in a flowy, white dress shirt, and baggy grey sweatpants—he looked deliciously domestic, and it made your heart race in your chest. Especially when he spares you that smile—that godawful, lady-killer smile that could knock somebody dead—you think you may faint on the spot.
"You're just on time. My parents are going out to see my grandma, so it'll just be me and you alone for a few hours. Should be more than enough time for substantial studying, no?"
Alone? Few hours? Come on, Yukki, you know me better than that.
Now, you were starting to grow suspicious at his deliberate choice of wording and his all-too-well grin. Yukimiya Kenyu... what are you planning? Are you actually planning on getting any work done? No, not really. But that doesn't mean you can't be suspicious of this pretty boy in front of you. A studious, straight-A nerd would surely not fall into his tempting desires without at least a little bit of prodding—which is exactly why you're so wary of this whole setup.
You're led to the familiar sight of his room, somewhere you've been countless times before, same as always. You make yourself comfortable on his bed and watch as he pulls in a second chair to sit at his desk. He sits down at the one he just brought in, and motions for you to take a seat beside him on the chair he had originally had on his room.
His smile is so guileless, you can hardly get a good read on what he's feeling. It almost makes you nervous. Still, you obey, and take a seat, watching silently as he pulls out a few binders and unclipped a piece of paper. A mock test.
Wow, already? He was making you go through a practice test based on the subjects you're learning in math at the moment. Well, this wasn't too surprising. Yukimiya usually went through these with you anyway, so he could get a feel for how much you know about the subject already.
He snuffles his chair closer, eyes gleaming behind lens, "We should spend today going over these questions. If that doesn't take much time, we can just spend the rest of the day chilling out."
Yeah, we all know what you mean by "chilling out".
You nod, back slumped into the chair behind you and you groan, "Ugh... that sounds boring at hell... Can't we do something more fun, Yukki?"
With a cheeky grin and a knowing glance at the bed behind you—you think you make your intentions abundantly clear. You're certain he knows what you mean—this is always how you get what you want, after all.
By now, he'd be pink-cheeked, or perhaps even sloppily making out with you already, but not this time. He keeps the same blank, air-headed expression that he's plastered on his face since this whole tutoring thing started. "No, not this time. I've thought of a way to help you remember the fornulas, actually. I'm sure this strategy will work."
You raise a brow, clearly suspicious of his judgement. He said that same thing the past three times, and you ended up failing said three tests. "Really?"
He nods, smiling, "Really. Let's just start, and I'll try to incorporate it as naturally as possible."
Strange choice of words—but you like to trust your Yukki, so you don't question it. You and him quickly flip to the first page, and it starts with a question on area for a shape you do not recognise—with all sorts of numerals and numbers that it already makes your head spin.
"Do you understand how to solve for x?" He asks, and you think it's easier to straight up say no, rather than lie and look stupid, so you shake your head. "Alright. I'll try to explain it the best I can."
He starts talking, but it's hard to focus when his big hand is taut on your bare thigh, rubbing up and down mindlessly on the skin. You didn't realise he'd come so close to you—he's practically pressed up against your side.
Whatever. You try not to think too much of it. You focus on the sound of his words and sort of figure out how to solve what they're asking, "So, to find x, first you have to use the measurements already given, and then times that?"
He nods, "Yes, but that's not the end. You then still have to find y and z."
You groan, running a hand through your hair and sighing loudly—showing off your exhaustion five minutes into the session, "Ugh... this is taking forever... is this shit seriously on the test?"
Yukki leans up and presses a peck to your forehead. It feels oddly romantic, it makes you blush, "I know it's long, but you'll get it. Just focus, alright? I promise you'll understand if you do."
You really hope his mystery study method actually works.
Yukki continues trying to explain the concepts and formulas on how to solve the shape on the paper—and you're trying, you really are, but his fingers inch up, further and further and it makes it really damn hard to concentrate.
(Curse him, and the stupid effect he has on you.)
His hand stops moving for a moment, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. His words finally stop sounding like a jumbled mess and more like actual teaching, "I get it! You just..."
You proceed to re-explain the concepts he brought up, and worked out the question on the paper with ease. Yukimiya grins, perfect pearly whites behind his teeth and he's clearly proud, "Good girl. You're actually listening to me this time. Let's move on to the next question."
An algebraic expression—so many letters, numbers and symbols and you don't know what half of them mean. Yukki takes one good look at your face and understands exactly what's going through your head—absolutely nothing.
He begins to explain the equation to you once more—his hand inches up even further. It has practically disappeared under your skirt.
Is he doing this on purpose? You can't help but wonder, heat crawling up your neck and your stomach feels tense with anticipation. Usually, you'd think he would be—but he's not even looking at you, completely and utterly focused on the question.
Maybe he doesn't even realise.
The thought makes your skin crawl, but you push down these feelings (and try to ignore the soft touch of his fingers on your inner thighs), attempting at solving the question.
He shakes his head, brown curls falling over his pretty eyes. "No, that's not how you do it. I'll show you."
He leans forward and takes the pen from your hand—fingers brushing over yours—and wastes on time in solving the question while explaining its properties and what steps you need to take. Yukki is a good teacher. He's smart, he's thorough, and he makes sure you understand everything before you two move on.
But you really, really, can't focus because his fingers are now right atop your clothed cunt, stroking softly—it's driving you mad—and languidly, like it didn't do anything to you.
You hiss through your teeth when his index finger brushes over your clit, "Yukki..."
He looks so genuinely confused you almost believe he does not realise what he's doing, "Hm? What? Do you not understand?"
You furrow your brows in an angry motion, "No, are you kidding? You... You're—" The words die in your mouth as soon as you catch sight of the glowing, very much teasing, smirk on his lips.
Fuck. He does know what he's doing. Fucking prick.
You swallow thickly when his fingertips press a little harder, "Is this seriously the strategy you were talking about?"
He still acts oblivious, despite the way he's unabashedly glowing with joy, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the question. Do you understand it?"
You suck up your pride and take the pen from his grasp—solving the question easily. Yukimiya places his free hand on your head and pats it as a reward—his fingers stop moving so you have time to recuperate your thoughts—but this process soon repeats itself through the next three questions.
You can hardly think straight—but, a thought passes over your mind that maybe if you finish this up as soon as possible—he will finally stop teasing.
You find yourself working as quickly as possible—the sight is enough to please him. Perhaps this strategy really was working. Yukimiya thinks he's struck gold.
You look just like a regular diligent student—well, as diligent as a student can get with a hand shiver with their skirt. You're solving these questions with minimal difficulty and you're actually showing your working out. He hasn't felt this proud since he brought his pet turtle to show and tell in seventh grade (you teased him relentlessly for weeks after that, but he took like like a champ out of love for his pet).
... But still.
Perhaps a part of Yukimiya is rather selfish. A little voice that would never speak unless he found himself caught in a situation like this with you speaks up inside his brain—which makes his eyes glaze over with a sultry gleam and a small, almost harmless thought appear in his head.
What if...
With his sudden movement, you jolt in your chair and hands fly to his wrists, clutching it over the fabric of your skirt. "Y... Yukki—!!! W—What—"
His two middle fingers plunge deep into your cunt and immediately take up a relentless pace—your chest begins to heave as he consistently keeps pressing against that soft, squishy spot inside of you that makes your mind fog up.
There's no freaking way you can act like— The thought dies in your throat when the heel of his palm rubs against your clit and you bite back a small whine.
The small little clicking sound that is made each time he thrusts his fingers in and out is almost inaudible in your ears when he begins to speak, lips brushing against your ear, "Keep going, gorgeous. Don't let me stop you now. You're doing so good."
Your leg jitters against him when he smiles against your ear and he feels your cunt pulse.
Still, you pick up your shaky fingers and try to keep a steady grip of the pen—it's hard when all you want is to throw your head back on his shoulder and sit there all pretty for him—but you know better than to ignore Yukimiya Kenyu.
Despite his gleeful demeanor, he seems to take joy in asserting himself over you. You wondered if maybe he just had a sick kink.
Every time you came close to solving the question—he would press harder and harder, and every time you tried to lean back onto his shoulder, he would stop abruptly and ask you what you think you are doing.
You just could not win with Yukimiya Kenyu.
He's driving you crazy. Maybe this is how you make him feel on a daily basis—but you actually think you're going to go mental from this torture. Your handwriting had gotten noticeably messier and more shaky every time you tried to solve that question—even when you did, his pace was absolutely relentless. He did not let up.
"Yukki!" You whine out, cheeks all puffed like a cute little fish and you glare at him with so much anger he actually almost feels bad for a second. Almost.
He takes far too much enjoyment in something like this to feel any menial sense of guilt toward you. Besides, it's not like you didn't have this coming. Despite all this, he knows you will take whatever gives you graciously because you are absolutely enamored with him.
(He thinks that, with a small smile. It's okay for him to say that, right? It's not like it's not reciprocated.)
"Yes?" He responds, slowly, teasingly. He can feel your thigh start to shake as a sign of your impending orgasm, so he starts to slow his thrusts—the tantalizingly sluggish drag of his fingertips across your walls give you a little more than nothing.
You could scream in frustration. He grabs ahold of your thigh and tugs it over his left leg, so that you don't get a chance to close your thighs are his hand—it makes it all the more torturous.
Your words are breathy and heavy on your tongue, "Yukki... lemme... please let me—"
His thrusts speed up, and his thumb begins to rub hard circles on your clit. Your chest heaves with each breath and you start to moan sweetly into his ear. You throw your head back, onto his shoulder and grip onto your skirt—but this time he does not stop. In fact, he seems to go even faster.
You can practically envision the smug expression he must have on his face at this moment—his ego fed and arrogance through the roof. "What? You wanna cum?"
Mindlessly, and desperately, you nod. White-hot fire starts to churn in your lower belly and it spreads to the tips of your toes when he keeps rubbing harder. You're getting close, with your stomach twisting and heart beginning to beat in your ears.
"Y—Yeah... please..." Somehow, you manage right choke that out and whimper right into his ear.
Your thighs begin to shake. He does not stop. "You wanna feel good, gorgeous? Go ahead." He presses a soft, chaste kiss to your temple—an almost laughable contrast to how you're nearly brought to tears by your orgasm, lower half shaking and rutting up into his unrelenting touch with a sense of desperation.
He likes it when you're desperate. It makes you all the more cute.
He helps you ride out your pleasure, all with a pretty grin. Your babbling thanks and praises for his fingers soon die down when your post-orgasmic haze hits you, and you lean back into his touch with low breaths.
After a few minutes of him just holding you like this, hand placed lightly on your thigh—you look up at him, then down, then back up again. "You want me to help you out with that?"
He seems to be slightly taken aback by your bold offer—despite moments before, he sported a cocky smirk and sultry gaze—but manages to gather his composure quickly enough to answer.
He shakes his head and gazes at you kindly, "Oh, you don't have to. I still need to teach you some more formulas—"
Your brows furrow and your remove your leg from over his. "Yukki—don't be like that. Lemme take care of you, okay? Yeah..."
A smile falls upon your lips as his cheeks grow pink. Even when your duck down below his desk—it feels all so surreal. Even when you tug down his grey sweats that did not hide anything, it almost feels like a figment of his imagination.
It no longer does when he feels the fiery enclosure that is your lips wrap around the redden leaky tip of his cock. Yukimiya slaps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes taut shut. His heart is beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He feels like he cannot breathe, but the air gets knocked out his lungs all the same when your move your mouth down.
You use your hand to spread his pre around the base of him—jerking off what your mouth did not fit, until you go a little lower. He thinks his face may be on fire. The hand that does not cover the lower half of his face grips the edge of his table with full force.
He dares not to look down at you and dares not to catch the nasty, foxish gleam in your eyes.
You go down more, then back up. You press a chaste, loving kiss to the bulging tip, then, you go back down again. This time, a little further. You keep doing this until your jaw relaxes enough for your nose to press against the smooth skin of his abdomen—you allow your hands to wander his hard stomach.
"[name]..." His voice trails off shakily, a small moan escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. You choke a little, but keep going. His glasses are growing foggy from his hot, heavy breaths and he doesn't think he's ever felt any hotter.
The room temperature must have shot up by at least twenty degrees. He feels searing.
Yukimiya's heart nearly beats out of his chest when you pull back once more, staring directly into his half-lidded, cloudy amber irises, and gave a sloppy kiss to the cute little freckle that was on the pulsing head of his dick.
His breathing picks up and his chest heaves. Fuck.
He groans aloud as your mouth sinks back down and your throat presses around his cock. His hips jerk forward again, and he takes this reaction as his opportunity to start thrusting. You suddenly sit still with your jaw as open as it would allow you to be—as Yukimiya lazily thrusts into your mouth.
His hand entangled itself into your hair and he grabs a tight hold of your head as he moves you to his heart's content. The wet choking noises that you make when your lips are snugly wrapped around the base of his cock give him butterflies.
He looks down at you, sweat beading on the side of his face and low grunts escaping his lips, "Ffffuck.... So... mmmm..."
He can hardly firm actual words—his head lolls back and his eyes shut in pure bliss.
Searing hot electricity zaps through his veins—his abdomen contracts, and it's a telltale sign he's getting closer. You use your tongue as much as possible while his thrusts are getting wild and erratic —his groans soon turn into desperate puffs of air.
"[name]...! Gonna..." His hot and heavy pants ring in your ears and his low groans are such a noise you'd never expect to come out of such a perfect pretty boy's mouth. He pants hard. "[name]...!! [name]...!!"
It seems your name is the only word he can formulate at the moment, when his cock twitches in your mouth and spurts of white shoot out the tip right into your throat.
He grabs your hair hard and presses you as close to his abdomen as you can get—hips shaky as you squeal and your throat instinctively tightens—the whine he lets out is something that will forever be imprinted into your memory.
You nearly cough it all up when he finally pulls out of your lips—breathing growing steady and shoulders relaxed into a calm posture—but you force yourself to swallow, and you give him the cutest smile you can possibly muster when you do.
Yukimiya stares down at you with hazy honeyed eyes filled with unbridled lust—hidden only behind the fogged up lens of his rounded glasses. "[name]... You..."
He looks embarrassed when you stick out your tongue at him and it is perfectly clean. He places a big hand on your head—a stark difference compared to his previous way of gripping your hair—he strokes it softly under his touch. "Good girl..."
He chuckles.
Yukimiya Kenyu looks absolutely debauched—you don't think you've ever seena prettier sight. His shirt is disheveled and his cheeks are a searing hot red. He is absolutely gorgeous.
That why, when you crawl up from your kneeling position, and he cradles your aching red knees when you place yourself flat on his lap, you kiss him with all the love you can muster. You do not feel much love—but all of the adoration you do feel is directed solely at Yukimiya.
"So, how did I do, Mister Tutor?" A teasing, coy smile places itself on your lips when you pull away, hand sneakily running itself all over his hard torso.
The smile he beams at you is nothing less than radiant. "A+."
© KENYUMMY 2024
#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock manga#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk smut#yukimiya#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya smut#yukimiya kenyu smut#yukimiya x reader#yukimiya kenyu x reader#kenyu yukimiya#kenyu yukimiya x reader#kenyu yukimiya smut#© iliverae 2024 !#iliverae after hours <3
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STILL | spencer reid
summary ; loosing based off still by niall horan. You and spencer broke up and when you see him at a bar a month later everything comes back.
warnings; this is long pure angst with a (?) happy (?) hopeful ending. imma say female reader because there so many little things that indicate that. hella miscommunication, arguing, drinking, jealous spencer, i think its a happy ending idk tbh, let me know if i missed anything
a/n ; this is 4k words. i did not intend that at all, i honestly got so insanely carried away. im so sorry.
You regretted everything, in this moment more than any other. You didn't know how you were possibly stupid enough to be dragged into going out tonight. When your coworkers approached you with the idea of going out for drinks after work as a way to celebrate your promotion, you shouldn't of let yourself get sucked in. It took some convincing till you eventually gave in, but you did -- give in.
Going home to change may not have been the best idea, since it gave you enough time to realise what you were doing and how much you really didn't want to go but you knew your coworkers wouldn't accept your cancelation. So instead you made yourself look presentable, good even.
Things had been difficult to say the least over the last month, while things at work were great, mentally everything was horribly. It had been a month since you and Spencer broke up. A month since the last time the two of you talked.
He had called a few times, but you could never bring yourself to answer despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, some night you would spend hours unable to sleep, staring at his contact, although you never went through will calling him, too scared he wouldn't answer.
Once dressed you left, calling an uber because you knew it was a bad idea to even take your car -- the whole point was to drink, and you would need to drink. As much as you loved your coworkers, you could only handle so much social interaction without liquor in your system.
Arriving, you noticed the group of your coworkers waiting for you outside. You pushed a smile to your lips as you approached them. You had many coworkers of course, but you had your bunch who you worked with closely, the ones here with you now.
Elise was your work best friend, you and her worked side by side everyday. She was the one who convinced you to come out. Ethan was another one who you worked with closely, but weren't nearly as close with. Frank was older, he was almost like the father of your job, and then there was Chelsea who was literally franks daughter, she was nice, easy to get along with.
"Theres they are!!" Elise said excitedly, you appreciated the way they all dressed up. You were met with a bundle of flowers, being held out by Ethan. "We got you these, as a congrats present" He smile.
You're entire face warmed as your chest did too. You were lucky to be surrounded by a group of people who cared as much as they did. "Aw, Thank you guys." You smiled widely as you took the flowers, not knowing what you were going to do with them inside the bar -- but you figured you'd worry about that later.
You followed them inside the bar, instantly finding a table. Everything sunk into place, everyone talking and chatty after ordering drinks and a round of shots, -- it was great.
But there was something missing.
You tried not to think about it as you swirled your straw around your glass, filled with alcohol. "You look bored" You turned your head to face Elise. You pushed a soft chuckle pass your lips, shaking your head.
"Im not bored" You denied, because you weren't. You were just waiting and hoping that the pit of empitiness in your stomach would disapear so you could enjoy yourself. She frowned, "Come on, Lets go get shots" She said, offering her hand which you took gracefully.
As you walked over to the table where your coworkers were sitting at to find out if they also wanted another round of shots or not, Elise grew sidetracked, helping Chelsea out with the zipper of her dress that was breaking.
"Ill come with you" Ethan opted, making you smile gratefully as you thanked him. The two of you wandered through the bar, through the crowd of people before you finally reached the bar.
You and ethan made small talk as you waited for the bartender. When he finally came, Ethan ordered. A round of tequila shots. The bartender nodded, it was busy -- so he was doing everything fast. "I am not drinking tequila!!" You gasped as you looked at Ethan.
"Yeah you are" He smiled back.
The smile stayed on your face, "Tequila makes me sad" You said honestly. He pouted dramatically, although you can tell it was sarcastic. "Well we cant have that" He sighed just as dramatically, "I promise if you do get sad, we will make sure to cheer you up"
You smiled but couldn't help but doubt his words -- you knew what you'd get sad about, and you weren't sure anything he did would cheer you up from a sadness like that. The one you could feel in your whole body, every movement.
"Important night?" The bartender asked, as he poured the shots. You went to deny it, not wanting the attention but Ethan spoke before you could. "Yep" He said popping the P, "Pretty girl here got a promotion" He said, squeezing your shoulder softly.
You forced out a chuckle as the bartender congratulated you. Pretty girl was the nickname your coworkers had given you -- it was teasing at first and it started from Elise, but it kind of just stuck.
You got your shots and walked back through the bar holding the tray carefully, as you returned to the table you immediantly got a bad feeling in your stomach, something was off, something was wrong. You could see it in Elise's face as she looked at you.
"What?" You chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows as you placed the tray down on the table. She looked almost guilty, as she shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing" She said, reaching out for a shot.
Your concern and confusion only grew. "What?" You asked again, there was obviously something wrong. You noticed Chelsea looking in a certain direction, the same direction Elise's eyes kept drifting over to.
Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you turned your head to look in the direction they were, despite Elise' protests. You almost wish you listened. You felt your entire heart sink.
Your breath got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him -- Spencer Reid. He was already looking at you when you turned your head. You stomach dropped so far you swore you could feel in in your pinky toe.
You heard your name, but you could hardly pull your eyes away from him. He looked good. So good it made your head spin in a million different directions at once. Hearing your name again you finally pulled your eyes away from his, turning your head to face Elise who had concern lacing her features.
"Oh- Gosh- Are you okay?" She rushed.
You felt like your chest had been stepped on. You didn't say anything, instead reaching for the shot glass that remained, and downing it instantly. "I need to get drunk." You muttered.
"Whos that?" Ethan asked, he wasn't quite as caught up in your love life as Elise and Chelsea were. Chelsea scoffed. "Her ex, He is an ass" She said, Elise was quick to nod in agreement. Frank stood minding his own business, but you knew he was listening, he was always listening.
"He's not" You defened, because he wasn't. If there was an ass in the breakup, it was you. You weren't sure what sucked more.
Before Chelsea or Elise could say anything you spoke first, "Can we go get more drinks-- and move closer to the bar, I think ill be going there a lot" You muttered, grabbing the boquet of flowers you had been given.
Everyone was quick to agree, taking their stuff before finding an empty table closer to the bar.
You did exactly as you thought you would -- 4 drinks later, you were a lot mor tipsy but nothing seemed to take the pressure off your chest or cool the heat that Spencer eyes left on you everytime you looked over to see him already looking.
When everyone was engrossed in coversation you excused yourself to the bar, feeling the need for another drink or ten. When you literally asked for the most alcoholic drink possible, the bartender laughed but agreed.
"Congraulations" You swore your heart dropped at the voice. Your hands froze in place and you could feel the sweat building on the back of your neck. You turned your head, finally facing him.
Your eyes ran over his features -- his hair had grown out, it looked good. You wanted to tell him that but you couldn't. "H-How do you.." You wondered how he knew about your promotion, you were sure it hadn't been posted anywhere.
He rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards the table where your coworkers sat, you turned you head to look at them, noticing Ethan's and Elise's eyes on you and Spencer. "Your boyfriend isn't exactly quiet." He muttered, there was something spiteful about the way he spoke.
You whipped your head around to face Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realistion dawned on you -- He had heard Ethan tell the bartender about your promotion earlier. "He isn't my boyfriend--Why do you even care." You huffed.
Spencer scoffed quietly, "Yeah Im sure, The flowers and 'pretty girl' really prove that" His tone was laced with jealously. He was jealous. You shook your head as you pulled your eyes away from his face. "It's been a month" He muttered, quieter.
You frowned at the mention at how long it had been since the two of you broke up. "I am well aware of how long its been" You held back from calling him Spence, it was like muscle memory. "The flowers were from all of them" You defended, although there was no reason you needed to defend nor explain yourself to him. "And pretty girl- its a joke-- they all call me that." You muttered.
"I called you that."
His tone still held so much jealously but sounded so much sadder. It made your stomach clench on nothing but the alcohol you had consumed, you turned your head to face him before looking away again, unable to handle the way his expression pulled on your heartstrings.
"I know" You said just as quietly.
The bartender handed you your drink with an apology of how long it took -- you hadn't even noticed. Drink now in your hands yet you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You could smell Spencer's cologne and it was consuming your senses and making your mind fog.
Spencer ordered his own drink after the bartender asked, before he turned to look at you again. "I called." He said.
You wanted to cry-- you wanted to sink into the pit in your stomach and stay there forever. You felt yourself grow dizzy -- he made you dizzy. "I know" You said quietly, scared if you spoke any louder your voice would give out on you. it broke your heart to be standing here next to him, when he had no idea you loved him, when you had no idea if he ever loved you-- let alone if he still did.
He didn't say anything, you assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. He knew you were actively ignoring his calls-- What was there to say to that.
Spencer got handed his drink, he muttered a quiet thanks, but made no movement to leave his place next to you, you didn't either. Neither of you said anything. You felt as if your feet were glued in place -- although you weren't sure if you wanted to move either. It had been a month since you had seen him, and as much as it gutted you to think about, you didn't want to leave yet just incase this really was the last time.
"He isn't my boyfriend, he- he isn't anything more than a friend." You said again, although you didn't look at him, keeping your head down as you sipped your drink through your straw. You didn't need to push so hard for him to understand -- but the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you had moved on that quick, it almost offended you that he genuinely believed you did.
He opened his mouth to reply, but felt a hand on his back, cutting him off. He looked behind him to see Derek. "What's taking so long, Reid" He asked, a teasing smile on his face. You looked behind you at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes his smile fell slightly as he realised what was taking Spencer so long.
"Hi derek" You pushed a smile to his lips - of course Spencer was here with his team, you should've realised that. They probably just got back from a case, which explained Spencer's business attire, but he wore that more often then not anyways.
"Hey!! How are you doing!" He smiled back, opening his arms to hug you gently. It was friendly a simple. You were close with a lot of Spencer's friends and team, being his plus one to everything for months. Penelope had reached out after you and Spencer broke up, but just like with Spencer you couldn't bring yourself to reply.
"Im okay, how are you?" You asked. You could feel Spencer's eyes on your face and it left a burning sensation where his eyes laid as you pulled away from Derek's hug. "Im good! We've missed you around shortcake" It was a nickname, because of a strawberry shortcake shirt you had worn one time when out with Spencer.
You just smiled in response. You missed them too, a lot. They were your friends, and you hated how you lost that and Spencer all at once, but they were his friends first. "I'll leave you guys be." You muttered, forcing a smile to your lips as you avoided Spencer's gaze, pushing off the bar.
Spencer said your name and it made your head spin, it felt so natural falling from his lips, like it belonged there. If you had to pick only one person to say your name for the rest of your life, it would be Spencer.
You kept walking none the less, holding your drink in your hand as you approached the table. You put it down gently as Chelsea and Elise were instantly at your side, asking what happened or if you were okay.
"I think Im going to go home" You muttered as you felt the all familiar tingle in the bridge of your nose, matching the lump in your throat and burn in the back of your eyes. It was too much.
"Do you want me to drive you?" Frank asked, the fatherily instincts coming into play when he noticed the look on your face -- there was no convincing you to stay. You just shook your head, "Im okay, Thank you" You muttered, as you began grabbing your stuff.
"I'll walk you out" Ethan offered, but you were quick to shake your head. You didn't need to look to know Spencer's eyes were on you from across the bar, the last thing you wanted was to only deepen his concern by leaving with Ethan. "I really just want to be alone." You said, pushing a half hearted smile to your lips, he frowned but nodded.
You said your goodbyes before pushing through the people in the bar towards the door. Once outside, it dawned on you how hot you were, the cold air giving your flushed cheeks a cooling sensation. You dragged your hand over your face as you tried to process what had just happened without bursting into tears.
You opened the uber app on your phone, wanting to get home to wallow in every emotion you had been pushing down for the last month. You should've known tonight was going to end badly.
"Theres been over 3,900 cases of sexual assult or physical violence from ubers"
You turned your head to see Spencer standing at the door to the bar, not far from you but not close. The street wasn't busy, it was dark and only lit by the streetlights.
"Thats less than one percent" You muttered, pulling your gaze away from him. "Who said I was getting an uber?" You asked, despite the fact that you were, it baffled you how he seemed to know everything all the time.
"You're alone, I cant see your car anywhere and the app is open on your phone" He said as if it was nothing. He was a profiler for godsake, of course he picked up on the tiniest things.
You sighed, closing your phone you placed it in your bag, "So what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest - now that the heat had somewhat worn off the cold air was leaving goosebumps over your arms.
"So, let me drive you home." He said.
Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, shaking your head. "No. Its fine. I think I can handle less than one percent" You muttered, turning away from him again when the heat began rising to your cheeks again under his gaze.
You could hardly handle standing a foot away from him, you doubted you would be able to last a ten minute drive back to your house in the car next to him, you were sure the tension would suffocate you within seconds.
"Why do you do that" He asked taking a step closer to you. You were already resting with your back against the wall, there was no where for you to back away to even if you wanted to. You furrowed your eyebrows as you met his eyes, he looked sad.
"Do what?" You asked as your voice hitched, the pit in your stomach only deepening the more you looked at him, the closer he got the tighter your chest grew, the more he spoke the more your cheeks heated.
He sighed, "Push me away!" He raised his voice slightly, not in a way of anger but pure frustration. He was so frustrated.
"I don- We broke up Spencer" You reminded.
He rolled his eyes, "I know that. Trust me I know that." He muttered under his breath as he got closer to you. "You did it our entire relationship, pushed me away, held back, and then you broke up with me, why do you do that?" He said, brows furrowed as he genuinely tried to understand.
"You know why we broke up" You muttered quietly.
He threw his arms up in distress. "No- I really don't-" He said, before dragging his hand through his hair, only making it messy. You frowned, shaking your head as you reminded him. "We were both busy -- we hardly saw each other, our heads were in different places" your voice raised to the same level as his
"My head was with you!" He shook his head, "My head was always with you!" He sighed, he wasn't shouting, not really, but it was loud enough to match your level.
Your lips parted but you didn't have anything to say. Your head was spinning at the intensity of the coversation, at him -- so close, his cologne and after shave making your stomach feel sickly.
"I thought-" You ran your hand over your face as tears brimmed your eyes.
"You thought, you didn't ask me-- you just- broke up with me" He was shouting now. You genuinely thought your heart had fallen out of your chest. "You pushed me away, and then left like it meant nothing, like it all meant nothing." His voice was breaking with every word as his voice rasied
"It didn't- i didn't think it meant nothing" You were shouting too, and tears ran down your face -- you were unable to help it, each drop hotter and heavier than the last.
"Just be honest, I just- I just need you to be honest, please" He was on the verge of tears himself, and you hated it. You hated the way his voice was breaking, the way his hand was grabbing his shirt, pressing against his chest as if this conversation was bringing him physical pain-- like it was to you.
"You want me to be honest?" You asked, you were now the one stepping closer to him, you were the one shouting -- not out of anger, but you couldn't better express the way this conversation was all consuming every part of your body, your mind, your stomach, your chest.
"I love you Spencer" Your voice cracked as the words came out, "I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts when you are gone, when I was spending everyday worrying you weren't going to come home, I love you so much that I thought me worrying about you was unfair because you love what you do, and I was constantly in the way of that. I love you so much that i thought if i broke up with you, you'd be happier -- I thought the how much I loved you would stop hurting." you were practiclly sobbing, you would have been embarassed if you mind was able to focus on anything other than the boy in front of you.
"It didn't, its actually gotten worse because everyday I wake up and your not there, and I still worry about you just as much -- more, i worry about you more. Everyday I wake up and im completely heartbroken. God everyday I wake up and Im still inlove with you, " You continued on your tangent, "I love you so much Spencer"
You didn't even have time to breath before you felt cold hands on either side of your face and the feeling of his lips on yours, you could taste the alcohol on his lips. It was familiar and safe and warm. Your hands found their way to his face, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss was messy and passionate and everything you had missed so much, it was the sort of kiss that made every thought in your brain disapear, it made your knees feel weak and your toes curl in your way to uncomfortable shoes.
You tried to pull away but his lips chased yours, bring you back into him and you didn't make any movement, only kissing him back until you ran out of air, feeling lightheaded. You stepped out of his grasp as you tried to regain balance.
"Ill teach, its not an issue i've wanted to teach, god ill stop working all together if it means you'll come back" He said out of breath, eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth but he cut you off. "I love you, I've loved you since the day that I met you." he was huffing out words as he stepped back closer to you, invading your space and you couldn't complain.
"I don't- I don't want you to have to do that, you love working." you said breathlessly, shaking your head. You didn't want your relationship to mean him stop doing what he loved.
"I want you" He said, voice cracking. "I love my job but I love you." He said it like he couldn't get enough of finally saying it. "I'll work it out so you can come everytime we have a case, please I love you" He was begging.
"What does this mean Spence" You said, heart beating out of your chest. He just shook his head. "Who cares! I love you, You love me. I will do anything, just.. stay - let me stay." He said, grabbing your hand.
"I love you" You repeated.
"I love you" He said back.
"Where do we go from here?" You ask, looking up at him with squinted eyes, you were sure your makeup was a mess, and you looked horrible but there was so much love and hope in Spencer's eyes you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
"Let me drive you home." He said. You knew that meant it was the beggining. You knew he meant that he didn't know but he wanted to try. He was begging and there was no way you were going to let him go again.
"Okay."
#criminal minds#criminal minds show#criminal minds x reader#criminalmindsfans#spencer criminal minds#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds one shot#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid one shot#bau team#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid comfort
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im sorry - chris sturniolo x femreader
summary : in which you and chris get into your worst argument yet, to the point you think its all over.
warnings : angst, arguing, fluff.
"do you think you should maybe, slow down?" your friend whispers from the side of you as you finish yet another vodka soda. you wipe at your lip as a small bit of the liquid missed your mouth and turn to her, hitting the glass on the table a little harder than intend.
"my relationship is as good as finished. no. i need another." you say. a sentence that just a few weeks ago would have had you sobbing, but now just made you angry.
you had promised yourself that you would never let any man treat you like you were worthless. you'd never simp for a man so hard that you'd be crying in your bed alone. and yet chris sturniolo had ticked every box.
he was your sweetheart. the first person to show you what true love was. but your too different personalities had finally hit heads. you arguments over the last month where harsh. unforgiving, almost. and yet you still stayed. both of you did.
but tonight had been different. you hadn't spoken in two days, despite living in the same house. he preoccupied himself with work, which was understandable, and you preoccupied yourself with everything but his presence. but when his brother and your best friend nick asked you both over dinner to talk to each other, you world had shattered.
"can you both please just talk this out? i dont know the extent of your argument but this is becoming unbearable."
you had looked at nick with a sorry expression on your face. you did feel bad, the triplets had been more than nice enough to allow you to move in and you hated the hostile feeling you were both bringing to the house, but when you looked back at chris, his eyes on his plate, and he shrugged, you felt your heart in your throat.
when he uttered the words. "i don't think theres anything left to say anymore", your world broke.
you stood up from your chair immediately, a silence around the table that was unbearable, and you kept your eyes trained on your boyfriend. but he didn't look up. you nodded, before you looked at both nick and matt, there eyes on you in a sympathetic glare, and you gave them a smile before you removed yourself, running down the stairs and out into the fresh air. you couldn't even summon tears.
so you headed to the bar. you rang your friend, who was there in a flash, but you were five drinks down by that point and you had no plans to stop.
"you're being ridiculous" your friend said now, holding your wrist and dragging you down as you went to stand up, you stumbled back into your chair and she gave you an eye. "you both need time to cool off."
you scoffed. "cool off?” you say again, looking back towards the bar.
"where is nick? or matt?" your friend says now and you shrug.
"have they not text?" she asks.
"nick followed me out" you say, remembering back to just an hour ago.
the anger that surged through you when hit the fresh air and out into the driveway was unbearable. this had been going on for too long, you yourself could admit that. argument after argument after argument. but for chris to not even look at you, and utter words so heartbreaking in the presences of his brothers without speaking to you privately? you felt embarrassed. angry.
“y/n” you heard nick shout when you were only half way down the driveway, and you turned to him immediately. you were angry but you weren’t going to take it out on him. he was your best friend. he had seen the hurt in your eyes even though you had tried to push it down over the last two days of silence between you and chris.
“please, come back in” he had said, and you give him a sympathetic smile.
“i need to walk this off, nick” you say, and he sighed when he finally reached you. you held out your arms immediately and he was bringing you in for an embrace within seconds.
“do you want me to come with you?” he had said, and you smiled.
“be there for chris”
“what he just said to you in there was uncalled for. matts with him, i want to be here for you”
you smiled. “he’s your brother. and i think he just broke up with me. he can act the tough guy all he wants, i know he’ll want you” you said.
he didn’t tell you but nick was in awe of you. he could see your anger and your upset, could see the way you didn’t know if to scream or cry, and yet your resilience in that moment he thought was admirable. you were completely unaware of the conversations that were happening in the house after that moment whilst you were now sat with your friend, but for the time being you didn’t care.
your friend let out a sigh as you finally scrambled out of her grip, declining your offer of a drink you were going to buy her as you walk across to the bar. it was busy, and you were already swaying from left to right as you used the bar to steady yourself.
“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”
your head whipped up at the sound of the voice. a man you did not recognise leant against the bar at the side of you, his eyes looking you up and down. you knew instantly there was nothing sleazy or untoward about him. his aura gave off nothing but positivity, so you cracked a smile.
“oh, you know. just letting my hair down”
he laughed. “no boyfriend? or girlfriend? sorry, i don’t want to assume”
you smiled. “boyfriend.” you confirm. “no, hes -“
and there it is. the hurt hits you. you look up at the man who's smiling at you, already stepped back an inch after you had told him you had a boyfriend, and the argument springs up again.
"hes not here." you utter, before a laugh escapes you. where was he? you grab your phone from your pocket, no messages having coming through. you think back to the way it was nick that chased you out the door, and not him. and suddenly you feel sick. you look at the man stood in front of him and you utter a sorry before you turn on your heel, heading towards the your friend who's sat watching you from the table you were just at.
"i need to go" you say, and she looks at you for a second before standing up.
"i'll take you" she says. you nod, unable to even thank her with the surge of emotions that run through your body. you had jumped into an uber on the way here and your friend had driven, clearly knowing she wasn't going to end up drinking with you. really, she knew you wouldn't last long before you wanted to head home, so to her this was planning out exactly as she imagined.
you reach the outside of the bar, just a small one not even 10 minutes from the triplets house and the fading sunset hits you, you can feel the lump in your throat. your friend grabs hold of your arm as she pulls you down towards the street and to her car, but when you're half way there she finally speaks to you, noticing that your energy has shifted ever so slightly since being outside and the LA sunshine hitting your skin.
"are you okay?" she asks, and you look away from the skyline to her. and you laugh.
"no. no im not."
she gives you a sympathetic smile. "you're angry, i can tell. but i feel theres more too it. please dont give up on each other."
you nod as you reach her car, climbing into the passenger seat as she unlocks it and gets into the driver side after ensuring you're settled. she gives you another smile before she pulls off into the street, and you try your best to calm down. there were so many things you wanted to say to him. you wanted to scream at him. you wanted to cry at him. you wanted to ask him where it had all gone wrong.
youre so submerged in your own thoughts that you don't even realised when you pull up outside. you jerk your head up and let out a loud sigh, before looking to your friend.
"do you need a minute?" she says. "you look like you're going to cry. dont let him see you cry."
you smile as you reach over and give her a hug. "im okay. i'll be okay. thank you, so much."
you get out of the car and shut the door, double checking your pockets for your belongings. you could tell you were drunk, it had been an hour since you stepped off the driveway and ordered an uber to the bar and you'd drank way too quick, so you gather yourself as your friend drives off. taking a deep breath, looking up at the sky as the darkness finally sets in.
when you feel okay enough, you let out a large breath before turning on your heel, making your way up the drive way. you dont know what you were going to say. you were angry. you were hurt. and you feared when you did see him, you'd finally break down.
reaching the door to the house you unlock it slowly and quietly, needing a few more minutes before you saw anyone, but when you heard the three of them upstairs, you let out a breath. you're not sure what they're talking about, but you can make out the mumble of chris' voice and you turn on your heel, heading towards your shared bedroom, quietly opening and closing the door behind you.
when the door clinks shut, you lean against it, letting out a sigh of relief. but it hurts. you're drunk. you're feeling everything at once and the tears flow. pulling your hand over your mouth to muffle any noise, you make your way to the bathroom.
but he's heard you. the door opens, and his voice fills the room.
"baby" he says. and you snap.
spinning on your heel, you move your hand from your mouth. you know you look a mess. fresh tears on your cheeks. hair in a messy bun. you feel embarrassed that you'd even gone to the bar looking the way you did but in the moment it felt right.
chris' eyes widen when he sees you.
"fuck. baby -"
"baby!?" you spit. "baby?!"
and you see his adams apple move as he takes a gulp.
"please don't-"
"don't what?!" you spit. you take a deep gulp as you compose yourself, wiping under your eyes to take away the tears. you didn't want to argue. you didn't want to cry. but there was something inside you that was raging. "don't what, chris?"
"listen to me, please" he says, and walks over to your, grabbing at your wrists, but you pull them away immediately and head towards the bathroom. he's close behind you. "im so sorry, baby. im so so sorry"
you spin around immediately, and he accidentally walks into your chest. you take a slight step back at the side time as him, and your breath is harsh. "sorry? for what, chris? for talking to me like a piece of shit in front of your brothers? for ignoring for me the last two days? can you even remember what we were arguing about?"
"no but-"
"but what?!" you say, and the tears are falling again. "but what, chris? do you want to break up? do you want this to end? because thats what it sounds like to me and i'd prefer for you to tell me privately that in front of your brothers, because-"
"stop it, y/n. stop it!" he says, and he grabs at your hands again, but you pull them away, stepping beside him to reenter his bedroom. but you come to a stop. because you don't know where to go. you need to have this conversation. you know you do. but you're drunk, you're hungry, you're all of a sudden irritated and overstimulated.
so you cry. again. and you spin around to look at him as he to reenters his bedroom. he's crying to.
"please, listen to me" he chokes.
"i dont-"
"baby, stop it." he says, and he rushes right over to your side, taking your hands in his. you pull them away again, but this time he doesn't accept it.
"fuck, you're killing me." he says, and this time he grabs your wrists, pulling them up and stepping forward, trapping your arms in his hands in-between the both of yours chest.
"get off me" you say, but you don't mean it. you're angry but the first bit of physical touch from him in 2 days feels electrifying.
"no." he says, and you sniffle a cry before looking into his eyes. they too, rimmed with tears. this close you realise that they're too raw, and his lips are too swollen to have only just started crying.
"have you been crying?" you whisper, and he laughs. only slightly, but its a laugh, a smile appears on your face to.
"i love you." he starts. "I know that much is true. i dont know what the fuck has happened to us but i fucking love you. so much it hurts sometimes actually. i think thats why I coward away when we do fight. i cant handle it, y/n. i cant handle when you look at me when you're hurt or upset, it's easier to walk away and let us both cool off. and i know thats wrong, fuck nick and matt have just had my life about it, and im sorry."
you look at him. searching his face. his hair. feeling his hands and body on yours.
"why do we even fight, chris?" you ask now.
"i dont know, baby."
"am i too much? was moving in with you too much?"
he shakes his head immediately. "no, god no please dont think that."
you sigh, and he finally removes his hands from your arms. you take a step back, sitting on his bed, and he comes to join you.
"im so sorry for what i said earlier. i was being stubborn." he says, and you laugh slightly.
"we both were, chris. two days of ignoring each other."
he laughs too, and he places his hand on your thigh. you don't flinch away, but you don't reach for it either.
"do you want to be with me, chris? tell me the truth. because i can't keep being hurt like this. im not blaming you, either. its me, too."
he turns slightly to look at you, and you can see the genuine panic in his eyes. "if you were to break up with me, i dont know how i would survive. i mean it. i dont know why i said what i said earlier. embarrassed maybe, that nick had mentioned it. embarrassed i had let it carry on for two days. i dont know. but i know im sorry. not just for that but for all the times we argue."
the tears have brimmed in your eyes again and you let out a small smile, finally bringing your hand to his.
"I think we are both incredibly stubborn." you start. "and easily hot headed. and you're a social butterfly when i sometimes like to chill."
"i know" chris admits.
"but i love you, so much. i shouldn't have ran out earlier." you admit, and chris shakes his head.
"no. i shouldn't have let nick run after you. it should have been me." he says.
"its okay." you say now.
"do you forgive me?" chris asks, and just his face alone, his beautiful yet saddened face, makes you want to cry.
"yes. and you me?"
he laughs. "yes."
you chuckle, and then you finally lean in, his lips on yours. arguments were normal, you had to remind yourself that. but deep down, you loved this man to death, and he you.
when you finally pull away from your kiss, your first kiss in days, chris grabs your face in his hands. "im going to marry you, one day."
you heart jumps. "that so?"
he nods. "i already told nick and matt."
"when?"
he smiles. "when nick came back and gave me an ear full after speaking to you outside. he told me what you said. the way you were angry but you knew i would want him to be there. and it just blurted out."
you smile, a sense of relief washing over you.
"because i love you, dumbass. even if you do get on my last nerve sometime."
he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours.
"you stink of vodka" he mumbles in your lips, and you smile.
"im celebrating."
he pulls away, giving you another eye. "celebrating what?"
you chuckle. "my man wants to marry me one day." and you crash your lips against his once more.
#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo
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i dont know if you do driver x driver x reader, if you do then maybe oscar x logan x reader? if you dont then just logan x reader is good. i dont really have a good idea for smut but if youre up for it there could be some oral sex, choking, possessiveness, and degradation? ima gonna be honest its been a hot minute since ive read your smut so id theres something in my request youre not comfortable with, my apologies!
Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri
cw... anal, double penetration, not edited, cumshot, kissing with cum, hair pulling, slight dom, slight hinting to the two of them being into each other, gagging, blow job, oral, jealousy, timeskip, plot and porn, etc...
notepad... HIYA! Second post of the day. Honestly speaking I enjoyed this. But i probably could have spent more time on it. Either way I had fun.
There were only a few things Logan Sargeant had that Oscar Piastri didn’t. He hated to admit it, but it was true that Oscar was the better rookie and the better driver. He had things that Logan didn't, but he had one thing—the only thing Oscar couldn’t have and wanted more than anything. He had you. You were his trophy, the girl the two of them fought for in the Perma days. There was no hate between the two of them, still being the closest of friends, but Oscar could never help but be filled with jealousy each time he saw you with Logan. He was the better match for you, yet you chose Logan.
It was the Miami Grand Prix; you were there supporting Logan after a disappointing week. Oscar certainly had a bad week, but compared to Logan, it was a hundred times better. He couldn’t help looking at you talking to Logan, walking hand in hand. He wanted what Logan had; it was selfish; you were happy; his friend was happy; he knew it was wrong.
“Hey Oscar!” He heard Logan's voice call him out, it stunned him. He looked up, seeing him walk up with you. You waved to him, clearly unaware of his feelings.
“Oscar, you look great; how long has it been?” You asked, letting go of Logan's hand, hugging the tall man. Leaving him confused for a moment, he slowly raised his arms to hug you back. It had been sometimes since he felt your touch that all the feelings he felt became stronger than ever.
“Likewise, are you two still together?” He asked if it was true that you were never in the media and were also never posted about. You nodded. Logan grabbed her hand and pulled her away.
“Stronger than ever. Oscar, do you want to join us for dinner at my place? Like before, this time at my own home.” Logan asked him rather quickly. Oscar was unsure of how to respond. After spending an entire night with you and Logann being in love, It sounded like hell, yet he missed you, the sound of your laughs, or the way you talked. It was a tough decision; it felt like hours passed while the two waited for his answer.
“Like old times.”
“Ah~” You mumbled your head back, your legs being pushed while Logan’s mouth sucked at your clit. How did Oscar get here? Watching his friend eat out the girl he wanted. He could have left, but he stayed. Your moans sound so sweet, like honey to him. He watched Logan suck your clit almost as if he were making out with your pussy. You were clearly close to orgasming, your words becoming less coherent. He heard the low voice of Logan.
“You’re our guest, Oscar; I know you want to.” Logan stood up, looking at him with your juices on his lips. Logan knew him too well. Oscar walked over to you and him. Logan sighed, seeing your panting face cumming just by his mouth. “You are my friend, but do know I am possessive of her. Don’t leave a mark on her Oscar, or I might not be able to forgive you for it.”
Oscar nodded; it seemed like all that Logan told him went through one ear and out the other. Logan sighed, climbing on the bed right behind you, hauling your panting body up. He used his chest to support your back, putting you right at the edge of the bed for Oscar. His other hands spread your legs wide.
“You want me to?” Logan rolled his eyes, taking one hand away from you and tossing a condom for Oscar to catch. He hated it because he was acting so inexperienced in front of you. He held the condom, opening it while pulling his cock out and putting the protection on properly.
“Pick a hole, ass or pussy?”
“I know you, Logan; you pick.” Logan smiled upon hearing Oscar say such a thing. He was caressing your cheek, flipping you over, and having you on all four.
“I say surprise her. You dreamed of this, so do what you want for once.” Oscar knew Logan's kind heart was nothing but excited to have control over him. Logan pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times. "Besides, I have her mouth.” He shoved his cock into your mouth suddenly. Oscar began to hear the lewd sounds of your muffled gags. He groaned while doing it. He shoved his cock up your ass. It was so tight, and you were so unprepared. “You picked her ass. I’ve been training her, so she’ll be fine.”
Logan gently placed his hands on your head, playing with your hair; cooing at you. Oscar could tell he truly cared for you. No matter what, even face-fucking you, he had a hint of gentleness. Oscar held onto your hips, bouncing you back and forth on his cock. Causing moans to be heard that were muffled by Logan's cock in your mouth. Logan thrust deep into your mouth, gagging echo into the large room.
“Can I grab her hair?” Logan smirked, nodding to him. Oscar's hand went to your hair, pulling it back, causing a small pop when your lips left Logan's cock. Logan used the opportunity of shock from you to shove his cock once more into your beautiful mouth. Logan and Oscar found themselves moaning, both enjoying the view of you being used. Clearly, they both enjoyed it; their relationship has been a bit rocky since Logan got with you, and this was a good way to get them to fix it.
You, on the other hand, didn’t mind it; you were being fucked in two holes and forced into a moaning mess. You loved it even when your hands got weak. They began to shake, feeling like you were about to orgasm. You knew Logan was close, his cock twitching in your mouth and his thrust being deeper than normal, making you gag even louder than before. You weren’t sure how Oscar orgasmed and were unsure if he was close or not, yet the sounds of his whimpering from how good your ass felt told you all you needed.
The abuse of your ass and mouth continued until Logan thrust so deep it made you gag that you had to pull away while he came. Oscar grabbed your hair tightly, your mouth open, and Logan once more shoved his cock in your mouth, making you milk him dry. You were gasping for air, trying to moan, cum flowing out of your lips, unable to hold yourself up. Oscar fucked you faster; you knew he was enjoying it, but it became overwhelming for him.
That was until he pulled you back by your hair so tight that he sat you up and came into your ass deep, filling his condom up. Leaving you moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock getting soft slowly. You were still covered in cum. Logan leaned down to you, kissing you deeply, not caring about the cum clearly on your lips. Oscar is still deep inside you; his cock is so deep that it feels better than any woman he has been with.
“We can do this again, Oscar.” Logan and Oscar were both naked, watching your sleeping body. You went right to sleep after they helped clean you up.
“I missed you too, Logan.” They turned to each other and shook hands, firmly embracing each other in a quick hug.
#fanfic#x reader#oneshot#formula one x reader#f1 smut#fanfcition#formula one smut#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#logan sargeant smut#logan sargent x reader#mclaren f1#mclaren x reader#williams racing#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 smut#oscar x Logan#Logan sargeant x Oscar Piastri
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you and me, forevermore
osamu d. x reader
after hosting for new years, dazai stays after midnight to help you clean up the bottles. happy new years 🤍
inspired by new years day
your hangover was palpable.
your eyes fluttered open on your couch, beer cans on the floor and streamers tossed all over the walls. your clothes were turned over your body, lazily sticking to the sweat on your skin. your hair turned up, mascara smudged as your body screamed at you for partying so hard.
if theres one person who, despite the candle wax sticking to your floor, polaroids strewn around and smudged lipstick, still finds you gorgeous, it’s dazai.
he’s no sleeping beauty, either. he's in the same state as you, if not worse. his white shirt unbuttoned as he sits of the floor next to you, holding your hand. the kiss stains in the shade of your lips are all over him and, evident by his relaxed grin and bedroom eyes, he loves it. lazy brown eyes take in your hungover state, pressing a good morning kiss to your knuckles.
“happy new years, my love.”
ah yes, january 1st.
“i thought you went home last night?” you groan, sitting up, muscles aching. you wouldn’t think twice about seeing yosano for it, but shes a) just as hungover as you are, and b) would have to dismember you to cure your pains. you’d be better off with tylenol.
or, as a 3rd alternative, melting in the arms of your boyfriend. he seems to sense that, as he moves up to sit next to you and takes you in his embrace, skilled fingers and lean yet muscular arms melting away at the aches.
“we have to clean this up.”
“it can wait. the year just started, after all.”
you almost grin, not being able to deny that. just a few hours ago, everyone you knew had been stuffed into this living room, drunk on new years cheer and dom perignon. everyone was opening up their resolutions, preparing to be new, or at least better.
the past pays no mind when you you get excited for the future. it was 12 new chapters, with 365 new chances. what a wonderful holiday occasion, where you were left to clean bottles and sticky floors.
“i’ll help you, don’t worry.” he hums. normally, you could barely get dazai to clean anything, but something about having you in his arms makes him want to be different.
“how romantic.” you mutter, pressing a kiss to his cheek before getting up.
one, maybe two trash bags will do. you grab everything left on the floor- beer cans, cups, leftover dreams and left behind promises. dazai grabs everything you can’t reach, undoing the streamers and the loves that got away.
what a pleasure it is to be able to clean with someone you love. he thinks, looking back at you.
“you’re my favourite part of this year.” he blurts out, like its something he just needed you to know as you back away bottles.
you actually laugh. “this year just started, ‘samu.” but when you look back, he’s dead serious.
your heart flutters, knowing what he means. he already knows you’ll be there, that you won’t read the last page.
“…shut up.” you blush, quick to hide the effect he has on you. “…you’re my favourite part too.”
“well, now you’re just stealing my lines.” he teases, lips curving into genuine smile. he steals one last glance before continuing his cleaning.
he hears you laugh in shock and amusement, seeing how the mess has spread from the living room to the rest of the apartment. he nods and agrees as you bitch about the mess, about your hangover, and how you’ll supposedly be cleaning this for the rest the year.
he hopes you’ll never become a stranger, a stranger whose voice he’d recognize anywhere. he hopes its forever, for each new year to come.
“samu? are you listening?”
“hm? yeah.”
“what’d i say?” you cross your arms.
“…i love you?” he smiles, cheekily.
how can you be mad at that?
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