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traveler-at-heart · 3 months ago

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Good Luck Babe

Summary: Wanda's boyfriend is the biggest asshole you've ever met. You think she'll choose you in the end.

Wanda Romanoff x F!R, eventual Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Don't be fooled by the summary, this is a Natasha Romanoff x R fic

Classes can be a drag. Especially the early mornings, where not even a cup of coffee can make you focus.

And then, there’s Wanda Maximoff, looking at the professor as she speaks, diligently taking notes while looking perfect, as usual.

She catches you staring and you have to look away, pretending that you weren’t just wondering how she manages to look effortlessly beautiful.

Class is dismissed and you take a minute to pack your things, preparing for the next session. You try not to roll your eyes as you find Wanda with her idiot boyfriend right at the door. As usual, they take up too much space, and you have to push one of them aside.

“Coming through, princess”

You don’t have to look back to know Wanda glares at you, annoyed at the nickname.

To be fair, the first time you used it you thought you were both involved in playful banter. Hell, you even meant it to be flirty, but she took great offense in it, which was the case with most things you did, whether they were aimed at her or not.

It was pretty clear she hated your guts. You just didn’t know why.

——

“I don’t know what her problem is” Wanda says, the music loudly booming across the house.

“What?” Jarvis says, leaning forward because he didn’t hear a word Wanda said. Partly due to the loud music and also because he’s looking at other girls, albeit discreetly.

“Y/N. She’s always being a total ass” the girl says, watching as you enter the house, avoiding her stare.

“She’s just jealous because you’re so pretty” he says and that’s enough to distract Wanda.

Across the room, you curse under your breath at the sight of the Maximoff girl. God, you hate her stupid boyfriend. Always runnig his mouth to his friends about Wanda, telling them private things… you’d overheard them at a bar once and it took every ounce of your being not to kill him right then and there.

Not to mention, the rumoured affairs that everyone knew about. Everyone, but Wanda, that is.

“You made it!” Carol greets you, and then follows your gaze. “Ugh, that guy’s the worst”

“Agree” you nod, turning to look at her. “Shots?”

“Hell, yeah” your friend says, taking you to the kitchen where Val is pouring some alcohol.

To your relief, you get to avoid Wanda for the entirety of the night, and as your friends arrive you quickly forget what had soured your mood in the first place.

Wanda, on the other hand, is not having such a great time. At some point while she was chatting with Pepper, she lost sight of Jarvis and can’t seem to find him anywhere. Knowing Stark could get crazy ideas, she worries that they might be doing something reckless so she goes around the house, looking for her boyfriend.

She’s expecting everything but seeing him with his pants around his ankles while a girl Wanda doesn’t even know gives him head.

“Wanda!” Jarvis shouts, startled.

“That’s not my name” the girl says, smiling playfully. “Or are we role playing?”

“I need to get out of here” Wanda says, closing the door.

Of course, he chases her down the hall, desperately sayig any excuse he can think of. Wanda tries to walk past him, but he blocks her from going downstairs.

“Don’t be so uptight about it” he loses his patience when Wanda refuses his apology. “Guys just need to do it more than girls, it meant nothing”

“You’re an ass” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Wanda, don’t leave” he warns, as she finally walks around him to go to the first floor. The shouting makes some people turn around, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the commotion.

You’re standing next to Val and Darcy, unable to look away as the oh so happy couple keeps shouting at each other.

“Guess he got caught red handed this time” Darcy mutters. She and Wanda were friends but had a fallout and you suspected it had to do with Jarvis and his side pieces.

“Let go of me” Wanda insists when he takes her arm, pulling her close to him.

“People are staring, shut your fucking mouth”

“You’re hurting me” she protests, trying to losen his grip.

Maybe it’s the way she says it, so defeated or even scared, but those words make you snap, and you walk up to them, pushing Jarvis away.

“Stay out of it” he warns.

“Make me”

You are expecting the first punch so you dodge it in time, but he manages to land another one on your mouth, and you feel the taste of blood.

“You’re gonna regret this” you say, launching yourself forward until you knock him over, landing on a coffee table that breaks. Grabbing him by the shirt, you land two punches and go for a third one when he kicks you, making you gasp for air.

“That’s enough” Thor steps in, his brother looking delighted at the chaos. “You better leave”

Jarvis glares at him, but truth be told, Thor doesn’t like him and he is your friend. He leaves the Odinson house, cursing under his breath.

“I’m fine” you tell your friends as they bring over ice to put on your cheek.

“Want us to take you home?” Carol offers.

“It’s good” you say, shaking your head. “I should go, take some painkillers”

“Call us if you need anything”

“Ok” you pat Darcy’s back, leaving the house where everyone’s partying like nothing even happened.

As you walk to your car, you spot Wanda, sitting on the sidewalk, wiping away the tears that roll down her cheeks.

“You ok?” you ask, standing next to her.

“He’s an idiot. No, I’m the idiot for being with him” she rambles.

There’s a very sarcastic comment at the tip of yout tongue but you save it.

“Did he drove you here?” Wanda nods and you jiggle the car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm”

“I don’t want to be alone” Wanda hugs her knees, and in spite of everything, your heart aches for her.

“Any friends that can take you in for the night?” she shakes her head no and you sigh. “Wanna stay at my place?”

“Are you sure it’s ok?”

“Yeah, come on” you say, walking to the car. You drive in silence, eager to get home and put some more ice on the punch.

Wanda gets out of the car and follows you to the dorm you share with Carol, who usually stays with Val most nights.

“Take the bed” you say, handing over some clean clothes so she can change.

Wanda looks at you, and you feel uncomfortable at the intensity of her gaze.

“I… thank you, Y/N”

“Sleep tight, princess” you say with a smile and for the first time she doesn’t look upset as you call her that.

——

The smell of bacon and butter wakes you up and you stretch, trying to remember why you’re in the couch.

When you see Wanda in your kitchen, everyhing that happened comes back and you groan, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

“Ouch” you say when you rub close to the punch on your cheek.

“You’re up” Wanda says, smiling. It’s a strange sight, as she’s used to glaring at you or just ignoring your presence.

“You sleep ok?” you say, trying to hide your blush when you notice she’s still wearing the clothes you let her borrow.

“Yeah, thanks” she nods, pulling up two plates with pancakes. “I wanted to thank you for everythig you did last night”

“No need” you say, grabbing a fork and eating. Wanda’s just being nice and you honestly don’t want to force her to interact with you, so all you want is to finish your food and give her an out so she can leave.

“He’s been texting me” Wanda says, looking at her food but not eating anything. “Saying it was a mistake, a one time thing and that it would never happen again”

“And you believe him?” you try to control your tone.

“I’d heard the rumors… even from Darcy. You probably know already”

“We assumed that’s why you fought, but she told us it was none of our business. And I know this isn’t none of mine, but you deserve better”

Wanda giggles at that and you look at her, intrigued.

“I’m just… I thought you didn’t like me”

“Where’d you get that?”

“The nickname, your constant glares across the room…”

Oh, shit. Here you were thinking you were obvious about your crush, and Wanda thinks you hate her.

“I hate… Jarvis. I knew he was a dick so I always disliked him. Seeing him with you. Yeah”

“Do you like me?” Wanda asks and you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders.

The girl smiles, finishing her food. You stay in the kitchen, fidgeting with your fork until she comes back, changed into her own clothes.

“I should get back. Do you need anything? Painkillers, ice?” she leans forward, her hand touching your bruise gently. Then, you notice her eyes drifting to your lips.

“I’m fine” you say and she nods, stepping back.

“See you in class?”

“Yes” you say, smiling as she waves goodbye. Carol walks in ten seconds later, looking behind her.

“Was that…?”

“Yes”

“Did you…?”

“No” you cut her off. “She just didn’t want to be alone after what happened”

“Y/N…” Carol says in that tone you dislike so much. You’re about to get scolded over something that isn’t that big of a deal.

“Carol, come on. She slept in my room, I stayed on the couch. That’s it”

“I just don’t want to see you getting hurt” your friend says and you nod. “I mean, you got a split lip and a black eye already so maybe it’s a little late for that”

“Yeah, that’s true. Come on, there are some pancakes left”

——

You tell yourself it means nothing. Wanda sits next to you during class, and offers a second scone she got from the cafeteria.

“How’s the eye?”

“I’m not blind” you shrug your shoulders. “Jarvis hits like a little bitch”

Wanda snorts at that, and you can’t hold back your own laugh. That attracts the attention of Professor Harkness, who focuses on your eye.

“Do I even want to to know, Y/L/N?”

“Nah” you shake your head and she rolls her eyes.

“Alright”

With that, the lesson begins. You try hard to focus, but Wanda smells really nice and you’re only human. At one point, she shuffles in her seat, her leg coming in contact with yours and you give up on taking notes.

“You ok?” to your surprise, Wanda follows you out of the classroom. “I can let you borrow my notes, if you want”

“Wanda” you stop abruptly, sighing. “Listen, you don’t owe me anything. I helped because it was the right thing to do. So don’t worry about paying me back in any way”

“That’s not… ” she stutters, fixing her hair. “I don’t really have any friends. I was always with him”

“Oh” you feel like an idiot. “Well, ok. I could use those notes”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll trade them for a coffee” you smile, walking next to her to the library.

—

It surprises you, how much you and Wanda have in common. She likes sitcoms and though you’re more of a Friends kind of girl, it’s fun to watch those old shows where they dance and sing from time to time.

“I only know Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins” you confess one time, which prompts Wanda to invite you to her dorm for a marathon.

“Where are you going?” Darcy says when you walk past her and Carol that evening.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun” Carol smiles and you glare at your friend.

“Well, Wanda and I…”

“Oh, my God! You traitor. Brutus!” Darcy shouts, throwing a napkin at you. “She’s the worst”

“I wouldn’t know. You didn’t tell me what happened”

“She got you there” Carol points out, eating popcorn while she enjoys the show.

“That is besides the point”

“Look, I’m not putting Wanda on my will or anything, we’re just hanging out. And if she mentions you, I’ll be the first one to defend you”

Darcy sighs, chewing on her lip.

“It’s not about me. Wanda has the habit of just… using people when she’s bored or on a break from that idiot. And then they get back together and forgets about you. Which sucks. I wouldn’t want it to be the case for you, that’s all”

“I’ll be careful” you promise.

Once at Wanda’s, you’re trying to enjoy the show, but Darcy’s words are echoing in your head. You had to admit that if you spent more time with Wanda, you’d probably develop an even bigger crush. And if she went back to that asshole, it would hurt you.

Was it really worth it?

“Is the show boring? We can watch something else. I know it’s weird that I like this” Wanda pauses mid episode.

“No, it’s just… Darcy said some things…”

“Oh. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to hang out anymore” she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it would be good if you fix things with her? Say sorry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it”

“I can try, but you know her. She won’t make it easy” you both laugh at that. “Is that all?”

“Yeah” you lie. “Come on, let’s keep watching. I wanna know if Rob goes to Ritchie’s play”

Wanda smiles, this time moving closer to you. Her head rests on your shoulder, relaxing against you. It’s so intoxicating, to have her so close, to feel her warmth.

And all you can think over and over again is “please don’t break my heart”. But you can’t ask for the impossible.

—

You’re really not expecting Wanda to take your suggestion at heart, but one day you see her speaking with Darcy in the hallway, your friend pretending to not be interested in the conversation at all.

The only sign that she actually forgives Wanda is when you’re sitting with the girl at the cafeteria and Darcy sits next to you, carrying a tray.

“This is the only seat that I could find” she mutters unconvincingly, making you and Wanda smile.

Though you spent most of the time in each other’s dorms, watching movies or shows. You learn that Jarvis was the one that dragged Wanda to all those parties and anytime you invite her to one she politely declines.

Now, you’re staying in while the rest of your friends are at the Odinson mansion. You don’t know if they’re allergies or a mild cold, but you’ve been feeling sick all day and wanted to rest.

“Coming” you groan when someone knocks. You open the door to find Wanda on the other side. “You’ll get sick, what are you doing here?”

“I made you soup”

“Thanks” you take the container, and you gotta admit the idea of warm soup makes your mouth water. “I’d say do you want to come in, but I really do worry this might be contagious”

“I’ll be fine” she walks inside, finding her usual place in the couch and patting the spot next to her. “Come on. We’ll even watch that boring show you like”

“The Office is not boring!” you huff, making her laugh.

A couple of episodes later, and you feel your eyes slowly closing, a side effect from the medicine you took. Wanda notices, and makes you walk to your room.

As you lay in bed, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel Wanda sliding next to you, her hand on your forehead.

“Your fever is down”

“Mhm. Thanks to the magic soup”

“I’m staying, in case you need anything”

“Ok, baby” you nod, too sleepy to notice what you’re saying.

Wanda’s heart flutters at the term of endearment, and she watches you sleep peacefully, her mind racing with thoughts about what could this possibly mean to you both.

On the other hand, you don’t remember anything and are startled when you feel someone sleeping next to you.

“Wanda?” you say when you turn around, smiling at how cute she looks, all confused.

“I must have fallen asleep here. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks” you lay on your side, still smiling. Wanda is still thinking about the way you called her and it’s fairly obvious you don’t remember.

Still, she leans forward and you almost watch in slow motion as her lips meet yours in a short kiss.

“Why did you…”

“You make me feel… I don’t know. Safe. I’m sorry, if I crossed line. Maybe I should go…” she sits up and you follow suit, making her turn to you.

This second kiss is a bit more urgent and less delicate, but you hope it makes a point.

“Now I really hope that what I had wasn’t contagious”

Wanda laughs at that, her hand over yours.

——

The next few weeks you grow closer to Wanda. You spend most of the time at her place, watching sitcoms and more often than not, you end up making out on her bed, until you’re both out of breath.

She also enjoys teasing you endlessly, like that time she sat next to you in Agatha’s class and put her hand on your thigh. Your knee jolted forward, crashing against the table and making the professor glare at you.

This time, you’re supposed to be studying in your room, but you find that looking at Wanda as she goes over her notes is far more interesting.

“Stop” she says after a few minutes and you smile.

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re staring”

“Can you blame me?” you crawl behind her, placing small kisses down her neck. She sighs at the contact, leaning against your front.

“Are you doing this to get my notes?”

“Maybe” you laugh against her shoulder, making her turn until you’re kissing her, and she pushes you down on the bed, straddling your lap.

“You better work for them, then”

Next day, when you’re done with your test, the first thing you do is reach for Wanda’s hand. To your surprise, she flinches away, grabbing the strap of her bagpack.

“Did you do ok on the test?” she’s quick to ask, hoping you won’t push it too much.

“I think so, yeah”

“If you pass, I’d say you owe me for borrowing my notes” she smiles.

“Well, we could go out to the movies. Or dinner?” you suggest, your heart beating faster. It’s a thought that has been going through your mind recently.

Not that you don’t enjoy the kissing and sneaking around, but you’re eager to take Wanda out, find new places together, talk about something else other than classes and her old shows.

“I’m not sure I can make it” Wanda says, avoiding your eyes again.

This new rejection stings and you drop your shoulders, looking for an excuse to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. We have lots of stuff to do. I’ll catch you later” you say, walking faster and not waiting for Wanda’s reply.

The rest of the day is spent in your dorm, which isn’t unusual. The only difference is that you’re alone instead of enjoying Wanda’s company, and hiding from seeing her.

“Wanna go to Joe’s with us?” Carol offers. “To celebrate midterms are over”

“Sounds fun” you agree, because it’s been forever since you’ve been with your friends.

“You can invite your girl”

“She’s not my girl”

“Oh?” Carol tilts her head to the side, putting the pieces together. “So that’s why you only hang out in the dorms”

“What did you think we were doing?”

“Having sex like crazy”

No answer comes to you, because sex is something that hasn’t happened yet. Or maybe never, considering Wanda doesn’t want anything more.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants, Carol”

“Do you?” she asks gently. Your immediate response is a shrug of your shoulders, and it’s a lie, because you know exactly what you want. “Come on, it’s her loss then. Let’s just go out and have fun”

Meeting your friends does improve your mood and you’re happy you listened to Carol. You eat and play pool, until everyone gets restless and looks for something else to do.

“Heard Stark is having a party” Carol says, knowing he always gets the fancy booze.

“Pass” you’re the first one to speak.

“Why?”

“Isn’t he best friends with Jarvis?” Darcy says. “We don’t want to have another fight, do we?”

“Oh come on, there will be so many people he won’t even notice that you’re there!” Carol insists, and you can tell she’s gonna be stubborn and annoying until she gets what she wants.

So, you agree, but spend the whole time looking around, waiting for that jerk to pop out of nowhere and pick up a fight.

“I don’t think he’s here” Darcy says, patting your back. “Let’s just have some fun, then Val will drag Carol out of here and we can go home, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan” you nod.

For the next hour, you do enjoy the party and are even surprised when Tony seems happy to see you. To be fair, he is a lot nicer than most of his friends. You’re relaxed, dancing to the music and doing shots with Darcy and Val, almost forgetting why you were so sad in the first place.

That is, until you walk out of the living room to get another beer, but the place is so crowded you bump into a girl.

“Sorry, are you ok?” you say, turning to make sure she’s fine.

Your stomach drops when your eyes meet Wanda’s.

She calls for you, but the sound of her voice is drowned out by the music and the ringing in your ears. Jarvis says Wanda’s name, and you take advantage of the distraction to escape, pushing people out of the way.

When the fresh air hits you, the first thing you do is bend over the railing of the porch and throw up, coughing and wretching violently.

“It’s ok” Darcy comes out of nowhere, getting the hair out of your face.

“Shit” Val sobers up immediately. “Time to go home?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get a cab” Carol says, patting your back.

They think you’re wasted, but all you are is heartbroken. Wanda was with him, after everything you’ve been through.

The shame over being so naive makes you stay in your dorm for the entire day.

Wanda shows up the minute Carol leaves.

“You should go”

“Please let me explain”

“I don’t think that’s possible” you shake your head. You know it, deep down. She’ll never give you a place in her life.

“We’re just… friends. He wanted to talk, apologize”

“Wanda” you plead, hoping she’ll stop. But instead, she pushes past you, her hands in your face.

“I can’t lose you”

“Why would I stay?”

Wanda answers with a kiss, that is slow at first, and then borderline agressive. You’re pushing, then pulling, unsure of what you want from her, but she pulls your pants down, just enough for her hand to fit, moving past your underwear and circling your clit. Your nails dig into her shoulders, gasping and breathing as she enters roughly, her fingers moving fast and hard.

It’s not nice or affectionate, but a way to further claim you, ruin you, brand you. Now she’s reached and touched more of you, and you’ll never be able to erase it.

Your orgasm comes unexpectedly, and after the high, you come crashing down. All you feel is bitterness and guilt and anger. Wanda stays inside, biting your neck. The sting reminds you, you’re only gonna get pain out of this.

—

It becomes a vicious circle. Wanda is distant in public, because more often than not Jarvis is by her side. And then, she corners you in any spot she can find, kissing you and pressing her body against yours.

The more you let her in, the weaker you are and it’s nearly impossible to stay away. It will hurt if she leaves, and it hurts to be with her.

“I don’t know how to stay away” you confess to Carol one particularly hard night. Darcy was called to offer her support, and she provided that along with snacks. “You were right, Darcy”

“I didn’t want to be” she says, holding your hand. “You’re the only one who can put a stop to this. She’ll never stop looking for you”

You can’t see yourself doing that, but then you walk past her in the hallway, and you hear her saying those words to Jarvis.

“I love you”

You couldn’t even get her to hold your fucking hand.

Pushing past her, you walk away, hoping to find the nearest bathroom and lock yourself there. Lucky for you, Wanda doesn’t follow you.

There’s someone else waiting outside.

“Miss Y/L/N” Professor Harkness greets and you nod, looking at your feet and hoping she doesn’t notice your red eyes.

“Professor”

“You’re too advanced for my class. My wife has a spot in her lecture. New people to impress, most of them pHD students”

Her emphasis in the new makes you understand.

You won’t have to see Wanda in class.

“Ok. I’d like that”

“Keep your head high, kiddo” Agatha says, her hand on your chin. “And don’t tell any of this to Rio or she’ll accuse me of going soft”

“Yes, Professor Harkness. Thank you”

“Mhm” she nods, giving her signature smirk and turning around.

One less place where you’ll have to see Wanda.

Soon after that, you change everything about your routine. Where you eat, study, even go out for runs. Hell, you change your phone number and Darcy is kind enough to let you stay with her for a while. That, and the Thanksgiving break are enough to give you three weeks of space.

It hurts and more than once you have to stop yourself from looking for Wanda. But what’s the point of being a secret? The longer it goes on, the more it will hurt.

Still, there are days when anger weights heavier than sadness. You’re mad at yourself, for being so stupid. At Wanda, because she was a coward and a liar. And those times, you get restless and go out to run, listening to music until you reach a hidden lake. It’s one of the few places you can be at peace, because you found it after Wanda broke your heart. So, there’s no ghost of her here, only you and your conflicting emotions.

Throwing stones at the lake is a way to pass time, and you’re doing exactly that when you hear rustling behind you.

“Sorry” a raspy voice says. Your eyes meet green ones, but these are softer, almost shy. The girl has beautiful red hair, braided with a few strands lose. She misinterprets your silence, and quickly retreats. “I’ll find another spot”

“That’s ok. I can… I can go”

“No, you don’t have to” she’s quick to reassure.

“Well, we can always share” you propose, smiling. The girl nods, and places her bagpack next to a log. She pulls out a book, and begins reading. You continue throwing rocks, stealing glances here and there.

“Is the book any good?” you finally ask.

“Depends”

“On what?”

“On your fascination with social expectations in Russian society during the 19th century”

“Pass. Got anything lighter?” you joke. To your surprise, the girl pulls out another book.

“How about the perils of indulging in romantic fantasies?”

“I know those very well” you say, grimacing. She puts the book down, smiling at you. You try to smile back, but turn your attention back to the lake until you’re able to calm down.

“Lit major?” you guess, pointing at the spot next to her. She moves her bag, allowing you to sit.

“Yeah. You?”

“Anthropology. Minor in Art History. I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other in the building”

“I'm a grad student, so I’m usually at the library” the girl says.

“No parties?”

“No one ever invites me” she shakes her head.

“I’d invite you” you blurt out, finding her blush adorable. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward”

“It’s not… you’re fine”

“So. Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary. Are you trying to find out if Tolstoy really wrote his book with Flaubert’s in mind?”

The girl gives you an appreciative smile, nodding.

“Yeah, but it’s more about how men in 19th century wrote about women. Even in two different societies, the protagonists are punished for following their desires”

“No one should be punished for that” you say, looking at her. She averts her eyes, holding back a smile.

“Why Anthropology?” she changes the subject.

“Because. We’re the same and we’re not, even thousand of years apart. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“How so?”

“Do you think you have anything in common with someone who lived thirty thousand years ago?”

“We need food to survive. Sleep, water, oxygen” she lists, and you nod.

“Mhm. All basic needs. Next question, did you make a drawing of your hand when you were a kid?”

“Everyone did” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Because it was my hand and no one else’s”

“And people thirty thousand years ago thought the same thing. And left their handprint in a cave in Southern France. Isn’t that something wonderful?”

She stays silent for a second and then smiles.

“I suppose it is, yes. To have an impact, so long after you’re gone too”

“You get it” you nod. “I’m Y/N, by the way”

“Natasha” she says, smiling at you.

The next few days, you catch yourself thinking about Natasha, and even with all the distractions, your mind goes back to her. It takes every ounce of self control to not wait everyday by the lake. Why would you want to get hurt, when you just started healing?

Love never ends well for Anna Karenina, Emma Bovary or yourself.

And yet… three days later you’re by the lake, holding a book of your own collection and an extra scone. You’re about to give up when Natasha shows up, and she seems as eager as you.

“Hey”

“Hi” she answers, a smile on her face. “Am I interrupting lunch?”

“This is for you. I mean, I was hoping I’d see you here” you stutter, looking everywhere but Natasha’s eyes.

“I was hoping to see you too” she confesses. It takes you by surprise, so she grabs the scone and the book as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Emily Dickinson” she reads. “Enjoying it?”

“You can borrow it if you want. I mean, yes I enjoyed it when I read it. But I just thought, you might like a change from male authors”

“Thank you” she nods, holding it close to her. “I actually have to go…”

“Oh, right” you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

“Can I have your number?” Natasha blurts out, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. “To give you your book back”

You smile, handing over your phone.

“I recently changed my number and I haven’t memorized it yet. So give me yours”

“Ok” she says. As soon as the device is back in your hands, you send her a text.

“See? Now I’m sure I gave you the right number”

“Talk to you soon. Thanks for the food”

When is it appropriate to text someone without looking desperate?

Either way, you can’t hold back your excitement as you walk to your dorm, jumping on Carol’s back as she’s eating her cereal.

“Are you mad?” she says, flakes and milk flying all over the counter.

“I’m just happy!”

“Why?” she glares, hoping you’re not back to your old ways.

“I spoke to a girl. And she gave me her phone number”

“Oh, my God! Y/N!” Carol shouts, the rest of her cereal thrown away as she dances around.

“What’s all the fuss?” Val says from the shower, concerned over the noise. Carol runs to the bathroom and opens the door wide.

“Y/N met a girl”

“Way to go!” Val joins the celebration and you’re about to say thank you when you notice she’s stepping out of the shower.

“Gah, bye”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want your new girlfriend to think you’re a pervert!”

“Shut up” you say, walking to your room and flipping her off without turning back.

The rest of your evening is spent studying, but also looking at your phone waiting for anything to come through.

As you’re getting ready to sleep, there’s a text.

Nat: I’m ready to give the book back.

Y/N: It’s been… seven hours?

Nat: I’m a fast reader.

Nat: Secret spot? Saturday morning.

Y/N: I’ll be there

—

It’s the first time you’re there so early. The light filters through the leaves, birds chirping as their day begins with the rays of sunshine.

The walk to the lake is lovely, and you spot a couple of small flowers as you find your way to the place. Deciding to get one for luck, you twirl it around in your fingers.

You sit by the log, looking at the fog over the surface of the water when you hear soft footsteps approaching.

“I was afraid you’d stood me up” you joke when Natasha sits next to you.

“And stole your book?”

“The book, I could get over” you admit, giving her the flower. Natasha smiles, her fingertips caressing the petals delicately.

Your eyes are focused on the curve of her lips and those beaufitul eyes.

“Well, I’m here” she says, smiling when your eyes meet hers. “Thank you, I enjoyed reading it”

You take the book, your hands touching briefly.

“There’s a problem, though”

“What is it?” you say, worried that something’s wrong.

“I gave the book back, but I still have to thank you for that scone”

“Oh” you laugh.

“So, what is your preferred payment method? Ice cream? Coffee?”

“It’s a little early for ice cream”

“Then we’ll get it later. I know just the place”

“Yeah. I’d like that”

Though there are no classes, Natasha still has to meet with her advisor, so you chat for an hour until she has to go back to uni, agreeing to meet at your dorm in the evening.

“Is this a date?” you ask your friends on the video call as they agree on what you should wear.

“Of course it is, you silly goose!” Carol says, her face occupying half of the screen. “Wear something hot!”

“No, something comfortable. It’s an ice cream date, not a club” Val argues, trying to get a glimpse of the options.

“Something comfortable AND hot”

As they keep arguing, you opt for a pair of jeans, a white cotton t-shirt and a light jacket.

“Gotta go” you say when someone knocks. After hanging up, you are surprised to check Natasha’s ten minutes early. Plus, you don’t remember giving her your exact room number, agreeing you’d come down and meet at the lobby.

You’re about to open the door when the voice on the other side makes you stop in your tracks.

“Y/N? Please. Open up. I need you”

Wanda.

That voice, those words, the feelings you’ve been trying so hard to push away and bury come back. But instead of hurting you, they make you angry. You’re about to go out with a wonderful girl, who seems geniuenly interested in you. And here comes Wanda, trying to stain that as well.

Without thinking twice, you climb out of the window, holding on to the emergency ladder. You look down, unsure of what to do when you reach the last step.

"What are you doing?" Natasha says, rushing to stand above you.

"Parkour?" you reply weakly. "Is it too high?"

"Don't worry, I'll catch you"

Trusting her, you jump. Truth to her word, she eases the fall as you land, but you drag her along with you as you stay on the floor.

“Are you hurt? Why did you do that?”

Her hands are running over every inch of your face, going down to your shoulders and arms. The worry in her eyes only makes your heart beat faster.

“My roomate accidentally locked me inside”

You figure it's better than saying "My situationship is outside my door and I wanted to avoid her"

“You could have told me, and I would have gone and find her” Natasha insists.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s get ice cream? I won’t ever do this again” you promise, holding her hand. The redhead rolls her eyes, but nods and leads you away from the building.

You make small talk, appreciating how her hand doesn’t leave yours as you get away from campus and to the walking district. You try to look discreetly behind you, hoping Wanda didn’t see you and followed you.

Natasha finds the store, opening the door for you.

“Rocky road, please” you give Natasha puppy eyes and she smiles, ordering strawberry ice cream for her.

“So, what’s your deal?” she asks as you leave the store.

“My deal? What do you mean?” you say, mouth full of ice cream. The girl wipes the corner of your mouth with her napkin.

“You mentioned parties. Are you some sort of wild girl looking for someone to charm every night?”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite the Casanova” you laugh. “No, come on. My friends are cool and we just like to have fun from time to time”

“So, not a player” she notes with a smile.

“I did get my heart broken, though”

“Fella done you wrong?”

“His girlfriend done me wrong” you correct, wishing you were talking about anything else. But truthfully, if you want things to work out, you better be honest. “She was with me, but only on her terms and as if I were a secret”

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that”

“I moved on. So, don’t think I’m just messing here, Nat. I really like you” you hurry to say, blushing slightly.

“I like you too” she takes your hand. “Now, let’s finish our ice cream so I can show you this awesome bookstore I found”

The next few hours are spent talking about college, some of your plans for the future and also, your friends. You smile when Natasha comments she’d love to hang out with them.

Before it gets dark, you walk back to campus. Worried that Wanda might still be at your door, you asked Darcy a while back to go check. Apparently, the coast was clear.

Natasha walks you to the door.

“I had the best time” you say, smiling. “We should do it again. Maybe go to the movies?”

“Would love to” Natasha nods, her eyes drifting to your lips. You lean forward, heart beating fast as you’re eager to feel her lips on yours.

“Are you still here? I told you to beat it!” Darcy opens the door, making you both jump back. “Oops, I thought you were someone else. Sorry, I’ll go back inside. Pretend this didn’t happen, make out”

“Darcy” you groan. Your friend doesn’t get inside, though.

“The famous Natasha. Y/N here won’t shut up about you”

“Shhh, don’t listen to her, she’s off her meds” you ask Nat, covering Darcy’s mouth and pushing her inside. As you close the door, you hold it so she can’t open it again.

Natasha laughs, her hands going to your hips and pulling you softly. You take a few steps forward, smiling as she lifts your chin, leaning to connect your lips in a slow kiss.

It’s mindblowingly good, although too short for your liking.

“So, when are we doing this again?”

“The date or the kiss?” she jokes and your hands go around her neck.

“Both”

“As soon as you’re free” she says, kissing you once more before leaving for the day.

Darcy snaps a picture the second you walk inside.

“That’s the gayest you’ve ever looked, congrats” she says, sending the picture to the group chat.

You roll your eyes, pulling out your phone and smiling.

Y/N: Best I’ve ever had

Nat: The kiss or the ice cream?

Y/N: What do you think?

Smiling at your phone, you walk to the couch where your friend is sitting.

“I’m happy that you’re happy” she says, relieved that you’re healing from everything that Wanda put you through.

“Me too” you sigh, pulling your knees against your chest. “Though I do have to ask. Did Wanda say why was she here?”

“I didn’t care enough to find out. All I did was tell her to leave you alone. And then I pretended you were inside so she wouldn’t go anywhere else looking for you”

“You’re a great friend” you nudge her with your foot and she glares.

“Ew, get that thing away from me”

“I take it back” you show her your tongue.

The next week, you text Natasha between classes, and though she’s very busy, she’s always making time to get back to you. You agree to go out on another date on Friday, but neither one can wait to see each other, so you end up at the library on a Wednesday evening, each one focused on your work.

Well, Natasha is focused on her work. You’re looking at her, because this is the first time you’ve seen her wearing glasses and it’s adorable.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Plenty” you say, not even pretending to be reading your notes.

“You’re not the only one who’s staring” Natasha’s eyebrow arches, speaking without looking up. “Brunette, green eyes, a lot of rings and eyeshadow”

“Oh”

“Is that the infamous ex?” she says and you’re scared she’ll be upset about this whole situation.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m sorry. If she’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll just leave…”

Natasha looks up at that, eyeing you up and down as you struggle to read her expression. She surprises you by pulling your chair until it bumps against hers, leaning forward and kissing you, one of her hands on your thigh and the other holding your chin, in that signature move that always makes your head spin.

“Maybe that’ll keep her away” Natasha says, smiling and bumping her nose against yours.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to focus on an essay” you say, biting your lip.

“Then let’s get something to eat. We need a break from all this studying” she proposes, picking up her things and leading you out of the library, her hand in yours.

You don’t care to look around for Wanda to check if she’s watching, because this moment with Natasha is yours. She’s holding your hand, kissing you, spending time with you whenever she can, instead of hiding you like you’re a dirty secret.

By being herself, she’s given you the one thing you always craved for. Something real.

Finally, Friday comes and you’re buzzing with excitement, getting ready to meet Natasha.

“Wanna go to a party tomorrow? You can invite your girlfriend” Val says, painting her nails while Carol throws a ball in the air.

“We haven’t had the talk about being each other girlfriends”

“What? And you call yourself a lesbian? This is the second date, you should be adopting a cat by now”

“Like you and Val with Goose?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sorry to disappoint the sapphics, I’m just trying to not scare her away. And about the party, yeah, if Natasha’s up for it, we’ll stop by”

“Alright, it’s at Stark’s”

“Oh. Maybe not, then”

Your friends share a look, and you glare as they both stay silent.

“You can’t avoid her forever” Val is the first one to speak. “She’s gonna keep looking for you, getting in the middle of what could be a good relationship just because she thinks she can”

“Yeah, next time you see her, don’t jump out the window. Open the door and tell her off” Carol agrees.

“You did what?” Val looks at you, baffled.

“It’s ok, Nat was there to catch me. Speaking of which” you hear a knock on the door, and stand up. “See ya, cat ladies”

“Hey! We only have the one”

You laugh as you open the door, but then you’re interrupted by Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Hey”

“Hello” she smiles, and then looks behind you as your friends whistle.

“Meet Val and Carol. My two former best friends” you grumble when they make kissing sounds.

“Nice to meet you” Natasha greets over your shoulder.

“Bring her home at a decent time” Carol says. “Unless you plan on having sex. In that case take her back to yours so she doesn’t wake me up”

“I hate you so much” you sigh, pulling Nat away.

“We’ll see you at the party tomorrow”

“Sorry about them” you mumble when you’re going down the stairs.

“What was that about a party?” she asks, opening the car door for you.

“Ever heard of Tony Stark? Big house, bigger ego. Loves to have parties. We don’t have to go unless you want to” you say, half expecting her to turn down the invitation.

“If you want me to go I’ll be there”

“I just want us to spend some time together, doing whatever you want” you say, blushing.

“I did promise I’d try going to a party with you, and it seems like the perfect time. Could meet the rest of your friends”

“Alright then” you nod, excited and terrified about how things could turn out if a certain someone is there.

Carol is right, though. You can’t be looking over your shoulder all the time, expecting Wanda to approach you and open those wounds.

If you have closure, in whatever way that is, she won’t have the power to hurt you anymore.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Natasha by your side, her hand clasped in yours over your leg. At one point, you lean against her shoulder and she kisses your temple.

She’s so perfect, it makes you dizzy.

“What did you think about the movie?” she asks as you go out of the theater, her arm around your waist.

“It was good. I’m glad I understood most of it without having watched those other Alien movies”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked a different one” she protests, pulling you to a stop.

“I just want to be with you. Plus you looked so excited to watch it, I had a hard time saying no”

“Is that so?” she arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t use that against me, Natasha” you warn, getting ready to argue but her lips silence you, and you moan against the kiss.

It’s not nearly enough, and you need more of her, not just kissing.

“So if I ask you to go back home with me, will you still have a hard time saying no?”

“On the second date? What do you think I am, a harlot?”

“I’d count the lake as a date of it’s own. And the library too”

“So, this is like the fourth one?” you say, counting with your fingers.

“You don’t have to, I was only…”

Natasha’s words are cut off by your lips on hers, and she holds back a moan of her own when you run your tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’d very much like to go back to your place”

The drive back is silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. There’s a certain tension, and the expectation of what is about to happen makes you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

“This is home” Natasha says, opening the door to her apartment. Of course, as a grad student, you expected her to have her own place, but you still admire how homey it feels. There are books everywhere, which makes sense, and pictures of Natasha’s family.

“It’s lovely” you say, turning back to look at her. The tour of the place is forgotten, as you watch Natasha approach you slowly, her hands dropping to your waist.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. A bit” you admit, because lying to Natasha has never been something you’d consider doing. “I want this to be perfect. And for you to really like it��

For me to be enough.

“It’s already perfect” she says, coming closer and kissing you slowly. Your eyes close as you enjoy the sensation of her lips against yours, hands wandering to your lower back. Without breaking the kiss, you discard your jacket and take hers off as well, and she immediately pulls you against her, your hands holding her cheeks as she deepens the kiss.

“Are we doing it standing up?” you ask when she breaks apart, breathing heavily against your neck. “Because I’ve never tried it, but I am open to experimenting”

“You could just say that we should take this to the bedroom” she laughs against your temple.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Still, she laughs as you pull her by the belt loop of her pants, guessing that her bedroom must be that last door to the left.

“Bingo” you smile, opening the door. There are more books scattered on the nightstand and the floor, but at least the bed is clear. “God, Nat, your reading is gonna kill me” you say as you fall to the bed and make her land on top of you.

“Sorry, I don’t have company very often”

“Are you a virgin?” you tease, knowing full well she’s dated in the past, though nothing serious.

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, her lips drifting down to your neck, and then lower to your stomach. In one swift motion, she unsclaps your bra and lifts your shirt up, her tongue swirling around a nipple. You moan, surprised at the contact, holding her head in place as she moves to the other nipple.

“Does it look like my first time?” Natasha says against your lips, her hands going down to undo the button of your jeans.

“I’m sorry, I was only joking, baby” you say, and it’s almost embarassing how desperate you sound.

“Good girl” she comments, pulling your pants down. You struggle with your underwear and Natasha’s too impatient, so she pulls it aside and starts eating you out, her tongue making circles and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you say, biting your hand to keep you from screaming. Natasha nudges your clit with her nose as she moves to go up and down and you’re close when she stops. “Why?”

“I want to be inside you”

It’s a mystery, how your brain doesn’t stop functioning at that, but you manage to discard your shirt and start to undress Natasha, eager to feel her skin against yours. Once you’re both naked, she flips you, so you’re on top of her, straddling her lap.

“I’m debating if it would be better to have my fingers or my strap buried in your pussy” she says, and you wonder how the girl who is so well spoken can manage to be so crass.

Not that you’re complaining.

“Anything you want” you say, aware that you’re rubbing your center against her thigh.

“What’s that?”

“I… please. Just use me” you plead, desperate for some release.

Those words do it for Natasha, who takes out a strap on from her nightstand. You protest when she stands up to fasten it around her hips, feeling like you’re gonna combust if she’s not touching you.

“Shh, I’m here” she soothes you, laying on top of you and rubbing the strap against your entrance.

“Fuck me, Nat” you squeeze your legs around her, hoping she stops teasing you.

“That’s the plan, baby. Tell me if it hurts?” Natasha asks as she begins to fill you up, and you’re too far gone to give a verbal confirmation, nodding instead.

“More” you insist when she stops, searching for any sign of discomfort. Natasha thrusts forward, sinking the entire shaft and you moan, arching your back. “Harder”

Truthfully, Natasha’s never been so adventurous or forward in her sex life, but the way you’re pleading, clenching and panting underneath her, wakes something entirely new inside her. Pushing your knees against your chest, she moves in and out, reaching new spots that make you see stars.

“Yes, yes, yes” is all you manage to say, holding on to the sheets as your knuckles turn white. “Nat, I’m gonna…”

The words are stuck in your mouth as a powerful orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless. You feel Natasha slowing down her movements, and then she goes to kiss your neck, the strap still buried inside you.

“That was…” you sigh, trying to make your brain work. As your breathing steadies, your muscles relax and you let a finger run up and down Natasha’s side. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the one with the big words”

“That was fucking hot” she says, making you laugh. “And I’m not done with you”

Good thing your schedule was clear for the next day, because you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

—

Your muscles feel sore when you wake up, stretching and turning in Natasha’s arms, watching her sleep.

Her alarm woke you up, but she’s still sound asleep.

“Nat” you say, moving her fiery hair out of her face. “Baby”

“No” she protests.

“Time to get up. You’re meeting your advisor, remember?”

Natasha curses under her breath, clearly not caring enough to wake up.

“Hey… what if I sit on your face?”

“I’m up” she says, opening her eyes and pulling you by the waist. “Come on, giddy up”

“Nuh-uh. Get dressed”

“Why would you lie about something like that?” she whines, burying her face in your neck.

“I didn’t lie, because technically, I didn’t say I’d do it right now. Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast and then we can go back to uni”

“Fine. But this discussion is not over” she kisses your cheeks, neck and then your lips, smiling as you laugh. “Morning”

“Morning, baby” you say, appreciating how beautiful she looks even with bed hair.

When she gets up, you find one of her t-shirts and go to the kitchen, looking at your options. You opt for french toast and make some coffee, because Natasha is definitely gonna need it to stay awake.

“Tastes amazing” she comments when you sit down to eat.

“Breakfast or me?” you tease and she almost chokes with her coffee. “Sorry, let’s eat”

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“Laundry, some homework. Standard stuff”

“Do you have any plans for lunch?” Natasha asks and you shake your head no. “Would you like to eat with me? After I’m done with my meeting and you finish your stuff, of course”

“Would love to” you say, smiling at how domestic and perfect it all feels.

Once you finish breakfast, you get changed and walk to Nat’s car. Parking close to your dorm, she kisses you goodbye and walks to the professor's offices.

You’re so distracted, thinking about everything that happened that you don’t notice Wanda sitting outside your dorm until you’re at the door.

“Wanda” you say, your hands in the pocket of your jeans. “Hey”

“Y/N? Did you just get here?” she says, looking around and then at the time on her phone. “You didn’t sleep here?”

“What do you want?”

“I want… to apologize”

You sigh, hoping the conversation ends soon so you don’t have to ever talk to her again.

“Anything else?”

“I thought he would change. He promised. But then it happened, again and again. And all I could think about is how you’d never do that to me”

“No, I wouldn’t. But now it’s too late. You made your choice”

“It was the wrong choice. Please, just give me another chance. I was scared before…”

“No, Wanda. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear it and we’re not gonna be anything at all. Natasha is… she’s amazing and I want to be with her. You had a choice to make and you went with him. And now… I have to choose the girl I’m in love with”

“Is there anything I can do or say…?”

“No. I’m sorry” you shake your head. Wanda nods, wiping away the tears. It does tug at your heart, seeing her so alone and broken. But it’s not on you to fix this.

Not anymore.

You let out a sigh when she leaves the hallway, turning in the other direction so she doesn’t see you wiping away a tear of your own.

Your eyes meet Natasha’s. She’s holding a bouquet, looking at you intensely.

“Nat. I can explain.”

The redhead drops the flowers and you’re scared she’ll walk away, but instead, she approaches you, lifting you as she kisses you. You sigh against her lips, holding on to her as if she’s the only thing in the world.

“I heard. Everything. You don’t have to explain anything” she puts you down, smiling. “I’m in love with you too”

“I don’t… know what to say” you laugh, craddling her face in your hands.

“No need to speak” she pulls you closer again, walking back until your're cornered against your door.

“I swear to God, if it’s that girl again I’m going to…” Carol opens the door without a warning, making you almost fall. “Awww, you guys! Val, come look! They’re kissing”

“With tongue?”

“I hate you so much” you complain, hiding your face in Natasha’s neck. She laughs, kissing your temple. “Now close the door so I can say goodbye to my girlfriend”

“Girlfriend? Val, they’re girlfriends!”

“Wohoo!” the girl screams from somewhere inside the apartment.

“Agh, it’s like having overbearing lesbian mothers” you slam the door shut, turning to Natasha. “I’m staying at your place tonight, or they will drive me insane with all their questions”

“Tonight, every night. Whatever you want. Just know… you’re getting very little sleep” she says with a smirk, kissing you.

“I can live with that”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

1K notes · View notes

pedgito · 7 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | dbf!Joel Miller x reader

summary | you're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

content warning | listen. i wrote this in 3 hours, idk what to say. i had a thot and it went from there. its completely p w/o p, dbf!joel, age gap, moodboard is for aesthetic and reader is mostly not described aside from hair long enough to be put up, unhinged popsicle eating, eye-fucking, public-ish unprotected p in v car sex. listen i'm on my period rn don't look at me and thank you for my love, my twin, @chaotic-mystery for constantly supporting my gremlin behavior

word count — 3.2k

Out of all the people you had the chance of running into—of course it was Joel.

The chances were slim, but not impossible. You knew his work schedule well enough, similar to that of your fathers. He worked early mornings into the late evening, taking his commute home just as the sun was starting to set.

You gripped the gas can in one hand as you made your way down the side road, the other hand placed over your eyes like a visor to block the sun away. You didn’t even have a cell signal out here, so the walk seemed fruitless.

But, you had to find a gas station.

You thought you could make it home, which was clearly poor judgment, and the hair falling from the haphazardly tied knot on top of your head was sticking to your neck, eyes squinting as the truck pulled up next to you.

“Now, darlin’—the hell are you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere?” Joel asks, the blast of AC hitting you in the face as he rolls down the window, arm leaned over the console as he looked you over.

It was clear you’ve been out here longer than you should and Joel doesn’t even take a second to hesitate before he’s popping the handle on the passenger door and inviting you inside the cooler cabin of his truck.

��Where are you comin’ from?” He asks, shifting the truck into drive before he rests his palm over the gear shift.

“A friend, I thought I had enough gas to make it home but,” You shrug, waving vaguely at your car parked on the side of the road as he drives by.

What took a fifteen minute walk to where Joel had picked you up was only a minute or so drive back. Joel looks at you wearily and turns up the AC, blasting the stray hairs away from your face but the immediate burst of cold feels like absolute heaven.

“Grab a water out of my cooler, sweetheart,” He gestures with a thumb over his shoulder and you scramble, leaning over the center console with your ass popped up in the air.

Joel assumed it had to have been a pool party, the skirt covering your bottom half doing nothing to hide the thin, strappy bikini bottoms you wore underneath.

Joel doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s worried that you might hurt yourself, his hand reaching out to wrap around your calf in an effort to keep you steady.

A subtle smirk plays at the corner of your mouth as you reach for the water inside the cooler and pop your head back up, your ass grazing his hand on the way down as you twist back into your seat.

Little touches were never a big thing with you two, normal and constant and nothing unusual.

A hand on your shoulder at family cookouts, his hands engulfing yours as he popped open the cap on your beer, a squeeze of his hand at the back of your neck when he hugged you after a month or two of not seeing you around your father’s house due to college or work, whatever was keeping you so busy. He didn’t try to pry, but you’ve been around less and less with each passing summer—so this unsuspecting time with you, he didn’t mind. It was nice.

Really nice.

You twist at the cap and take a drink of the water, so thirsty that it starts to drip out of your mouth, a small droplet down your chin, reaching your chest and down the center of your breasts.

“It ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Joel jokes, squinting his eyes as he hides the growing grin on his face with his usual frown.

“Sorry, being out in that heat like that…” You take a breath, recalling the bottle and putting it in the drink holder, “I just feel so stupid for thinking I could make it.“

When the street lights come into view, you know you're closer to actual civilization. And, just as Joel takes a right on the next intersection you stop at, there it was.

“It happens,” Joel comforts, “but you were lucky I was drivin’ home—can’t even think about what could have happened if I didn’t pass by.”

Joel pulls into the gas station and turns off the ignition.

“Well,” You flash a bright smile, squeezing at his shoulder—he’s got on a dark shirt plastered with the logo of the construction company he worked for, faded and slightly damp from his own sweat, “you did and I’m thankful for it, Joel.”

“Hand it over,” Joel motions toward the gas can, “I’ll fill ‘er up for you.”

“Joel, you don’t have to—“

Joel tilts his head toward the gas can at your feet, eyebrows raised and hand held out expectantly.

“Just hand it over.”

You sigh softly and relent, reaching between your legs to grab the plastic jug, knowing of the eyes that drag down your spine from the open back of your top, tied just as your neck and the side of your breasts spilling out of your swim top.

Joel knows a snag, just a simple hook of his fingers would send them spilling out into the cool air, nipples perked up under the mesh fabric of your top and—

“Joel.”

Joel’s eyes pull up suddenly, his face flushed but he’s lucked out by the redness of hot, summer heat on his face.. He clears his throat and grabs the gas can.

“Be right back,” He tells you, “stay put, alright?”

“And where would I go?” You retort playful, “I’m sure you’d find me again anyways.”

Joel chuckles to himself with a shake of his head as he departs into the store, handing a ten to the clerk before he takes a quick glance back at you, fanning yourself with your hand and chugging down another swig of water.

“Actually,” Joel pauses for a moment, holding a finger up as he lingers down the aisle toward the freezer and grabs out two popsicles, hoping that would quell some of the heat, even if for a moment—plus, he knew you had quite the sweet tooth, “there, just put whatever’s left on the pump and I’ll use that to fill it up.”

The clerk nods and scans the items, handing Joel off the receipt and he’s half jogging back toward his truck—quick to toss you the keys and the two popsicle’s he’d bought.

“What is this?” You ask cheerfully, eyes lighting up as they plopped into your lap.

Joel kept the driver's side open as he filled up the gas can, watching as you peeled eagerly at the popsicle, the red dye immediately dripping down your fingers as you pulled away the plastic.

“Just throw it on the floorboard—I’ll clean it up later,” Joel notes as you look around, placing the lid back on the gas can before climbing back into the truck, “you mind openin’ mine?”

You place the cherry flavored popsicle between your lips with an eagerness that forces Joel to look away, the sound of you peeling away plastic in his ear as he pulls out of the gas station and makes his way back toward your car.

“Thank you, baby,” He says casually—not all that odd either, he’s got a million nicknames for you, some trickier to let slip around others but there was an unspoken agreement. You never minded, never cared.

He was only ever Joel to you and he didn’t mind that either.

“Of course,” You smile, before dragging your tongue along the bottom of the popsicle and back up, sinking it back between your lips.

Joel just bites at it, not one to savor things very often.

You giggle and roll your eyes, the popsicle tip just as the edge of your lips before Joel is looking over at you curiously, ignoring the red stain of popsicle on your tongue as it peeks out.

“What?”

“Just—you’re not even trying to enjoy it, Joel.”

“It’s meant to be eaten, right?”

“It’s hot—it’s a cold treat, you’re supposed to make it last a little. Come on,” You hold the popsicle out for demonstration before licking up the side, sinking your lips back down in a show that was more for yourself, knowing how he constantly looked at you—if Joel chokes on the bite of flavored ice in his mouth you don’t see it.

It wasn’t a secret, how he looked at you. It’s been a few years since you left for college and teetering that line, nearing your mid-twenties now it seemed like it had only gotten more and more obvious. Joel’s never made his own advances aside from the one time your drunken state made you a little too confident, sliding between his legs at one of your family parties late at night, pressing a kiss right against his lips that ended far too quickly.

He did kiss you back though, you do remember that.

“Alright, alright,” Joel waves his hand at you nonchalantly, “you can cut that out.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the sticky sweet juice slip down your fingers as the popsicle starts to melt, nearly finished as Joel had already downed his own.

“I’m just eating the popsicle,” You brush him off, “that you bought me—“

“You know what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

You do, but that half second of lingering pause makes Joel worry he has read the situation completely wrong.

“What? Do you not like it?” You tease him, “Doesn’t it turn you on, Joel?”

You finish up the last bit before tucking the stick into the plastic and back on the ground, suddenly realizing the red dye had stained the front of your top, causing a frown to form on your face as you rubbed at the material.

“Shit,” You curse, ignoring the heated look on Joel’s face at your words, practically oblivious with the sudden distraction. You pull at the tie on the back of your top and bunch up the fabric as you stuff it between your lap, meeting Joel’s half-dumbstruck look as he tries to keep his eyes on the road but also can’t draw his eyes away from you, “what—I got it all over my shirt?”

Joel pulls to the side of the road in an instant, forcing the truck into park, “What are you playin’ at?”

You look at him with confusion, narrowing your eyes.

“What? Why did you pull over?”

“What are the chances of me findin’ you out here? On this road?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, “Hm?”

You feign innocence for a few seconds before you cave, smiling with a devilish glint, resting your chin in your hand as you lean against the center console, your bikini top doing nothing to cover the plump of your breasts as the press against the fabric.

“Well, I mean—I figured they were pretty likely but—“

“Is your car even out of gas?”

You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes tilting upwards in thought—truth…lie.

Joel seemed set on getting the truth. So, you give it to him.

“No, but I had you going, didn’t I?”

Joel is silent for too long and you raise your eyebrows in question before Joel reaches forward, tugging at the lever under his seat to send him scooting back.

“Come here,” It’s simple. An instruction.

But the look on his face—the intimidation shakes you to your core.

“Now, don’t back off,” Joel challenges, “it’s what you wanted, right?”

“As if you don’t want it either,” You counter, “you’ve been eye-fucking me since I got in your truck.”

Joel doesn’t even deny it, only waits. A simple nod of his head in a gesture for you to climb over and into his lap.

So, you do.

His hands immediately find your thighs and push up the denim skirt, your own hands resting at your sides as you scoot until your cunt is pressed up against the hard line of his zipper, the denim of his jeans so sensitive against your bare skin, feeling like all your senses were dialed up.

“We do this,” Joel starts, “there’s no going back. So, I need you to think if you really want this or—“

You surge forward, forcing the back of his head into the headrest as you swallow his words in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues clashing with the taste of sugary sweetness.

“Gotta be quick,” Joel tells you, his words lost on deaf ears as your hands drag down his front, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne, the ironic freshness despite having worked in the heat all day, “can I fuck you, baby? S’that too much to ask?”

You shake your head, peppering soft kisses against his lips, along his jaw, feeling his fingers reach for each tie at your hips and pull, his hand immediately sliding over your cunt, cupping you with the warmth of his palm.

“Get it out, baby—got my hands a little busy right now.”

The heat in his words makes your pussy clench, but your hands move even faster, dragging over the front of his jeans and pulling at the zipper swiftly and Joel lifts his hips enough to get them down his thighs but that was it, hissing at the instant your hand closes around his cock.

“You got a problem with me fuckin’ you like this?” Joel asks, a true gentleman, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t even know why I asked—you’ve been beggin’ for it.”

You tilt your head, smiling at him playfully before you lick at your fingers and taste the remaining sticky sugar before pressing them along the center of your cunt, mixed with the already growing slick—Joel nudges at your entrance as you watch, the tip of his cock notched against your hole and your pussy quivers with the anticipation as he drags his cock up, down, up, before sliding in all at once.

It’s slow, but intense. Your eyes close, brow drawing together as he pulls you further and further down his cock.

“Open,” He breathes out, “open your eyes and look at how you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You blink quickly, grabbing onto his bicep for purchase as you look down, his hands squeezing at the tops of your thighs as he admired, watching the way his cock has you on the edge of near tears—a mix of overwhelming emotion and intense sensation.

Joel pulls at your top gently and it falls without much struggle, he bunches the material up and tosses it aside with your bottoms, massaging the swell of your tits under his palms as you rock your hips slowly, hearing the soft grunt behind his closed lips as you lean into his touch.

Flicking his thumb over your nipples, he admires the way the nubs hardered, like he’d imagine earlier—he tries not to dwell on how you both got here, like it wasn’t years of built up tension finally crumbling underneath you both.

“Don’t be shy,” He tells you, “take whatever you need, baby.”

As does he, leaning forward to press his lips against your breast, tongue lapping over the pert nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, drawing a soft sigh out of you.

You lift your hips, in time with the hand of his own that drops to your side to quicken your pace, “Wanna take my time with you but we can’t,” Joel admits, “gotta get home.”

You nod, knowing he had his own responsibilities as a father—you don’t argue, placing your hands against the headrest and raising your hips nearly off of his cock before sinking back down quickly, keeping that pace for as long as your body will allow, shared breaths into each others mouth as he hands travel from your tits to your face, the largeness of his palms engulfing your face as he brings his lips to your mouth again, again, soft whispers of words you know he doesn’t mean. Promises you know are fleeting and easy to break.

You couldn’t be with him, but you would take whatever this is.

“Just like that, baby,” He murmurs, grunting harshly into your ear as you tuck your head into his neck, his hand buried into the hair at the back of your head as you sink down onto his cock desperately, crying out into the side of his throat as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting so deep inside of you it makes you clench, biting down gently on his skin, “I feel it, I felt it.”

You snake your hand between your legs, finding your clit quickly and rubbing over the swollen nub, and Joel can tell by the neediness in your tone, moans broken into his skin as he fucks into you, haphazardly scanning the road for any passing cars—but he knew this place was always deserted, a shitty road that no one ever took.

Not even you, but today—it wasn’t a coincidence.

“That’s right, baby,” Joel sighs, head thrown back as he groaned out, “gon’ let me use this pussy, yeah?”

You nod instinctively, willing to agree with whatever Joel asked.

“Wanna fill her up,” Joel admits, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, head tilted down slightly to meet your eyes, “that alright, darlin’?”

You nod again, but coherent this time.

He loosens the reins completely by then, practically hauling you over his shoulder as he pounds into you, encourage the hand on your clit as he squeezes a handful of your ass under his palm, marking the skin with a few firm slaps that has you moaning out loudly into the sacred space of the truck.

“Joel, please—“ You gasp, “I’m gonna—right there,”

“I know, baby. I know.” He says softly, but the strain in his voice is obvious, groaning through clenched teeth as your orgasm crests, warmth spreading as you gush over his cock, the momentary bliss of sensation making your forget where you were, suddenly wishing that this had been a little less impulsive, wondering how Joel would treat you within the walls of his bedroom, buried in the sheets of his bed.

When Joel comes, it’s intense. His hands squeezing at your waist hard, his hips jerking out of rhythm as he stills you, coming inside of you with a deep groan, pulling you in for a frenzied kiss, laughing at how your faces uncoordinatedly press together, your nose smushed against his own and he kisses at the tip of your own as you pull away, his hair messier than when you started from your insistent grabbing and pulling during the heat of your orgasm.

He looked a complete mess, actually.

“You okay?” He asks after a long pause, his hand rubbing at your back, cock still buried inside you on the side of an empty road.

“Mhm,” You nod drearily.

“Baby, you gotta drive home now.” He tells you and you know—it doesn’t make it any easier, though. “Don’t pull this shit again, alright?”

If he’d see it any other way you would have flinched, but it was soft and comforting—not a warning.

“You need somethin’, you come knockin’ on my door.”

And you know he means it.

“Okay, I will.”

“Swear,” That was an order, “I need to hear it.”

“I swear.” You reply quietly.

Joel doesn’t push you away, though.

If anything, he savors the few moments he has in this dreamy afterglow, a taste of what could be—but you both know never will.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #dbf!joel

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izzyy-stuff · 2 months ago

Note

heyy izzy! i don’t think ive ever sent in a request to you before but i absolutely love your work so i thought i’d send something in. could you please do a roommate!taehyun fic where he accidentally walks in on you while you’re in the shower but then decides to join you which then ends up in him fucking you while you’re pressed against the cold shower wall and one leg pulled over his shoulder so he can hit deep :)

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 - 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

roommate!taehyun x fem!reader

in which what originally was supposed to be just a quick shower to help him relax takes a different turn when he walks into the bathroom and sees you already in the shower, deciding to relieve his frustration differently than he originally intended to.

wc 2.5k

warnings shower sex, unprotected sex + creampie, vaginal fingering, tiny mention of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, pet names, softdom!taehyun, biting/marking

↪ izzy speaks... I can't believe tae had zero works until now... like that's insane. I'm glad I can finally show it to you though. The writing process for this was for someone reason extremely SLOW. Everyone thank serene for being my life saver again and helping me get through whatever writing block I was feeling while writing this.

Kang Taehyun must have been the safest choice for a roommate ever.

Unlike the other guys in your friend group, he was calm and knew when to shut up. Taehyun could cook, making your life a lot easier when he offered to make dinner as often as he could, and he was outside the dorm most of the time, too. If he wasn’t in the library studying after his lessons ended, you would find him in the gym, keeping in shape.

He barely went straight to your dorm after school, so you had learned to get comfortable during your alone time. From using your living room for studying and making a mess with your papers and study books all over the floor, which he would have usually pointed out and told you to keep a system, to walking around the apartment with just your underwear.

So it wasn’t unusual when you sat on the couch in your living room in just panties and an oversized shirt you found at the bottom of your closet while cleaning up last week. You were surprised when you found it, confident you’ve never bought nor worn that shirt. But as you put it on, pushing your thoughts aside as there was no possible way of it being someone else’s if it was in your closet, you realized it was more comfortable than the garments you knew you owned.

You have gone over the math formula hundreds of times and still feel like you see it for the first time every time your eyes land on it again. It doesn’t make sense. No matter how long you stare at it, the numbers and signs seem foreign.

You sigh, slamming the math book shut and spreading out on the couch as a sign of giving up. You would have to ask Taehyun about it after dinner. But for now, you had other things on your to-do list for the day.

Put your and Taehyun’s clothes into the washing machine (AND THANK HIM FOR DOING IT LAST TIME!!)

Wash up

Learn math

Call your mom

You mentally cross out math, pretending it never existed. Still, you know you will have to come back to it. To this day, you weren’t sure why you decided to take another math semester when you didn’t have to. You were naive when you listened to your parents and signed up for “the only important class you will need in the future.” You had to scoff every time now when you remembered your mother’s words, knowing you wouldn’t ever need the formulas you were learning.

Sighing, you get up from the couch and look around the living room. Looking at it now, you understand why Taehyun always wants you to have your work organized. It was a mess.

Your fingers run through your hair before you pick up a few of your books and put them aside in the corner of the table so that other people can still use it. It also reminds you that you should clean around the house with Taehyun soon.

But for now, there was the current to-do list you had to go through.

You grab Taehyun’s clothes basket from his room, as you did many times before, kicking the door behind you so it would close before continuing towards your shared bathroom.

Having a shared bathroom might have been the only disadvantage of living with Taehyun. You both tried to search for a bigger place so you could each get your own, but once you saw the prices, you both decided it was only a petite inconvenience.

It doesn’t take you long to sort out all of his and your clothes by colors, leaving Tae’s underwear in the basket for him to do later on his own. You don't mind doing his laundry, just like he doesn't mind doing yours, but there are still limits to what you are willing to do for him. Even though those lines sometimes seem blurry in your eyes.

You aren't sure when or how it happened, but lately, you've found yourself wanting to step over some of the lines you had set for yourself when you first decided to room with Taehyun.

Maybe it was because of how comfortable you got with each other after half a year of living together. Perhaps it was because Tae had become your best friend over the years you knew him. Or, more likely, it was actually because of the amount of times you had seen him shirtless.

“We are friends, Ma. You don’t have to worry about me getting pregnant or something just because I am rooming with a guy. And you have met him many times. You know how Tae is.” You remember the call you had with your mom after you moved in, rethinking all your words. You were so sure back then that nothing could ever happen between the two of you, but a small part of you always wished for something else.

You snap out of your thoughts, pressing the start button on your washing machine with a sigh. You step over the pile of white clothing you had prepared for the next wash, getting to the shower. You pull down your panties and shirt, hanging them on the empty peg beside your towel.

♡⸝⸝

Taehyun was too exhausted to go to the gym tonight. He had enough. From missing lunch because he lost track of time while reviewing for his upcoming exam to completely forgetting about an assignment due last night. He just wanted to go home and relax for a bit before he would have to fall into the endless circle of studying again.

So when he got through the door of your shared apartment, his first thought was to shower and go to sleep. He didn’t think much of what you were doing as he took down his shoes. Honestly, that was what he was the least worried about.

Taehyun shakes his head as his eyes land on your books on the table, but then a smile creeps up his lips. You did listen when he scolded you about making a mess, after all.

He looks around the apartment, trying to find you with his eyes. Eventually, his sight lands on your room, assuming you didn’t hear him coming in and were busy with your studies, so you didn’t come out to greet him. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He doesn’t even properly register the sound of the washing machine as he walks toward the bathroom. For the first time in a while, his mind is finally blank, making him relax as he opens the door.

Neither of you really realizes what’s going on until you drop down your shampoo, your eyes wide as you quickly try to cover your naked body upon noticing your roommate in the room.

Taehyun’s cheeks could be mistaken for a tomato as his eyes travel from the bottom of your body to your face, swallowing everything he wants to say before even opening his mouth, stuttering. “I– shit, fuck– uhm, sorry,” he blurts out quickly, turning around so he wouldn’t face you. He doesn’t leave, though.

You can’t hear your own breath, nor his, as you stare at his back, your mind, unlike Tae’s, clouded with thoughts. “I wanted to shower. I’m– I didn’t know you were in here,” he says, you think. You’re unsure if any of the words actually reach your ears or if it’s all just in your head. Maybe he is just a figment of your imagination, too. He isn’t real. He isn’t standing in the bathroom with his back turned to you.

“I’ve been so out of it today I just– I’m not sure what I am saying, to be honest. I didn’t mean to, though–”

You cut him off, your words echoing in his ears. Still, he doesn’t believe what he just heard. “What?” He asks, his boba eyes making you feel weak in the knees as he turns around to face you again. “You wanted to shower and relax your mind, right?” You repeat half your question, your hands slowly falling to your sides. Taehyun bites his bottom lip, fighting all his inner demons to keep his eyes on yours. “Want to join me then?”

You’re not sure what happens next. It’s all blurry in your mind. But the next thing you know, Taehyun’s hands are all over your body, “helping you to wash up,” as he said, but you both know that’s not what it really is when his hand just so innocently squeezes your breast.

Your breath shakes as you feel him groan against your shoulder, sending shivers through your body. You tilt your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips as he kisses your collarbone, his cold fingers playing with your nipples as if he had touched them thousands of times before, as if he wasn’t afraid at all of the sudden intimacy.

“Tae,” you breathe out, and he only hums in response, his lips on your neck. “Are you okay with this?” He asks carefully, making it almost impossible for you to tell him no. So you nod, whining when his fingers trace down from your chest to your legs, making their way to your clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles.

“S-shut up,” your voice shakes as you try to grind against his fingers, muffling your moan when he removes his hand. Your pussy clenches around nothing when your name leaves his lips, his kisses moving lower on your back until you hear him kneel behind you. You swallow a lump in your throat when his hands wrap around your thighs, the water drops on your back sending shivers through your body. “Mind bending over for me, sweetheart?”

It feels unreal. Your roommate’s head between your legs, eating you out as if you were supposed to be tonight’s dinner, was all a little too much. You weren’t sure how long you could last. “Wait– I’m–” you try to speak up but end up swallowing everything you wanted to say when his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You gasp, your hand slowly sliding down on the bathroom tiles as you begin to lose strength. You don’t think he notices, or at least he doesn’t do anything about it. His fingers pump into you so effortlessly, too. Somehow, it feels like he has been in your cunt many times before.

Your first orgasm of the night is on Taehyun’s fingers, preparing you for himself. “Doing so well,” he coos, slowly standing up. It takes no time for his lips to find your neck again, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. “‘S too much,” you whine, turning your head around to see him. His boba eyes are soft, full of love even, you’d dare to say.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes out when his eyes land on yours, immediately kissing you. You fall into the kiss, turning around to face him. Taehyun takes a step forward, making you press your back against the wet tiles. The water dripping between the two of you doesn’t seem to bother him a bit as he wraps your leg around his waist.

You are still kissing him when he aligns himself at your entrance, thrusting into you without a warning. You gasp, breaking the kiss. His lips chase after yours again, but you’re too busy trying to get used to him to kiss him back. “So good,” he praises you again, his mouth moving to your jaw and chin. You tilt your head to the side, trying to keep as quiet as possible as he thrusts into you again, starting slowly, with his eyes on yours to make sure you are okay.

You nod to him instinctively, and he thrusts into you right away, this time faster, harsher. It doesn’t take long for him to set a comfortable speed, and you can feel all his stress in each thrust. “I needed this,” he mumbles. “Needed you.”

It almost passes unnoticed by you, just some out-of-mind praises, but you catch onto it, and his words get stuck in your head. “N–Needed me?” Your question comes out as a broken moan, making him groan. “The whole day,” he agrees, only thrusting harder. “Everyone’s been getting on my nerves,” he explains. “Couldn’t wait to come home to you.”

The ticklish feeling in your stomach makes you uneasy. You’re not sure if it’s another orgasm building up or just an after-effect of his words. Honestly, it might be both. But before you can think about it properly, another thrust comes in, with a few mumbles about how perfect you are before you feel his speed slowing down again, letting you know he is reaching his limit, too.

It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before he cums inside you, both of you too into the moment to realize he should pull out. Taehyun’s head falls onto your shoulder, but he doesn’t stop holding your leg up, assuring himself he still feels you on his body. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathes out, and before you can answer, you feel his teeth digging into the skin on your shoulder.

You gasp, “What was that for?” He only hums in response, as if he had no idea what you were referring to. “A mark,” he finally mutters, making your eyes widen. “Wanted to mark you.” He says it so casually, while his hand slides between your bodies, circling your clit slowly again. You swallow a moan as his finger makes its way into your pussy again, feeling the mixture of his and your cum sliding down your thigh. You need another shower.

You stay still for a bit, his head resting on your shoulder and your leg wrapped around his waist while your fingers play with his hair to assure him you are still there, not saying anything.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself immediately. You keep your eyes on his naked body, rethinking your next moves. “I need your help with math,” you proclaim quietly like you normally would. “I’ll gladly help you,” he nods with a smile. So happy, and for what? He was never rude about it when you asked for his help, but it wasn’t like he would be excited, either. This time, however, he makes you question what’s going on in his mind.

“Here,” he says, the same smile still on his lips as he hands you your shirt and panties. “I didn’t know you were already wearing my stuff, but I can’t say I would complain,” he teases you, and it all finally clicks. Of course, that’s why you didn’t remember owning the shirt. It wasn’t yours in the first place. “Uhm–” you panic, trying to find a good excuse, but it’s already too late because all Taehyun can think about is the adorable blush on your cheeks.

TXT ⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆

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eclipseslayer · 3 months ago

Text

CURIOSITY GOT THE... DOG?

➭ LAIOS TOUDEN X HYBRID!F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ Day 2 of Kinktober: Accidental Stimulation

➭ SUMMARY: Laios gets curious about his fuzzy party member and reaches out to scratch her ears, however, he wasn't expecting a certain reaction when he goes to scratch behind her tail.

➭ CW: Breast play/nipple play, Laios slaps one of your boobs, semi-public sex, fingering, penetrative sex.

➭ WC: 2.8k

➭ 18+ ONLY! MDNI!

You're the newest member to the party, one that everyone found a bit strange, as you were unusual to see.

You're a hybrid—similar to Izutsumi in the sense that you're cursed—part dog, part human, except, you're human for the most part. You're far from a Kobold, as you're not quite on that level of "dog", as the only dog part of you are your ears, your tail, and your keen sense of smell and hearing. The rest of you is human.

And of course, Laios is the one to find you the most fascinating.

He's the one who's constantly behind you during trips, reaching out to curiously pet your ears or maybe feel your fluffy tail, but by the time he's close to touching you, Marcille bonks him on his head with her magic wooden staff.

Though, now, as you're asleep, Laios remains awake, with a curiosity to be satisfied.

He sits upright, looking down at you as you're curled up into a ball, sleeping peacefully, snoozing away.

His fists are tight as he battles a mental block. He knows that he shouldn't touch you. Senshi, Chilchuck, and Marcille remind him every day, and yet, there's this urge deep within him that needs to satisfy his curiosity, and he hates that he couldn't, at least until now.

He sighs, hanging his head, knowing he'll just have to reap the consequences later as he's now decided he's committed to touching you.

So, he reaches out, slowly, not wanting to wake you and brings his hand to your ears. He smiles softly at how cute you look, sleeping so peacefully, and slowly, he begins to scratch on your ears. He tilts his head, trying to see if he'll elicit some sort of reaction from you as his eyes search your body. His eyes widen when he sees you begin to whimper and kick in your sleep, just like a dog would. He smiles, feeling pleased that he's getting a reaction out of you, so he keeps scratching behind your ears.

What he didn't expect, though, was for you to suddenly wake up, as you shoot your eyes open and give him a side-eye, which has him quickly retracting his hand. His face flushes a bright red in the act of being caught.

"I-I'm sorry... I was only curious..." He mutters slowly, afraid you'd get angry at him.

Though, opposite to Laios' thoughts, you're definitely not angry, as those scratches were very nice. You hadn't actually been scratched like that before, as usually you'd tell people to "fuck off" before they'd even get close to you, but, now... you're curious. You want more.

"It's okay," you mumble, also hating that you're admitting to yourself that you love it so much. You pause, and you sigh. "You can continue."

Laios' eyes widen. "R-Really??"

You huff, and you sit up. You lean your head forward to let him continue scratching. "Yes. Now hurry up before I change my mind."

Laios smiles from ear to ear, so he eagerly reaches out and starts scratching behind your ears again. He hums contently to himself as he scratches you, and finds it joyously amusing when you start wagging your tail.

"Aww, look at how cute you are! You're wagging—"

"Don't. "

Your words are sharp, almost grumbling under your breath as you grip your sleeping bad from underneath you. You huff.

"Don't say I'm cute or any of that stuff... just... scratch me," you grumble, as Laios' praise had you dangerously close to getting even more happy.

Laios' eagerness seems to fade away when you knock aside his praise, but, nonetheless, he keeps scratching behind your ear.

You feel content with just the scratching of his hand behind your ear, wanting to shake your leg like a dog, but you opt just for wagging your tail.

Though, Laios gets a bit more curious as his hand moves downward, a bit deeper into your hair but still scratching behind your ear, and, for some reason, this makes your eyes widen and it makes your leg jolt as this new spot has unlocked something inside of you. You almost bark from the feeling, but you settle for a whimper.

"L-Laios..." You whimper his name and he raises an eyebrow.

"You okay?" He asks softly and you nod. In fact, you're more than okay.

"Scratch that spot again, please," you beg, which has Laios's eyes widening in shock. That was the last thing he expected from you, but, he's certainly not going to say no.

"Alright," he complies with ease and continues to scratch behind your ears at that spot, and this time, he's more surprised to see you begin to suddenly act more dog-ish as you start whimpering, and your tongue hangs out, and your eyes cross from how good those scratches feel.

He smirks to himself at the sight, just finding your behavior entirely too cute. He chuckles and he tilts his head as he sees your tail wagging against the fabric of your sleeping bag, and as you let out soft whimpers.

His curiosity aches once more about your tail, and so, while you're distracted with the ear scratch, he uses his other hand to reach down to the spot just above your tail, where your tail meets your behind and begins to scratch there also.

Shocked, your eyes widen at this and you whip your head around to look at Laios as he scratches that spot. That spot where you're so sensitive that it stimulates something inside of you. You swallow thickly and you look up at the blonde man who contently scratches behind your ear still, while his gaze is fixed on your moving tail, unaware that you're staring at him.

"I-I... Laios..." You whimper, and you feel your face heating up because of that continuous stimulation.

Laios' head perks up at your whimper and he looks over at you, wondering if you're alright.

"Everything alright?" He asks softly, and continues to scratch despite your whimpering.

You nod and you give him shy, puppy-dog eyes as Laios continues to scratch your behind, as that spot creates a familiar ache inside of you. One with need that gets you all wound up. You swallow thickly.

Laios seems to take notice of this as you look at him with eyes like that. His eyebrows raise and his scratching comes to a slow. He looks around at the other sleepers beside him and then turns back to you. He pulls his hand away from your behind and offers it to you.

"Follow me."

You take his hand, and the both of you get up, carefully stepping over the other sleepers as you make your way to a corner in the dungeon, away from the soundly sleeping party.

You sit on the ground and you look up at him with a pouting lip, and fuck, does it make Laios' cock throb. He swallows thickly.

"What's going on?" He asks, and he takes a knee so he's stooped down to your level.

You reach out and you paw at his leg. This behavior is most unexpected from you, as you were never one to display needs of help or affection, and yet, here you were, basically begging for it.

"Laios you... when you scratched me I... something in me... I don't know but I'm aching. I need something to help..." You murmur a bit pathetically, and you curse under your breath for showing signs of neediness.

Twitch. There it is again. His cock throbs and twitches, hardening as you paw at him. He swallows thickly, looking down at you as you beg for him to touch you. He lets out a shaky breath.

"I think..." He swallow thickly. "I think you need something. Something like..." He reaches down for your hand that's pawing at his knee and he places it onto his hard cock. His face flushes as he watches your eyes widen in response. "...think you need this?"

Embarrassed, your face flushes and you look down. You know it's what you need, and yet, you can hardly bring yourself to admit it. You squirm in your spot and you look up at him.

"Y-Yes please..." Your words are shy, and so cute as you give him those puppy-dog eyes again. He smiles softly.

"Okay, pup," he grins, and he feels a sense of achievement as his chest swells, knowing that he's finally going to fuck something that's not human, or at least, not completely. "Let's get these clothes off of you, yeah?"

You nod once again, and shyly, you raise your arms up as Laios slowly pulls your top off, and then he pulls your bottoms off.

His breath hitches in his throat when he sees you fully naked. He hums, pleased with himself that he's gotten you to this point, and he once again feels his hard cock throb in his pants. He groans and he leans down, towering over you as he presses you against the ground.

You gasp at the coldness of the floor hitting your back, earning a chuckle from Laios.

He leans down and begins to press kisses down your body, starting with your neck. He huffs as he takes in your scent, smelling that familiarity of a dog, which has his senses pleased.

He goes down your body, and his hands wander over it, trying to pinpoint the spots that has you the most sensitive.

Although, what he doesn't know is that everywhere where Laios is touching has your body on fire. You're a whimpering mess as his hands wander your body, alongside his kisses that continue a trek down your skin.

His hands soon glide over your breasts, and his fingers tweak at your nipples, making you whine loudly.

He chuckles upon finding your sensitive spot, but he winds a hand back and slaps your breast which has you whimpering. Your ears fall flat as you look up at him, wondering what went wrong.

"No, no, bad pup. Can't be loud, okay? Don't need to wake the others," he murmurs into your ear, and he then leans back down to press a kiss to your breast to soothe it.

Luckily, the stinging sensation of the slap quickly dies down as Laios' tongue laps over it, soothing it warmly. You hum and you whine as you start kicking your feet when his tongue glides over your nipple, eliciting a feeling of lightning shoot through your spine as that's yet another sensitive spot Laios has found.

Your hands grip his hair in return as his mouth sloppily covers your nipple in saliva, sucking oh-so-earnestly, lips puckering and suckling around that hardened peak.

You're writhing in pleasure as Laios' mouth is busy, meanwhile, his hand begins a journey down your body and slips between your thighs. He blushes when he feels that you're wet, knowing that his scratches made your body so accepting and willing.

He slips two fingers inside of you and sighs as they're accepted so willingly. He begins to pump and curl them inside of you, earning him soft moans from you, and your fingers grip his hair even harder.

"Laios..." You whisper his name in a soft whimper, and your hips buck against his hand.

He watches, amused and enthused that you're taking his fingers so well, and that your tail twitches with each curl of his fingers.

"So... wet..." He acknowledges it as if it was a statement that came from his curiosity. He wasn't even sure hybrids could even have sexual organs, or something along those lines, and yet, here you were, sucking in his fingers.

"Laios..." You repeat his name again, and you tug at his shirt. "Need you. In me."

Laios raises his eyebrows. That was the last thing he expected from you, as he just figured he'd finger-fuck you until you're satisfied, but, fuck. He's surely not going to say no.

He starts pulling down his pants, but before he can finish, he raises an eyebrow at you.

"You sure?"

"Yes!" You whisper-shout, murmuring under your breath. Your tail twitches and your ears flatten, frustrated.

Laios senses your impatience so he quickly pushes down his pants, leaving them around his ankles. He moves to hover over you, but, before he can completely situate himself, his eyes widen when he thinks of another way he can fuck you.

"Wait," he stops himself and sits back on his knees. "Get on all fours."

You look up at him and narrow your eyes at him. Oh he's having too much fun with this. You huff.

"Really? You want me in doggy?" You almost sound like you're in disbelief, but, then again, it's Laios. Of course he wants you in doggy.

He scratches the back of his head and lets out a weak chuckle. "Heh... can you blame me?"

You mumble and roll your eyes, but, regardless, you entertain him. You sit up and shift so you're on your knees and your palms are on the ground.

You look forward at the cobblestone wall while you hear Laios shift behind you. Your eyes widen when you feel a fat head line itself with you. You swallow thickly and you let out a choked gasp as you feel him slowly push inside you.

He's thick, and he stretches you so deliciously as you feel him cling to your walls, pushing deep inside of you until you feel the fatness of his tip press against your g-spot.

You moan as it curves so perfectly, hitting that spot so nicely. Your hands curls into fists and you bite your lip while you get used to the amazing stretch that Laios gives you.

"I'm going to move now... alright?" His voice is gentle, and his big, rough hands grip your hips. He doesn't even give you the chance to respond as he starts moving, chasing after what he wants.

With the first thrust, you let out a moan when you feel his hips and stomach meet your ass, his fat cock instantly meeting your pleasure spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.

Then, again, the second thrust, and the third, and the fourth and—your brain starts to go numb as you take his cock, his pace quickly picks up and the sound of his stomach hitting your ass fills the room. At this point, you don't even care if the others hear you and Laios. His cock feels way too good to care about the other party members.

He grips your hips firmly and he mutters curses under his breath while he moves in and out. Your pussy feels so good around him, so tight and needy as it squelches, singing it's songs of praise to Laios, telling him how good he feels inside of you. He grunts, and his thick hands grip your hips again, tighter this time, and he picks up his pace.

It's harder, harsher, and you can't suddenly seem to keep up. You whine and your ears twitch every which way, and so does your tail as you feel your senses start to go haywire.

Your sense of smell, your hearing, your vision, hell even your taste gets lost as your head goes fuzzy from taking Laios so deep within you.

"Hnnnghhh... Laios!" You moan out, and you hear him let out a dry laugh. You know he has to be trying to keep himself together from cumming so quickly, and honestly, you are too.

Flames are being lit within your stomach, kindling as Laios keeps thrusting, meeting that spot that creates sparks, thus making the flame only grow.

It's sickening, almost, for how quickly the flame in the furnace grows, and you have to burg your nails into your palms to keep yourself in reality, but that pain is short lived when it's overpowered by the pleasure that Laios is giving you.

"L-Laios..." You're almost there, you can feel it. You're hot, you're sticky, and your pussy is squelching so loudly from being so wet. "I'm..."

Laios feels your wet pussy tightens around his cock and he groans.

"Fuck, so am I," he grunts, and he starts breathing heavily.

Laios picks up the pace again. It's in short, quick bursts that have you moaning in every breath. Almost. You're almost there. Your stomach, so tight, so, so, so tight—

"Aaah!!"

Your moan rips through the air, soon followed by Laios' own moan. Your legs shake and your head falls dizzy as you fall against the cold, hard floor of the dungeon, and Laios quickly pulls out, as his hot seed pours out of him and leaks onto your ass, and onto your tail.

A long moment of heavy breaths and sighs are exchanged between the two of you as you try to collect yourselves.

Soon, Laios brings a hand to your ass and wipes up all of his mess.

"Sorry about uh... scratching that spot..." He apologizes softly.

You raise an eyebrow, and you turn your face to look at him. You give him a lazy smile and you giggle.

"Don't be sorry... I happened to like it."

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #delicious in dungeon smut #dungeon meshi smut #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #laios touden smut #laios smut #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #laios touden x you #laios x you #🌑 my fics

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urfavlarry · 8 months ago

Note

How are you? I just read the cigarettes after sex fic and I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3 Can I request a Joost Klein x fem!reader that's opposite of his style? Like opposites attract :3

The devil with his angel

Joost Klein x fem!reader

summary: readers style is a bit more feminine and usually wear lighter colours, unlike joost who had a masculine, street wear type of style. you were the prime example of the saying ‘opposites attract’

a/n: reader has a slightly specified outfit, hope thats alright<3

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

— You and Joost have been dating for a few months in secret, wanting some privacy before revealing anything to the public. It was more for you to build your relationship more and have your peace and quiet for some time, knowing your fans could get a bit hectic. You loved each other dearly, you two filled each other’s empty spaces, you fit together like an ancient puzzle basically soulmates.

In the present, you were currently at Joosts concert, you being on the opposite side of the barrier blocking the fans from rushing to the stage giving you your space. You were smiling, singing along to his songs. You only started learning dutch when you started dating Joost to show your dedication to this relationship and how much he meant to you, and so you could support him during his concerts like you were doing now. You didn’t fit in the crowd however at all, everyone wearing more darker colours, or something not that bright meanwhile you were here in a floral dress, some white stockings, mary janes and some accessories. You stood out like a black sheep, which was ironic since you were the only one NOT wearing black. You stood closer to the stage, taking some photos of Joost on your polaroid camera he got you on your birthday. You smiled, everyone would be able to tell you were love struck if your back wasn’t facing them.

Joost was in the middle of playing his song ´Droom Groot’ , it was clear he loved performing the atmosphere of his concerts were never dull, always some kind of emotions were being felt during his concerts. The end of the song was nearing, the “Yes, yes, ladies and gentlemen this was Joost Klein with his hit single ´Dome Groot’ “ You smiled softly, Joost looking down at you with a smile before crouching and cupping your cheek in his hand, giving you a kiss on the lips. Your eyes went wide and your cheeks got hotter, the crowd screaming and whistling, even some gasps were heard. It really was a strange sight, you really were polar opposites.

The next day the media went crazy. You were on every media, trending somewhere in the tops 10s. You scrolled through all the articles, some fans were beyond excited and celebrated the union of their two favourite artists, while others were dumbfounded. They had no idea how such polar opposittes could have found their way to each other. Joost came out the shower, towel loosely tied on his hips as he dried his hair. He came towards you and looked at your phone. “How bad is it?” He asks, a smile on his face. You return his smile, looking up at him. “It’s a mix of ‘oh my god i’m so happy for them’ and ‘how are they even together’ but that was more than expected.” You say and he nods kissing your forehead. “Yeah, but i’m glad I don’t have to hide my love for you anymore.”

Despite the media going crazy, you two embraced your public relationship, attending events together and Joost couldn’t help to always post something about you somewhere, your styles making you guys even more magnetic. Fans slowly started to see the connection between you two, acceptance growing more by the day. One time you both had to speak up about your relationship a bit more, since death threats started to be thrown into your inboxes left and right.

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Joost Klein

@joostklein✓

It’s funny how you all see our styles and think we’re two worlds apart. Aside our styles were just two people who have passion for music and love each other.

Liked by bambiethug, {yourusername} and 2,082,096 others

user79107 and 568K others commented

bambiethug: you two are such sweethearts!! sending you all the love and protection from evil<3

user6618990: JOOST NOO MY HUSBAND

fucktheebu replied to user6618990: grow up you’re like 12

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{your nickname}

@{yourusername} ✓

I get we have different styles but giving us death threats? Wow..

You don’t see more then what we put on the media, you don’t know what our relationship is like behind closed doors. We may have different styles but we love each other and have the same passion for music, we basically balance each other out in our own way. Sending love to everyone that supported us xx

Liked by joostklein, user97741 and 1,980,762 others

hihixlovers and 567K others commented

lolianx: ❤️❤️ love your dynamic fr

apsondabluebirdha: tell them!!

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After that the whole thing calmed down. You two lived your lives more peacefully and you didn’t have to hide anymore. The both of you made a song together, tours sold out and your albums too. It was nice but it did add some stress to your career. You managed it all together always being there for one another despite your slight differences. You cherished every moment together, whether it was a simple night out, cooking together, singing silly songs together or just cuddling and watching a movie, all of it was just perfect.

You were currently in prague, performing a concert there together. You were the opener of Joosts concerts, since you didn’t really have the finances to two different tours so you decided on being the opener which you were more than happy to do.

You sat in a café, admiring the view of prague and also lost in thought. Joost was talking about the upcomig concerts, talking about the new places he wanted to see. He noticed your dazed state and stopped talking, putting a hand on yours as if to silently as if you’re okay. “Just thinking.” You say and he raises a brow; “About?” He pries and you chuckle softly. “I mean, do you ever think about how unlikely this is? Us, I mean.” You ask he he thinks for a moment, gathering his thought before soeaking up; “All the time. And every single time I realize how lucky I am to have you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I appreciate you.” You smiled, heart full of his enduring words. “Same here Joost, same here.”

About half a year later, your one year anniversary came. You were standing on stage, just finishing a song you wrote together just a few months ago. Cheers were heard throughout the crowd, signs with words like “We love you!” “You saved me.” “We’re proud of you.” were held high in the air, your heart melting. Realisation hit you like a truck as Joost picked you up and spinned you around, smiling wildly. He put you down, resting his forehead against yours, sweat dripping down from all the jumping around you’ve done during this concert. You smiles lovingly, holding his hands, fingers interwined. “We did it Joost.” “Yeah, we did.” In that moment you knew you found the right person. You realised you wanted to spend the rest of your days on this earth with this man, in his embrace, in his presence. Together you created beautiful and unforgettable memories that defied expectations, showing that sometimes, the most gorgeous harmonies come from the most unexpected places.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#joost klein x y/n #joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein requests #stand with joost #joostice #justice for joost #free joost #joost #eurovision #eurovision x reader #eurovision fanfiction #female reader #x fem!reader #fem!driver #fluff

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minniesmutt · 6 months ago

Text

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SET IN 2010S, COLLEGE AU, POPULAR!LINO, PHOTOGRAPHER!READER, SWITCH!LEE KNOW, SWITCH!READER, NO AGE IS GIVEN BUT THEY ARE WRITTEN TO BE IN THEIR JUNIOR AND SENIOR YEAR, ALCOHOL, OVERTHINKING, ANXIETY, HINTED INSECURITIES BUT NOTHING IS DESCRIBED, FOOD, ASS GRABBING, PET NAMES, BITING, ORAL (F. REC), MUTUAL MASTURBATION, BOOB PLAY, MARKING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CUMSHOT, PHOTOS, PROTECTED SEX, SLIGHT OVER STIM, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 8.4K ☾ ━━━ COMMISSIONED WORK! ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

Accepted. One of the best things Y/n had read in a long time. Getting accepted into her top choice. She had applied on a whim, not thinking she would get in. When the letter came she was sure she was rejected. Especially since the art program was fairly good at the school and some had told her it was harder to get into. But here she was two years later. Now in her junior year and one of the top students in the program. Even if that meant sacrificing her social life for it.

The extent of Y/n’s interactions with her schoolmates was limited to projects. Pairing up with a couple of people in class and photographing the other majors with their permission. The campus itself was the perfect backdrop for every photo. Even out of class, she was photographing everything, getting people in the background too, just wanting to document the experience to show her family when she visited them.

Adjusting to not living with her family was a weird experience. Her family called and texted her every day for the first few months of her freshman year. Just making sure she was settling in alright. She wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, keeping to herself. So it was natural for her family to worry about her being on her own. Was it anxiety-inducing at first? Yes. But she’d settled in pretty well after a while.

College parties were never really her thing either. She’d focused on her projects and classes and voluntarily chose to miss other aspects of her college experience. Even with her family telling her it was okay to post once in a while. Parties, dating, making friends, all that she put aside.

But there was always a bug that crawled out of the woodwork and bit. And this one had to be around Halloween. Hyunjin— someone she was acquainted with from their sharing school art program — had invited her to his housemate's Halloween party. Probably since he was inviting everyone else in the class and didn’t want her to feel excluded.

At the time she just offered him a smile and said okay. Not planning on going at the time, maybe just staying in and watching horror movies. Her usual plans always seemed to work but for some reason, she decided to go. Maybe make a few friends too.

Y/n managed to find a costume that wasn’t super skimpy but was still cute enough to pass. She knew no one really took the holiday seriously in their early adult years and didn’t want to stand out too much. She got dressed the night of the party and walked down to the house the party was at. It wasn’t too far from the campus dormitories. Some people were out in front of the house whenever she walked up.

Anxiety about walking into a new place filled her. Especially with how packed it was. All the bodies just made the room even more hot too. She weaved her way through her crowd of drunk college students, not trying to be rude or anything. The bass from the speakers thumped against her skull as she made her way to the kitchen. Maybe a drink would calm her nerves a bit.

She managed to break free from the bodies and get to the alcohol. Red cups thrown about on the counter. She found the clean stack and searched for liquor and mixers. Debating the large variety the house had.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice showed over the music

She tore her gaze away from the alcohol and was met with a fit about her age. She had zero clue who he was in all honesty.

“No, just debating what sounds good right now,” She replied, still having to yell over the music

“I’m Jisung,” the guy introduced himself, holding his hand out to her

“I’m Y/n,” she shook his hand and ordered a small smile. Now she kind of knew one person here.

“I haven’t seen you around before.”

“This is not really my scene,” Y/n laughed as she grabbed a bottle of tequila. “I usually just keep to myself.”

“I feel it. This whole party was honestly my roommate's idea. I can’t escape if I wanted to,” Jisung laughed. “What’s your major?”

“I’m an art major, focusing on photography,” Y/n told him

“That’s cool! I’m a music major.”

It felt nice having someone to talk to here. Y/n began wondering what she was missing out on the last couple of years. She and Jisung talked for a few more moments till Jisung got dragged off and promised to come back in a few minutes. Y/n just nodded and sipped her drink. She stood off to the side, out of other people’s way. Waiting for her new friend to come back. She eventually started wandering through the party. Getting stopped and made some small talk with her classmates, making her way back to the kitchen for another drink when she finished hers. A couple more times throughout the night she talked to Jisung again and met a couple of his friends— Felix and Chan.

She rarely was ever drunk. She had a drink here and there. Had one or two when she went out with family members for dinner or something. Maybe it was the fact it did help ease her anxiety about the whole situation a bit. She felt more outgoing in the moment. Especially when she saw someone she had a small crush on.

Minho was popular— not that he wanted to be. He was very humble about his popularity. He was ninety percent sure it was because of his looks and maybe his skill as a dancer. All night— didn’t matter if he was talking with his friends or not— he’d been having drunk girls try and get at him. He was used to it but their level of intoxicity and their very outgoing way of trying to get him to bed was annoying him. He’d be happy if he could lock himself in his room for the night.

But here he was, talking with Changbin as yet another girl was approaching both of them. He could barely hear her over the music anyway but he mostly tuned out what he could. Telling his friend he was going to get another drink and then walking off. Not giving the drunk girl a chance to follow him.

Minho weaved his way through the crowd. Weaving between bodies since no one knew how to keep a path clear for others. Accidentally pumped a bit too hard into one girl as a guy took a step back into him.

“Sorry,” Minho said to the girl, having wrapped an arm around her so she didn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Y/n said, suddenly every bit of her introverted self coming out again.

“You sure?” Minho asked

“Yes. Sorry!” Y/n replied, face feeling hot as his arm fell from her side, “I’m—”

She couldn’t do much to introduce herself when Minho was already walking off. She sighed and sipped her drink. Maybe a couple more drinks and she could try again. Maybe she should just save herself the embarrassment and go home. She could tell he wasn’t in the mood even if she had a few drinks in her system.

“Why the sad face?” Jisung’s voice came from next to her. Scaring her a bit

“Party is starting to be too much,” Y/n replied

“Hang here. I’ll grab you some water,” Jisung told her.

“Thanks…” Y/n said as he went off to the kitchen after grabbing her cup of alcohol from her.

Y/n stood in her spot, waiting for her new friend to come back. Jisung came back after a few minutes and handed her a bottle of water, opening the cap for her and handing it to her.

“Want to get some air too? I know it’s hot in here.”

“Yes please,” Y/n said and sipped the cold water.

Jisung led her out to the front yard and sat with her on a couple of unoccupied chairs. The cold air felt good after being in a stuffy house for so long. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Y/n smiled

“No problem. I know it can all be too much sometimes,” Jisung replied. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you more. I can get home by myself. I live on campus anyways.”

“I’m not letting you walk back to campus this late!” Jisung protested, “Let me find one of my friends and let them know where I’m going.”

Before Y/n could say anything else, Jisung had already disappeared back into the house. She felt bad just getting up and leaving like she had originally planned. Instead, she patiently waited and sipped her water. Staying to get cold in the material of the costume.

Jisung came out of the house a few moments later. He helped her up and the two started walking down the street together. Y/n wrapped her arms around her to provide warmth from the autumn air.

“Are you cold?” Jisung asked

“I’ll be fine. It’s a short walk to the campus dormitory.”

“I should have grabbed a jacket when I went inside.”

“It’s fine. You walking me back is more than enough.”

The walk was mostly silent. The occasional talk about their classes and their day-to-day lives filled the night.

“Wait. You’ve been here for two years and haven’t made a single friend?” Jisung asked

“I didn’t have time to socialize. I honestly wasn’t planning to go to the party anyways…”

“Well, we’re friends now! Now you have one. Though I’m sure Felix considers you a friend. Even if you guys had one conversation tonight, he’ll still count it! And don’t you and Hyunjin in the art program together?”

“Yeah. I don’t really talk to people. I just do my work and if I'm in a group protection I'm still pretty quiet. Though I’m sure I’ve photographed everyone on campus at some point or another.”

“Ooh! You should show me your photos sometime! I want to see your work!” Jisung rambled

It felt nice to have somewhat of a friend now. Jisung made sure to walk her up to her dorm room and they two exchanged numbers as well before he started his walk back home and Y/n went into her dorm. She took a shower and put on her pajamas before crawling into bed.

Y/n carried on her day-to-day life after the Halloween party. Going to class, focusing on her assignments, and taking photos in the quad. Just now Jisung seemed to be popping up randomly.

“What are you taking photos of?” Jisung asked, sneaking up behind her

“Jesus!” Y/n half-yelled

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized

“It’s fine. Just not used to it.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just taking photos. I like capturing the campus scenery.” Y/n shrugged

“Can I see?”

“Sure…” Y/n hadn’t shown anyone except her teachers her photos before.

Y/n opened her camera’s library and turned the screen to him. Jisung took the camera from her hands and scrolled through the photos.

“I’m not a professional and barely know the first thing about pro photography but these are great!” Jisung complimented

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled, feeling proud of her work at that moment

“Oh! You have some of the dance crew!”

“Yeah. I joined the school paper on a whim this year and they have me photographing sports…”

“That’s why Felix said he recognized you at the party. Oh, there he is!”

Jisung spent the next few moments trying to find all the photos she had taken of his friend in her camera. “You even got good photos of Minho.”

“You know Minho?”

“Yeah. We share a room at the house.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide for a moment as she processed the information. She had somehow befriended one of her crush’s friends, let alone his roommate. Jisung seemed oblivious to her reaction. He handed her camera back to her with a smile. “You should come to my music group’s next performance and take photos of us! I’m sure Chan and Changbin would love it too!”

“Yeah. Just let me know when,” Y/n smiled

“I’ll text you! I’ve got to run to class before I’m late!”

Jisung took off before she could do anything. She just agreed to whatever he said, not fully processing it. She shook her head and looked at the time. She was done with her classes for the day but wasn’t quite ready to go back to her dorm. She sighed and went to the library to study for some of her classes.

She sat quietly at one of the library tables. Textbooks open as she scanned through and wrote down the important information she needed for her class. Her headphones were in as she listened to her music. The background noise helping keep her focused on her work.

Minho was also stuck in the library. Working on some homework. Anything was better than doing said work at home with seven other people to interrupt his peace. The campus library had been his safe space since he started and decided to get a house with his seven friends. Now he was in his last year of college and could get away from all this soon.

He wasn’t getting away from Jisung though. Even in the quiet library, he wasn’t safe from his best friend.

“There you are,” Jisung quietly said and took a seat next to his friend.

“I need a better hiding spot,” Minho sarcastically told his friend

“You’re in a better mood.”

“I’m not getting hounded today.”

“Explains a lot.” Jisung shrugged and took out his homework

The two fell into silence until Jisung became a bit bored and poked his friend. It was soon stopped by a glare and a quick apology. The younger one laid his head on the table and then looked around the library. “Do you know Y/n?” Jisung suddenly asked

“Who?” Minho asked

“She’s in the school paper. She’s photographed the dance team. Figured you might have met her, Felix has.”

“Are you comparing me to Felix?” Minho asked

“No, but I was curious. She doesn’t have many friends. I invited her to the next 3RACHA performance.”

“You’re trying to get her more friends, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been the kid with no friends before so I kind of feel bad.”

“I remember when you were trying to fight everyone in the house for the smallest things.”

“I’m a changed man.”

“Because of Chan.”

Jisung didn’t disagree with him as Minho finished up his homework. Jisung had given up on finishing his and took out his phone. Replying to some text messages he had. Y/n was one of the people he had texted.

Jisung: 3Racha has a performance this weekend! It’s at Miroh!

Y/n looked at the text message on her screen. She figured out what Jisung was attempting to do since the Halloween party and claimed they were friends. She was grateful he was trying to break her out of her shell and she couldn’t exactly come up with an excuse either. She had also processed that he had asked her to photograph them at their performance earlier in the day. And she agreed to it.

Y/n: Where’s that at? :’( Jisung: You haven’t been to Miroh before?? Y/n: No. I don’t have friends and I’m terrified of going places by myself Jisung: How about I pick you up then? You can ride with me and my friends then hang out with them while I’m up on stage Y/n: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude… Jisung: Yeah! The guys won’t mind. Oh! Since you’re in the library, come over and meet Minho! He’ll be there too so you won’t just have Felix when me, chan and changbin are on stage Y/n: How do you know I’m in the library?? Jisung: I came in to annoy Minho and try and do homework and saw you when I walked in. You had your headphones on so I didn’t say anything Y/n: oh

Y/n had finished her work and was just packing up when she saw the message from Jisung. She finished packing her things up when she looked around for Jisung. Seeing him standing at a table with Minho. After the party and her run-in with the dancer, she wasn’t hopeful it would go well. She could barely even think of just getting up and leaving when the music major spotted her and made his way over to her. His friend following not far behind

“Did you just finish?” Jisung asked her

“Yeah. Did you even work or just talk to people?”

“Bit of both,” Jisung shrugged as the dancer walked up behind him, “This is Minho. Min, this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Y/n timidly said

“Hey,” Minho greeted back

Minho recognized her from the Halloween party. He had seen her in the dance studio with a camera a couple of times. He just never knew her name.

The trio walked out of the library together and Y/n said goodbye to the two and made her way back to her dorm hall. The two boys went off to head back to their home. Jisung filled in Minho that they were picking up Y/n and giving her a ride to Miroh over the weekend. The older man nodded in agreement.

When the day of the performance came Y/n offered to meet Jisung at his house so it was one less stop for the group. At first, Jisung protested on her walking down but she told him she was already on her way down. She was a bit nervous about the whole outing so the walk helped clear her head a bit. By the time she got to the house the group was outside already, Jisung introduced her to everyone she didn’t know yet before the group went back to their previous discussion of the car assignments, and how they were getting nine people there.

“Take three cars, three people in each car,” Chan said which the guys all seemed to agree with

It was decided Chan, Minho, and Hyunjin would drive/be DDs for the group. Seungmin and Changbin rode with Chan. Jeongin and Felix took Hyunjin’s car while Han and Y/n were with Minho. Y/n took the backseat of the car while Minho and Jisung were in the front. The bar was about a twenty-minute drive from the house. Y/n stayed pretty quiet in the back of the car while music played. The two friends in the front talked a little and tried including Y/n. She appreciated it and it helped her nerves a little till they finally got to the bar.

The group managed to find parking spots pretty close together and headed into the bar. The rap group still had some time before they had to perform. A few of the guys took orders and grabbed some drinks from the bar while the others found a couple of tables and pushed them together. Minho had pulled a seat out for Y/n and motioned for her to sit. Hesitantly she sat down with the rest of the group.

The performers themselves talked about their performance as the rest of the group came back with drinks. Making sure everyone got the right drink. Everyone settled in with their drinks and waited for the performance to start.

Y/n felt out of place amongst the friends, even when they did include her in the conversation. Her life just seemed boring compared to the others. They all had some interesting lives or things that were big going on with their majors. 3Racha was about to perform, the dance members— Minho, Felix, and Hyunjin (whom she learned only minored in the art program and was a dance major)— had some competitions for the school and outside of the school coming up. Seungmin— a law major— had won another debate and Jeongin— an education major— was going to be working at a daycare over the summer. Y/n felt like she had nothing going on. Just some photos no one would probably look at.

As soon as the boys were called to the stage, Y/n grabbed her camera from her bag and made sure all her settings were good. “Are you going up to the stage?” Minho asked next to her

�� “Yeah. If it’s not too crowded,” Y/n said

“Do you want me to go with you?” Minho questioned

“Oh! We should all go up!” Felix suggested

“They can feel our support from back here,” Seungmin interjected

“Then stay here,” Hyunjin said

Jeongin and Seungmin stayed at the tables while she, Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin went up to the stage. Felix and Hyunjin mainly went to be the hype men for their friends while Minho stayed close to Y/n so no one got in the way of the photos. Y/n felt more anxious with Minho standing close by. She had barely talked to him since his demeanor at the Halloween party.

She did her best not to let it get to her as she got her photos. She didn’t know what to expect from the music group. She had heard the name 3Racha before around campus but seeing them perform was a different scenario. She did enjoy the music and got some pretty good shots from the performance. She only saw how good they were when she sat back at the table after the show.

The group congratulated them on the show. Jisung asked to see the photos as soon as she sat down with them. Y/n let him go through them and show them around the table. She felt flustered when everyone gave her props for her work, even though it wasn’t edited yet.

The group stayed for a few more hours at the bar, enjoying the other performances and some drinks. They all ended up calling it a night. Minho and Jisung took Y/n back to the campus dorms before going back to their home

“What do you think of Y/n?” Jisung asked his roommate on the drive back

“I don’t think she likes me very much,” Minho answered

“You probably scare her.”

“You know, one day you might not wake up.”

Minho knew she was shy from what Jisung had told him and what he had observed. He knew he could be a little intimidating at times but he felt bad he had given her that impression.

Jisung on the other hand was curious. Pulling his phone from his pocket and texting his new friend.

Jisung: Do you like Minho? Y/n: What?? Jisung: Like as a friend. He thinks you’re scared of him Y/n: oh Yeah? Idk? Jisung: ?? Y/n: He bumped into me at the Halloween party before you got me water. He seemed kind of annoyed when I went to introduce myself so I didn’t think he liked me very much… Which I don’t expect him to. Ik he’s popular and there are more interesting people than me Jisung: oh, he was annoyed the whole party. I promise it wasn’t bc of you. If anything it was all the drunk girls trying to sleep with him Y/n: idk :( I had a few drinks too… maybe he just saw another drunk girl then… Jisung: you were not THAT drunk. You could still walk and form words lol Y/n: I still think he doesn’t like me very much Jisung: and he thinks you don’t like him very much Y/n: I don’t! He just makes me a bit nervous Jisung: oh, you like like min ;) Y/n: so does every girl on campus :( I’m not special

Jisung knew something would come about. If someone didn’t like Minho, he didn’t care much. So Jisung knew his friends' thoughts and feelings the moment he said that Y/n didn’t seem to like him very much. He didn’t that night plotting.

No matter how much plotting he did, he knew his friends were idiots. He’d do everything but lock them in a room together. He told the rest of the house about Y/n’s lack of friends and what he suspected was anxiety about making them but he wasn’t sure.

The group always offered to include her in things and sometimes she did accept the offers. Over time she started to feel like more of a friend to them and less of an intrusion. She still kept quiet about ninety percent of the time though.

She’d given 3Racha the photos she had taken, fully edited, and let them do what they wanted with them. Jisung told her a lot of people on campus loved the photos when they put them on their social media which gave her somewhat of an ego for a few moments.

Minho didn’t know exactly what Jisung was plotting but he did know his friend had been acting differently since the day after their performance. He could corner him and ask but he couldn’t complain too much now.

He’d refuse to admit it to anyone— except maybe Chan — but he was glad Jisung was bringing Y/n around more. He thought she was cute when his younger friend had officially introduced them in the library. He had barely spared her much of a glance at the party. Maybe if he did she wouldn’t be too scared of him. But now, after a few months, that dislike or whatever was disappearing.

He’d catch her around campus and go out of his way to say hi and ask her about her day. Minho appreciated that she didn’t try and flirt with him like the rest of the girls on campus. He could be himself.

Currently, he was in the school's quad with her. He spotted her looking at her camera and chose to keep her company.

“What are you taking photos of?” He asked as he walked up and took a seat next to her on the bench

Y/n offered him a smile, “Whatever interests me today.”

“So the usual?” he joked

“Pretty much.” Y/n agreed

Minho smiled as she got up and stepped a few feet away, spotting something to photograph. Minho took out his phone after a few moments and responded to a few messages he had disregarded earlier. Y/n was taking photos of some of the flowers that were planted. She turned around once she snapped a few and looked at Minho.

He seemed ignorant to her turning around and the sun was hitting all his angles perfectly. She focused her lens on him and snapped a couple of photos. Slowly Minho looked up at her, hearing the camera shutter as she took the photos.

“When did I become your model?” Minho asked as she pulled away from the viewfinder

“You’ve been my model before,” Y/n defended

“I don’t think I’m dancing right now,” Minho told her

“No, but it was a good photo opportunity.”

“Let me see.”

Y/n walked back to him and handed him the camera. Minho took the camera and looked through the photos she had taken of him before getting out of the photos and going back to the camera. He sat up, held up the viewfinder, and snapped a photo before Y/n realized what he was doing. Once she processed it while he snapped a few more, she moved to grab the camera from him.

“Hey!” Y/n said grabbing her camera.

Minho chuckled as she took her seat back next to him. “Let me see my work,” he said between laughs

“No,” Y/n said as she went to look over at the photos. Minho just looked over her shoulder before she could delete the photos.

“I did a good job,” Minho said. “You look good too. Very photographic.”

“Don’t lie,” Y/n grumbled as she deleted the photos and tried to hide her flushed face from him

“I’m not lying,” Minho told her. “You look good. In and out of the photos.”

Y/n hesitated to delete the last photo. Minho did take a good photo of her. She couldn’t deny that.

“What are you doing later?” Minho asked, watching her hesitate, and stopped looking over her shoulder.

“Probably nothing. Maybe homework,” Y/n answered and shut her camera off. Packing it up in her camera bag

“Do you want to get takeout and come over instead? I can kick Ji out.”

Y/n turned to look at him. Ninety-nine percent sure she was hallucinating what he just said. “Huh?” she asked

“Do you want to come over after you’re last class? Order food or I can cook,” Minho repeated

“I— just us?”

“I mean, I’m sure someone else will be at the house but ideally, yeah. Just us.”

“Like, like a date?” Y/n asked, scared but hopeful at the same time

“Yeah.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re out of my league?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Minho smirked, “Come over for dinner. I’ll kick the others out of the house.”

“O-okay,” Y/n agreed

“When’s your last class?”

“I don’t have any more classes. I have all morning classes.”

“Come on. We can go shopping for ingredients.” Minho stood and adjusted the bag on his shoulder

“I don’t want to make you cook,” Y/n closed up her bag and stood with him, gathering the rest of her things.

“I like cooking. Come on,” Minho said

Y/n walked with him to the parking lot. Minho opened the door for her before getting in his side of the car. The two drove down to the supermarket while Minho questioned her on what she wanted to eat.

She was wondering why Lee Minho would ask her out. Or offer to cook for her. Her brain seemed to just go into autopilot for responses. In the store, she stayed close to the dancer. She was trying to stay out of other people’s way and helping with grabbing ingredients. Even if he protested she didn’t need to. It was the least she could do.

When they checked out, Y/n felt more at ease as they drove back to the house. Minho had made sure to text his friends to either not corner them or not come home. They even seemed a bit shocked at this development but ultimately Chan offered to take the other six out for dinner which the younger ones graciously accepted.

“Do you want any help?” Y/n asked after they— mostly Minho— carried in their shopping bags from the car and set them on the counter.

“No. I got it covered,” Minho said and took his bag to his room. Y/n quietly sat at the bar and took out the homework she had planned to do.

Minho came back after a few moments to find her doing the work he took her away from. He smiled to himself as he got to work. Washing his hands and starting to cook. He would occasionally look over at her to check on her and ask her how her work was going.

Y/n was honestly barely focusing on her work— she’d done most of it earlier anyway. She was watching Minho cook. He seemed a natural in the kitchen. Moved with ease, just like he was dancing.

“How come you didn’t go to culinary school?” Y/n asked

“Dance is what I’m passionate about. Cooking is just something I like doing for my friends. Plus I’m good at it.”

“How good?” Y/n asked

“You’ll see,” Minho smiled back at her, “Finish your homework. You won’t graduate if you don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Y/n told him

“Homework.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes and turned back to her homework while he cooked. Both taking moments to watch the other one work. Y/n finished up her last boy off work and put away her things. Patiently waiting for Minho to finish, not knowing what to do now.

She just admired him working. He moved around the kitchen with ease, even when he plated the food. Y/n smiled as he set the food in front of her and thanked him. Minho smiled and sat down next to her at the bar. Y/n took a bite of the food and looked at him. “You should be a chef!” Y/n exclaimed

Minho just smiled as he started eating. Y/n enjoyed probably the best meal she had had since she left home for college. She felt more relaxed than ever around Minho. She had forgotten for a moment that this was technically a date. It just felt natural to hang out with him now. Even if he didn’t give her the best impression when they had first met. He was trying now even if he didn’t know at first.

Y/n did find it weird— being the best word she could use to describe the feeling— when one of the more popular guys that everyone seemed to like was with her during their free time. They weren’t official but they were together often. Whether it was by themselves or with the rest of their friends. The rest of Minho’s housemates all knew before they did things would be official eventually.

“Did I scare you when we first met?” Minho asked her as they were lying in her dorm bed, her roommate gone for the weekend.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked

“You just seemed scared of me when Ji introduced us,” Minho explained

“You didn’t scare me,” Y/n said, cuddling into him. Winter was setting in now and he had become her personal heater. “Just when you bumped into me at the Halloween party you seemed annoyed when I tried talking to you…”

“That was you?” Minho asked

“Yeah…”

“I was annoyed that night but not because of you,” Minho told her, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

“I don’t blame you. I’m pretty boring…”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m an art major Min. It’s not really a useful career. Sometimes I wonder why you talk to me or even ask me on dates to begin with.”

“Because I like being around you. You’re easy to be around and I like your creativity.”

“You don’t want someone more in your league? Prettier? Cooler?”

“You’re prettier and cooler than you give yourself credit for,” Minho told her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’d be happy to call you my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?!” Y/n’s head shot up and looked at him

“Yeah. I want you to be my girlfriend.” Minho chuckled

Y/n’s face flushed. She had guessed it would eventually get to here but now that the words had left his lips she was at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Y/n nodded her head as Minho laughed. Resting his head on her forehead, “Is that a yes to being my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Y/n quietly said.

Minho smiled and placed a peck on her lips. The kiss was too fast for Y/n. She watched her boyfriend’s reaction to him pulling away then pressed another kiss to her lips. Giving her time to return the affection.

Y/n moved her lips with his before he pulled away again. “You’re a good kisser kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“Yeah. My kitten.”

Minho wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close to his chest. That’s how they stayed for the weekend. Cuddled up together and only pulled away to use the bathroom or get food. Y/n felt like she was on cloud nine with Minho. He walked her to her classes when he had the time and made her any food she asked for. Even when he joked and appeared he didn’t want to. He was always doing things for her. And Y/n never felt happier in the last month of them being together.

“Want to spend the night this weekend ?” Minho asked his girlfriend after walking her to her last class, “Ji’s going to his parent’s house for the weekend so I don’t have to kick him out.”

“The others won’t mind?” Y/n asked

“No. As long as you don’t mind the guys being obnoxiously loud while we’re locked in my room avoiding them,” Minho smiled

“Okay,” Y/n smiled back

“I’ll see you after class,” Minho told her and picked her lips.

Y/n watched her boyfriend walk down the hallway to his class and entered her own. Now, a little too excited for her class to end. She was ready to bolt out of her class as they were dismissed. She tried giving her boyfriend time to get back to her classroom but she still managed to get out before him.

She waited outside her class for him. Leaning against the wall till he snuck up to her and wrapped his kissed her forehead. Y/n looked at her boyfriend, “Hi.”

“Hey. How was class?” He asked as he took her hand. Heading to her dorm so she could grab a few things before heading down to the house.

Minho sat in her desk chair while she packed a small bag, looking at her photos on her wall. A thought crossed his mind as he picked up her smaller digital camera.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked

Minho smiled at her and took a quick photo of her packing her bag. Y/n looked over at him as she heard the shutter click. “Min.”

“I didn’t do it,” Minho told her and took another photo of her.

“I’m never going to win with you, am I?”

“No.”

Y/n shook her head and finished packing her bag. Having to drag her boyfriend from her dorm and to the car. Minho put her things in the backseat and then drove them to his home. Some of the guys were home when they arrived. Y/n said hi to them as Minho pulled her up the stairs to his room. Y/n set her bag down at the foot of his bed as the dancer sat on his bed, pulling her to him and laying back with her.

“Hungry at all?” Minho asked

“No. My boyfriend keeps me nice and full,” Y/n told him as she wrapped her arms around him. Minho smiled and turned on the TV he and Jisung had in their room. Turning on a show the two had talked about watching, casually laying in the bed till Jisung came in to grab something.

“Oh good, you guys aren’t doing anything weird,” Jisung teased as he opened the door

Y/n hid her face in her boyfriend’s chest as Minho glared at his roommate. Y/n focused on the TV as Jisung packed a bag and then said goodbye to the couple, shutting the door behind him.

“Embarrassed kitten?” Minho asked

“A little. What if Ji did walk in while we were doing something? Not that we have done anything but…”

“If we were I would have locked the door. I wouldn’t put you in that position. Have you thought about going further?” Minho explained

“Yeah…”

Minho sat up with her, in a better position to have a more serious conversation. Y/n felt shy about the topic of sex. She didn’t have much experience and she only guessed Minho had more than her. “Look at me, babe?” Minho asked

Y/n hesitantly made eye contact with him for the duration of their conversation. The couple spent maybe an hour talking about their history— she was right about Minho having more experience than her— and protection. Minho made sure Y/n felt completely comfortable as they talked about the next steps in their relationship. Only having gone as far as a few heated make-out sessions. Minho never rushed her with anything which just made her fall for him more.

Maybe that comfort was how the bedroom door ended up locked and Minho was gripping her ass over her jeans while she was sitting on his lap, both their tongues fighting for dominance. Both of them moaned as Y/n gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. Minho used his grip on her backside to pull her closer to him, almost tipping them back on the bed. The dancer chuckled when she made a surprised noise before pulling away and attaching his lips to her neck.

“Min,” Y/n breathed out, fingers dragging up into his hair more.

“Look so good on my lap kitten,” Minho said as his lips roamed all over her neck, biting a couple of patches of skin lightly

Y/n bucked her hips against him when he did nibble on her skin. The slight pinch shot straight to her core. The roll of her hold made the male below her groan and she could feel something poking her from below.

Seconds later Minho had her on her back and kissed down her body. His hands moved to take hold of the low waistband of her jeans. “Can I?” Minho asked

“Please,” Y/n said, lifting her hips for him

Minho smiled and unbuttoned her pants, pulling the fabric down and tossing it to the side. Y/n pressed her thighs together, suddenly a little embarrassed being half-naked in front of him. Minho noticed and placed a kiss on each of her thighs and her hips, gently pulling her legs apart before settling between them. Y/n watched as he put her legs over his shoulders and pressed a few kisses to her clothed core. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched her boyfriend kiss and lick her through the fabric before he pulled away and pulled the fabric off her legs, tossing them to the floor with her bottoms.

Minho readjusted them, grabbing her hands and intertwining their fingers. “Anyone ever take care of you, kitten?”

“No…” Y/n admitted as he pressed a kiss to her clit

Minho hummed then licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, wrapping his lips around the bud. Y/n moaned as he sucked on the little bud. She gripped his hands as he switched between sucking on her clit and licking the bud with his tongue. Y/n gasped when she felt his tongue dip into her, back arching off his mattress as he moved the muscle in and out of her.

His hands left her and grabbed the tops of her thighs. Holding her legs over his shoulders as he ate her out. Y/n grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand, making him moan into her. Y/n had to cover her mouth so none of the others would hear her. It got harder to hide them as the knot in her stomach kept tightening and tightening until it snapped.

The photographer gasped as her hips rocked against his face. Minho held her against him as he helped her through the high. Not stopping till he had her cleaned up and her grip on his hair loosened. He pulled away, put her legs back on the bed, and sat up on his knees. Wrong off any excess liquid with the back of his hand.

Y/n caught her breath again as Minho threw off his t-shirt letting it join her bottoms on the ground. Y/n took in the sight up his upper torso, just by his arms she knew her boyfriend was toned but seeing his chest and abs, whew.

“What you staring at kitten?” Minho teased as he crawled over her, caging her in with his arms.

“My hot boyfriend,” Y/n responded as she ran her fingers down his front and hooked them around his belt.

“Not so shy anymore,” Minho smiled as he leaned down to kiss her neck again.

Y/n hummed as she undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then unbuttoning his jeans. Meanwhile, Minho used one hand to push her shirt up. The two worked as best they could undressing each other. Once they finally got the rest of their clothes off and onto the floor, Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock. Minho moaned as she slowly stroked him, one hand of his having taken hold of her breasts. Groping the flesh as his lips worked their way down to the other.

Minho wasn’t trying to hide his moans like Y/n was. He’d heard all his friends before and he was sure they had heard him before so none of it mattered to him. But knowing his girlfriend, he tried not to be too loud and embarrass her. Not that any of the guys would tease them if they knew what was good for them.

His hand that was on her boob moved down and his thumb ran over her sensitive clit. His head came up from her chest just in time to see her tilt her head back in pleasure. Minho leaned into her neck and kissed the skin, making sure to leave his mark on her. Y/n moaned as he sucked on her skin while he circled her clit. Their stroke paces fell in sync, one would pick up their speed and then the other would follow suit.

Y/n managed to pull his lips from her neck up to her mouth. Kissing him to drown out her moans as her hips rocked against his hand. Minho matched her strokes with his hips. Thrusting into her hand as his orgasm approached. Her grip tightened as her second high approached her, taking over her body seconds later. Minho thrusted into her hand as he worked her through her high. His cum shot onto her lower stomach as she came down from her second high.

“Sorry,” Mino apologized as he came down from his orgasm

“‘S okay,” Y/n told him. “It was hot.”

Minho hummed as he sat up, looking down at her. “You look good with my cum on you.”

“Should take a picture,” Y/n said

“Want me to?” Minho questioned

“Camera’s in my bag.”

Minho moved and grabbed her bag from the foot of his bed, quickly finding her camera and getting back in his position. Her legs rested over his thighs as he pointed the camera lens down at her stomach. Catching her wet cunt as well and his dick laying between her legs. Y/n watched the flash go off before he pulled the camera away from his face. Minho leaned down and pecked her lips.

“Want to keep going, kitten?” Minho asked

“Yes,” Y/n answered. “Can I… ride you?” She asked as he leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom.

“My kitty wants to ride me?” He teased as he closed the drawer.

“Please…”

Minho didn’t say anything before flipping their position. He placed her on his lower stomach and handed her the condom. Y/n took the foil from his hand and sat up on her knees. She scooted back a bit as she opened the wrapper and took out the rubber. Y/n jerked her boyfriend’s dick again until he was erect again, then slid on the rubber.

Minho held her hips as she positioned herself above him. She kept his cock steady till the tip was inside her. Moaning as she placed her hands on his waist while she sank onto him. The dancer helped her ease down onto him. He gave her a second once he was fully inside her, keeping a hold on her hips. Y/n sat up straight and held her boyfriend’s wrists and looked down at him. She noticed the light layer of sweat that was covering his body. She found her camera on the bed and held it up to her face.

She snapped a photo of her boyfriend. Minho smiled before taking the camera from her hands. Y/n clenched around her boyfriend as he pointed the camera at her. Minho snapped a photo as she started rolling her hips back and forth. Her hands pressed to his chest to stabilize herself.

Minho took a couple of photos of her and then put the camera to the side again. The dancer planted his feet on the bed and held her hips, slowly starting to bounce her on him. Y/n used her position to lift herself so her boyfriend wasn’t doing all the work.

Minho’s hands moved back and gripped her ass as she rode him. Tilting his head back in pleasure as her walls pulsed around him. Y/n took the chance to lay on his chest and suck her own marks onto his skin. Minho happily let her do so as he lifted his hips and started thrusting into her.

Y/n moaned against his skin as he thrusted into her. Accidently biting down a little harder on his neck when his tip found the spongy spot inside her and hit it dead on.

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, wrapping his arms around her and holding her down on his chest

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled as she kissed the spot

“Don’t. Felt good,” Minho told her as his pace picked up

Y/n moaned as he aimed for the spot again. Hiding away in her boyfriend's neck as her walls clenched around him. She tried rolling her hips to keep up with his pace but she was far slower than him, though she still tried.

The knot was tightening far too quickly in her stomach this time. Each thrust felt like the next would make her cum again. She did her best to hold out but she couldn’t. Her walls spasmed around Minho’s cock. The dance held onto her as her body shook on top of him. Fucking her through the high before his took over. Burying himself into her and letting his cum fill up the rubber.

“Fuck,” both groaned as they caught their breaths

Y/n sat up and looked at her boyfriend's neck. Not realizing how many marks she had left on him — she could only imagine what hers looked like. She ran her thumb over the front of his neck before grabbing her camera again and taking a photo.

Minho chuckled at her before helping her off his cock and laying her on the bed. Y/n smiled as she watched him toss the condom then put on his boxers and leave the room. She looked over three photos they had taken before he came back with a washcloth and cleaned her up.

“Everyone’s in their rooms, wanna go take a shower?” Minho asked

“Yes please,” Y/n agreed.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz x reader smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know x reader smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader smut

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sleepinghypnos · 9 months ago

Text

The Creed...

Chapter 1 - Penthouse

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

"What is it? I'm preoccupied, so make it quick." Vlad answered the call.

"Fine. Just send them to my house... but I will not be responsible if something happens to them." He replied with his slightly deep voice and end the call.

*Silenced Gunshot*

"Blame your competitor, not me." Vlad immediately packed up his sniper rifle and fled the scene while remembering what one of his close associates in the entertainment industry said few moments ago, he begged him to accommodate a number of female K-pop idols for the purpose of strengthening the bond between idols through a experimental project wherein they live together as Tenants, cameras will not be present just them living together and at the end of their time as tenants they will do an interview regarding the way of life living with other k-pop idols aside from their respective members. In this way, the fandoms of each k-pop group will stop fighting over trivial things on the internet and support other idols.

Vladimir Creed was a 26 year old Half-European and Half-American man. His parents died in a car accident when he was still a child and only his grandfather is his only family left. He's living a lavish lifestyle full of money, expensive cars and women...

His family or more like his grandfather founded a huge company in America and owns many stocks in the entertainment industry in Korea and since Vlad is not someone who actively makes himself noticeable or well-known, he parties without revealing his true identity to anyone with a few exception of course, he has few actual friends and all of them are also young masters of their own families just like he was and he rarely expresses his emotions so he has a hard time managing it.

In his typical days, he spends most of his time just relaxing in his penthouse, in which he bought himself with his own money. though it may seem strange since he parties every chance he get, he has a very unique talent and that is being a hired gun that even his grandfather didn't know.

And while relaxing, he usually goes naked after a shower because there is no one in the house, It's is personal space after all. His maids and butlers will only come if they were asked for and he cooks for himself.

His penthouse is in a small island near the coast and there is only one bridge connected to it. So, guests who'll visit the island can use the bridge without the need of boats.

...

Vlad arrived at his house but welcomed by cars parked near the main gate. "What the fuck is this?" He said to himself, he got out of his car to check what's going on then he remembered Eunseok, one of his close associates said few hours ago. "Now it makes."

Then he called one of the guards to let him pass, and so they did. He drove and the people blocking the path dispersed and he got in smoothly.

"Let them in, they are going to live here indefinitely." Vlad announced to the guards and went inside to change.

Most of the people outside the penthouse are already inside the living area, he saw the k-pop idols waiting for the master of the house.

"I'm Vladimir Creed, but you can call me Vlad. I'm the owner of this house, my friend already told me what you guys are going to do. So feel free live here." and he looked at managers of each of the group "There are places in the house that is not available, I don't care if they used the swimming pool, drink at the bar." Pointing at the wet bar near the kitchen. "Or anything, but, all of third floor is off limits because that's where my room is located."

The producer nodded and introduce the idols that will be living with him in the house.

He extended his hand for a handshake to ITZY's Yuna and Ryujin, Aespa's Karina and Winter, (G)-Idle's Soyeon and Miyeon, Red Velvet's Irene, Seulgi, and Joy, and Twice's Sana, Mina, and Nayeon which they received with a smile.

One day has passed, the girls are eating lunch in the long refectory table since they woke up late just like Vlad was and the maids and butlers were there to assist them.

After lunch, the Red Velvet and Twice members were gathered in the backyard, enjoying a beautiful sunny day by the pool. They were relaxing and chatting about their recent performances, when they suddenly heard a splash from the pool.

Curious, they all turned to see Nayeon filling up a water gun and aimed at them. Panic set in as they scream and run around the pool to avoid getting wet since they just want to enjoy the sun.

Running made them exhausted and they decided to have a friendly water fight. Joy and Seulgi teamed up against Sana and Mina, Nayeon and Irene. Laughter and screams filled the air as they chased each other around the pool, trying to get each other wet

In the living room, Ryujin and Karina were sharing a bucket of ice cream while watching a romantic K-drama. They were joined by Soyeon and Miyeon, who couldn't resist the delicious smell of the popcorn. They all cuddled under a blanket, enjoying the show and teasing each other about their favorite characters. Yuna and Winter are busy doing some tiktok challenge.

As the sun set, the members of ITZY, Aespa, and (G)-Idle joined their sun-kissed Seniors in the pool. They all gathered around the pool, sharing stories, and having a heart-to-heart conversation. For a moment, the backyard was filled with the sound of their laughter and friendship.

As the night came, they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie together. They munched on some snacks and cuddled on the couch, enjoying their time together. It was a perfect day off for all of them, a day filled with laughter, bonding, and memories that they will cherish forever.

Karina asked the butler where Vlad was and she was led to the study where he spends time if he's not doing anything.

When Karina entered the study, she was met with a tall, imposing figure staring at her from behind a large oak desk. Vlad's dark hair was slicked back, and he exuded a sense of power and mystery. Karina couldn't help but feel a pull towards him, she already know that this man is handsome the moment she land her eyes on him earlier in the morning.

"Um, Sir? I just want to asked if we can have some of the liquor in the wet bar." She asked while slowly approaching him.

"Didn't I told you girls that you can do whatever you want with the wet bar?" He answered and walked to towards her. "And you're asking me when you already half drunk."

Karina got embarrassed but it faded when a faint smile appeared on Vlad's lips, she was mesmerized. "Are you sure that's the reason why you're here?" he was close to her, Karina needs to look up just to meet his eyes.

Karina pulls him for a kiss and reciprocated it with the same intensity. It started as vanilla kissing until in turns into something like animals in heat and eventually began to make out with insane passion. Vlad grab her waist to pull her closer, her hands were hugging his neck.

He noticed she wanted more and so he obliged and brought one hand to feel up her breasts which made Karina moan between their kisses.

Their kiss was passionate, Vlad keeping her in his arms while she let herself be consumed by him. It lasted for few minutes until they both stopped quietly staring at each other.

"D-did you like it?" Karina said while catching her breathe.

"I did, your lips are sweet with a hint of whiskey... you really were half drunk." Brushing his thumb on her lips. "Want me to lead this time?" he asked her while caressing her face.

"Yes, please." Karina said.

“Do you think could handle it?” Vlad responded seemingly showing concern.

Karina nodded. “I did have my own few boyfriends before...”

“I won't doubt it but... I get rough. Really rough. I'm sure it's something you haven't experience before..."

“You are worrying about me and that's sweet but I think I'm gonna be fine... please don't hold back and just give it to me.” She said while making a serious face.

Vlad's hand roam towards her neck and stayed there and slowly gripping it. Her cunt throb as they kiss again and slowly stripping each other’s clothes off, his hands still in her neck slightly choking her.

As their bodies got liberated from their clothing, Vlad immediately attacks Karina's big breasts making her moan, her hands couldn't resist to push his head closer. His other hand goes to Karina's precious treasure and starts invading it.

"This fucking slutty tits of yours keeps leering people on." Vlad said while groping her breasts and assaulting them with his tongue...

"Fuck! Yes! It feels good, sir." Karina said.

Which made Vlad riled up even more. "Sir?" He stopped groping her breast.

"You don't like being called like that? I'll change it." She said while pleading to continue to pleasure her.

He doesn't like getting called Daddy/Oppa. The women he's been with keeps calling him that and he got bored by it, now he prefers to called by his name but this time around is different.

Sir? of all the things that someone can be called... Sir is the one getting him riled up.

"No, keep it that way... now get on your knees whore." Vlad said with a commanding aura. “I’m going to use your mouth as a fleshlight. Pull my cock out.”

Karina didn't expect the monster hiding beneath his pants. She could see the bulge of his massive cock. Now she knows why he said 'Something she haven't experience before.' because it's true. He is much bigger than the guys she's been with. So much bigger. She feels hotter and hotter than usual.

Vlad's dick stands proud at 10 inches and is almost girthy as a water bottle.

“You are so massive, fucking massive!” Karina said as she freed his cock and hit her in the face. She stare at his huge member mesmerized by it.

“My god! Why are you so big? Can you even use this?” She said as she grabbed his cock with with both hands. "And you're going to use my mouth with this thing?"

"What? Are you scared? I told you I'm rough and I mean it." He said seriously. "You are going to take every inch of my cock in your throat whether you like it or not."

Karina got nervous but her lust towards him is much heavier.

She showered his cock with kisses, admiring every inch, as if she's worshipping his massive member.

"Suck it." And she did, she gives him a slow and sensual blowjob, keeping her eyes on him.

"You came in her just to do that?"

“What do you mean, Sir?”

He grabbed her by the hair she opened her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she possibly could.

COUGH COUGH COUGH

Relaxing her throat as she let his girthy cock push through her throat. She struggled for a minute and he's watching her giving herself to him.

Vlad guides her and she bobbed her head up and down to see how deep she could take him over and over and over again. Her eyes were tearing up, saliva dripping down as she takes his girthy cock in her throat.

She taps his legs but Vlad ignored her protests and stayed in her throat. "I told you, I'm rough... you don't know what you get yourself into."

He is fucking her throat with reckless abandon and not caring if she can still breathe. Few seconds more and he let go and she breathe hastily. "Sh-shit! I almost passed out." She coughs. "Fuck!"

"Just accept your role as my slut from now on." He slaps her face with his massive heavy cock.

He forced his cock back into her throat. She gives in, letting this man use her mouth and throat as a fleshlight. Her eyes were rolled back into her head.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

Her moaning and gagging sounds filled the study, the moonlight touches her silky white skin enhancing her beauty further while her throat is getting violated. Even though she already accepted her fate, she still needs to breathe and she tried to struggle for air but failed.

“MMMPPHKKKK!” She resists and got ignored.

“Just stay there, don't regret your decisions now.” Vlad said and spent another three seconds before letting Karina go.

She chokes and gags even though she's already freed from that monster of a cock. “Did I... do a good job, Sir?” She asked noticeably exhausted. She then received another batch of throatfucking and this time, it's much easier but it still hurts.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

She's taking it like a good little slut, moaning and groaning every time Vlad thrusts too deep in her throat. Karina became accustomed to the massive rod destroying her tight throat and she slowly but surely loving the way he manhandle her without any care about her well-being.

"I'm cumming you little slut!" He said and starts speeding up in his assaults. After all of this, he gave her some leeway and pull his cock out of her mouth. "Want to drink it?"

“YES! T-thank you, feed me your c-cum! Please sir, I'm begging you!!!” She said before he shoved his cock back into her mouth again.

Vlad reached his climax and poured it all in Karina's throat, he releases an obscene amount of cum like he's been holding it for long while. She willingly swallow every bit of it. Few ropes of his cum left in her mouth, she put on a show by gurgling, swirling her tongue cover of his cum then swallowing it.

“Oh my god... fucking hell... that was heavenly!” She said as she crawled over to him and started to lick his shaft cleaning it. “I need to be treated like that again, Sir. Please! You are right, I never experienced that before..”

"Oh, That's only the beginning little slut." He said while grabbing her in the neck and pulling her up.

A/N: Another Series that I might abandon but... oh well. I planned on doing the Bodyguard EP. 6 but idk when to actually do it.

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fic #itzy smut #aespa smut #kpop #red velvet smut #twice smut #(g)-idle smut #karina smut

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 9 months ago

Note

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)

in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship

warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names

word count: 3658

A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀

He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.

It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.

Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.

Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.

He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.

“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.

“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.

“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.

Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.

You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.

“Where?”

“Shelf by the fridge.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.

This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.

He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.

“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”

“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”

Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”

“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”

That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.

“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.

To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”

“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”

“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.

“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.

“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”

“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.

“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.

“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.

You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”

“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.

“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.

You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.

You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”

Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.

“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.

“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”

Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.

“What is it?”

“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”

“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.

“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.

He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”

Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.

Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.

Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.

“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.

“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.

Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“

“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.

That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”

A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.

“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.

“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.

“Spence,” you rasped.

“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.

“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.

You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”

“Spencer…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.

“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.

Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.

Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.

And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.

“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.

“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.

You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.

——

A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #asks

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yuyuwritesss · 7 months ago

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AFTER DARK +18

Pairing : Simon "Ghost" Riley × Reader.

Summary: you and Simon get acquainted on the subway.

Cw : smut, public sex, reader is pent up.

————————————————————————

Chronically tired, sexually frustrated and working nights. Could it get any worse for you?

Luckily you get off just in time to catch the first subway of the day, saving you some bucks and lessening your burden.

Incidentally that's around the same time Simon, home from deployment but still used to the early hours, finishes his morning training at a boxing gym he frequented as a teenager which he no longer lives close to now and has to commute back from, muscles aching from his training and morning run.

It has become a habit for you and Simon to ride the sub together, sitting away from each other. With him keeping an eye on you while you doze off.

You're usually the only two people on it up until the end of your commute, with you getting off a few stations before he does, his eyes watching you jolt out of your light, restless sleep at the sound of the automated voice announcing your station's name, and you're out of the door in seconds, but not before throwing him a glance.

The masked, hulking stranger who usually makes his way into your dreams, an hour later when you've gone to sleep in your bed, turning them into wet fantasies of being taken by him in the sub, filth whispered into your ear. An orgasm, which has been out of reach for months due to low energy and stress induced mental blocks, finally ripped out of you.

You always feel his gaze on you when he thinks you're sleeping. You wear your prettiest pencil skirts and tights to give him something to look at but you're still too reluctant to actually strike up a conversation.

Which turns out to be unnecessary when one morning, he chooses to sit right next to you, boxing you in between his hard body and the window, no words spoken.

You don't look at him at first but a large, warm hand on your thigh causes you to turn your head toward him, his brown orbs already on you, gauging your reaction.

He lightly squeezes your thigh in silent question, causing you to freeze and your eyes to widen. You slowly face ahead, the realization settling in that you could finally turn your dreams into reality and release some of your painfully pent up frustration.

Just as he began to withdraw his hand, an apology for causing discomfort bubbling up, your arm hooked around his and you slowly leaned your head against his strong shoulder. Feeling you relax against him, he returns his hand to where it previously was, and slowly starts running it up your thigh, going under your skirt and pulling it up, your legs spreading to allow him access.

When he reaches your crotch, his other hand is brought over to rip a hole in your tights enough to push your underwear aside, soliciting a gasp at both ruining your tights and the sensation of his fingers sliding over your folds.

"Shh, I'll make it up to you, doll.", his deep voice sends warmth coursing through you, your hold tightening around his arm.

He gently spreads your wet folds before scooping out some of your wetness with his index and middle finger. He then rubs your clit, getting it wet and prepared enough for the stimulation to come. His hand cups your sex, his calloused forefingers squeezing your clit between them, then he begins moving his hand in a circular motion, leaving you gasping in his shoulder as the pleasure slowly builds up.

Your hands claw at his hard bicep, the fabric of his hoodie pulled taut under your hand. You feel his cheek against the top of your head.

"You like that ?"

You barely hear him as you feel your release approaching, with his hand going faster causing your breath to hitch and soft mewls to spill out of your lips.

"You gonna come for me ?" You quickly nod against his shoulder, your hair ruffling and your other hand gripping his arm, hugging it to your chest even tighter to increase the pressure on your clit.

He nudges his nose between your ear and his shoulder and whispers "cum.", wringing it out of you, sharp waves of pleasure pulling you under and nearly suffocating you with how intense it is to feel yourself come undone again after months of denied pleasure.

He slows his movements down as your clit continues its spasms between his fingers.

"That's a good girl." He gives your clit one last pat, startling you.

Then after readjusting your underwear pulls the leg on the other side to him and leans down, softly speaking by the crown of your head.

"We just missed your station. Come home with me?"

And you, made dumb by your orgasm and wanting more, nod against him for what surely wouldn't be the last time that morning.

#cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #smut #simon riley x reader smut

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webq84 · 8 months ago

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soft yandere photographer who accidentally snaps a picture of you for one of his projects when he was supposed to take a photo of a butterfly who decided to take a break from flying and rests it's colorful wings on the top of your sketchbook. your creative mind too busy to get distracted with such a small little thing.

ever since then, soft yandere photographer has been following you wherever you go. snapping pictures of you in different scenery, different clothing, but you're always stuck in that precious sketchbook of yours.

you were always so focused, the serious expression on your face never budging. but sometimes it'll be different, your face subtly expressing a bunch of emotions as your fingers lifts up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your brows furrowing with the smallest amount. he figured it was to help you create more expressive characters.

he can never get too close to you, as for some reason aside from your art, you were gifted with really keen senses. flinching and turning your head away from the pages of your drawings to see what made the grasses beneath you rustle a bit. he nearly stumbles on his feet, pretending to be just walking past you, heart skipping a beat when you make eye contact and give each other a small smile.

after that, he can only observe and take a photo of you from a good enough distance that you'll think he's just another person amongst the people enjoying a cup of coffee in that favorite cafe of yours you usually like to go to. or he's just one of those people who like to read their books near mother nature as he sits on one of the benches in the park which is coincidentally in the same row as yours.

all of those times he's sneaky with his camera, using his surroundings to his advantage. faking to post about the cafe's interiors to promote them, when it was solely your pictures that contains the storage of his camera.

it's almost like a little play for him, appearing as a different role each time just to catch a glimpse of you.

it was always the same routine, until one day, when he managed to find the perfect spot that's a little closer to you than usual—he noticed something from that little sketchbook of yours, zooming in closer to create a more clearer image for him. his breath suddenly getting trapped in the back of his throat.

it was... him. all of them. drawn in seemingly different art styles as if you were testing which one suits him the best. he even recognized some of the poses you used for him. there was one where he was in your favorite cafe, with his own ordered coffee as he remembers sitting on a different table across from yours. there was even one where he was at the park sitting on a bench, where he was supposedly to be reading the book he brought with him.

and what's strange about those specific drawings of yours, is that you've drawn him with his trusted camera on his hands, blocking half of his face as the little slashes of lines around the sketched camera indicates that he was taking a picture. almost as if you knew what he was doing...

he felt his heart almost jumped out of his chest when he zoomed out from your sketchbook, because instead of finding you burying yourself in the world of your sketchbook, he saw you looking towards his way. acknowledging him. your eyes meeting his through his camera.

you seem to attract butterflies a lot, when another like before joins you for this special picture, his shaky hands trying their best not to drop his camera on the ground as he snaps a photo of you smiling cheekily at him. the little butterfly giving him more cute pictures of you laughing and giggling as it tickles you, playfully kissing you in the nose.

#𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 #just a cute silly idea i thought of #yandere fic #soft yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere concept #yandere x gn reader #yandere fluff #yandere drabble #yandere writing #male yandere

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sylvesterelle · 11 days ago

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Meditations in an Emergency

Reader/Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

“Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.” Or: How to live well and get railed through the power of compliments.

Part 1 of 2, 5,857 words, mature, cw: alcohol, cannabis

Read on A03

"I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love. "

Frank O'Hara, "Meditations in an Emergency"

“I just think people should compliment each other more, that’s all,” you declare, biting the cherry off plastic sword that Kat, the bartender, had stuck in your Dirty Shirley. “Like we think these things all the time. Her scarf is pretty, or that guy’s got a cool haircut or whatever. We notice them, we think about them, but so rarely do we say it, you know? Even though being complimented is the best,” you say emphatically, using the tiny sword to punctuate your words.

Kat nods and gives you a second cherry, because Kat is good people. Kat serves you doubles while charging for singles and listens to you ramble and lets you spread your notebooks and laptop on the bar when it’s slow, like tonight.

It’s early on a Friday evening which means you’re supposed to be writing. You pay the bills as a ghostwriter during the week and you like it, you do. The flexibility to work strange hours typing late into the night, remote so you write wherever you want like coffee shops and cocktail bars and anywhere loud enough to drown out the more distracting of your thoughts.

But you spend so much time devoted to other people’s work that you’d promised to set weekends aside to work on your own ideas. Easier said than done, when there isn’t an irate publisher on the other end setting deadlines and demanding pages. And the problem with your own ideas is that you just have so many of them; find it hard to devote yourself to one without getting distracted by another, your hard-drive a graveyard of drafts in various states of decomposition.

But routine helped, so there you’ve sat every Friday night for almost two months—even if you’ve spent proportionally less time writing than people-watching and sweet-talking Kat into making you interesting drinks off-menu (“This is a dive bar,” she’s told you more than once. “We don’t even a menu to be off of.”)

It’s not not part of your writing process, you reason. You’re a firm believer that life is stranger than fiction, and many of your most delightful ideas have come from observations and unusual interactions—the very reason you’d been thinking about the importance of compliments.

“I just think we should be more intentional about finding joy in each other. For example, what would you say, darling Kat,” you begin, batting your eyes at her sweetly, “if I told you that you look fucking incredible now and always, you’re so hot it gives me hives if I look at you straight on, and more specifically that little curl that’s coming out of your ponytail is particularly fetching and I like it a lot?”

Kat rolls her eyes, which is as good as a smile for her. “I would say you should slow down on the Shirleys.”

You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends, not really, but there was a familiarity and ease in the relationship now that warmed you. You’d met her your very first night while on your usual ramble to learn a new place, begin to make sense of its curves and corners and spirit. The neighborhood you’d found an apartment in wasn’t the best, but it was furnished and month-to-month and good enough for you. Best of all, you’d only needed to wander in the snow a couple blocks before you’d struck gold: drawn like a moth where a plain, unmarked door had opened, spilling warm light and the sounds of overlapping laughter into the night.

Inside it really was a dive, all sticky floors and old dollar bills pinned to the ceiling, a jukebox that took dimes and a blonde bombshell behind the counter who served with a decided lack of smile. But a week of you showing up and chattering at her had cracked that icy shell enough to get a name and a few raised eyebrows instead of complete silence. By the time you’d earned your discount as a regular around the third week, she’d occasionally comment on your more interesting trains of thought, offer some piercing observations and insights of her own if she was in a good mood.

A couple more weeks, and you know her well enough to bring a second iced coffee when you arrive for the evening, Kat pulling a bottle of Irish cream from the well as you remove the lids in a dance that has become comforting in its routine.

Yours is now slowly melting beside you, momentarily abandoned in favor of the syrupy-sweet mess that was waiting for you. Kat’s sipping the last of her own as she considers her verdict on your compliment, hip propped against the side of the bar.

“I don’t know if I’d particularly appreciate a stranger saying that to me. Don’t want strangers saying anything to me, really,” she frowns, “but particularly the bit about the hives.”

“Alright, I might have gone too hard out the gate with that one,” you admit. “But more importantly, I think you might be in the wrong profession for strangers not talking to you.”

She flips you the bird, heading to greet the two regulars that had slipped into place at the end of the bar. It was still early enough in the night that the place was mostly empty, only a few singles and two-tops stopping for an after-shift drink, giving you and Kat plenty of time to talk. It’d get rowdy enough later on, the voices louder, the jukebox queue a little more violent—but you’d found that among the chaos was often when you did your best writing.

“Hives aside, you know what I mean though, right?” you continue when Kat returns. “Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.”

You ignore this, already imagining renting a sailboat somewhere sunny, tropical. “I always thought it’d be fun to be a sailor,” you say dreamily. “Kerouac was a Merchant Marine, did you know?"

Kat makes a face.

“What, you didn’t like the book?” You’d loaned her a copy of The Dharma Bums the week before, slim and beloved enough that you carried it with you instead of borrowing from the local library, like you usually did. You had a collection of library cards now, rattling around in an old Altoid tin—the only souvenirs you kept from all the various cities you’d visited in your travels.

“It was fine. Good, even, if you’re into that sort of thing,” she say, swirling her coffee around. “He’s just so fucking mopey. I wanted to shake him, like c’mon man, you need to stop thinking about your life and actually fucking live it.” Kat’s the most animated she ever gets. Which, admittedly, is just slightly more expressive than usual: eyes narrowed a little further, three degrees more derision in her tone.

Kat prefers nonfiction. History. Facts. Still reads everything you recommend, but rarely finishes one without getting frustrated with protagonists making dumb decisions and whining about their life choices. And while some of the books she recommends to you are a little dry at times, they’re certainly illuminating—and the last one about organ harvesting was surprisingly catalytic for plot ideas.

You shrug, acknowledging the point. She’s not wrong, but you tend to live most of your life in your own head and your own worlds, so it doesn’t bother you in quite the same way. Although, now that she mentions it…

“You know, all of this is kind of to my earlier point. Giving someone a compliment is like the ultimate shortcut to living outside your head. You’re not all wrapped up in your own issues and thoughts, but appreciating the world and the people around you. Even if you don’t say it—which you should—it means you’re paying attention. Noticing.”

You drain the last of your Shirley, swapping it out for the iced coffee and swirling around the diluted ice. “Proposal: we make a game of it, tonight. We notice.” It wouldn’t be that different from what you and Kat normally did; share little observations on other patrons, trade theories on this person’s job or that person’s backstory. They’d just be a little more…intentional about it. "Keep your eye out for any interesting hats or weird pins or extremely sexy noses and come and tell me. That way we can both enjoy it,” you entreat, clasping your hands together in anticipatory delight.

You know better than to suggest Kat actually compliment anyone. You’re optimistic, not delusional.

“What constitutes an extremely sexy nose?” she asks, frowning at you.

You shake your head pityingly. “Oh Kat, that’s something you feel in your heart.”

She rolls her eyes and heads to the other end of the bar, where a nicely-dressed couple sink uncertainly onto the cracked vinyl stools. Looking around like they might be feeling just a wee bit out of place. You catch the woman’s eye, smiling broadly. “I love your dress,” you tell her, and feel the joy of her answering blush bubble sweet and bright in your veins.

…

You pride yourself on having excellent ideas, but this is easily one of your best. You get a tremendous amount of writing done, unusually productive while riding the high of giving out compliments left and right. Not so many that it feels insincere and never any you don’t mean. But Baader–Meinhof was a real sonofabitch because it’s true that the more you look, the more you see to appreciate.

Like Bobby, the union electrician with his first name embroidered on the pocket of his work-shirt. It catches your eye because it’s not machine-printed but carefully done by hand, illuminated when he leans over to order a Schlitz. His wife’s work, he shares you when you comment on it. “She’s paid special for her embroidery but still makes time to do every last one of my shirts. So I can carry her love around all day,” he says proudly, unabashed even when his friends tease him good-naturedly.

Then there’s the lady whose cheetah-print nails match her furry coat, who winks at you when she catches you looking admiringly from across the bar. Right after her is the burly biker who reveals an entire themed photoshoot of his toy poodle when you compliment the photo on his lockscreen. Others in between, some you speak to, some you don’t—but all you appreciate in a way you vow to do more in the future.

Inevitably, little pieces of what you observe trickle onto the page, fleshing out bits of characters and sparking ideas you jot down in bursts of inspiration. You won’t know until later if you’ll end up keeping any of it, but you like the thought that that you’ll always have some part of this moment—the people, the place, the time—woven into your writing. A little souvenir in-and-of-itself.

Though the night gets progressively busier, Kat swings by from time to time to share her observations: money fished from strange locations, custom bank cards, funny pins she read when customers leaned close to shout their orders over the music—partially your fault, after you compliment an old geezer’s song choice and spend twenty minutes with him, combing through the catalogue and cackling as you feed dime after dime and queue enough dad-rock to last a fair few hours.

All told, you’re feeling fucking incredible as it nears midnight and the synth solo from Toto’s “Rosanna,” has you wriggling in your seat. You’ve a few thousand words under your belt and the high off all those little moments of kinship is making you feel sparkling and happy and well, which, historically speaking, is sometimes a challenge for you.

You grin at Kat when she slumps next to you, enjoying a brief reprieve from new customers.

“Whatcha got for me, killer?” you ask, fishing in your bag for a granola bar. She takes it with a grateful look, shoving half of it in her mouth and talking as she chews.

“You’re gonna fucking love this. A mohawk, dude. In 2024.”

You perk up, looking around the room. It’s pretty packed now, but you can’t believe you missed a cut that attention-getting. “Liberty spikes?” you ask hopefully. You adored the punks of your acquaintance; always had interesting thoughts and insider tips on the local music scene.

Kat shakes her head. “Nah, it was cut short. Gym rat type, I think. Good tip, nice accent. Scottish,” she clarifies around the last of the granola bar. “Talked some shit about the ‘natural superiority of whisky over bourbon’ when he got a Maker’s for his friend.”

You hum, still craning your head. “See where they sat?”

She shakes her head. “Asked about smoking though, so probably on the patio.”

Calling it a patio was generous—a small bit of grass with a couple white lawn chairs and an ashtray, mostly. But there was a heat-lamp that worked roughly sixty percent of the time, which made the bar very popular with those in the know on cold nights like this.

“Speaking of, ‘bout time to take your break?”

If it wasn’t too busy Frank, the bouncer, would watch the bar while you and Kat split a joint in the back, sitting in companionable silence and pointing out shooting stars and passing satellites—clear skies a benefit of the city’s frigid nights. Kat knew a startling amount about astronomy but absolutely nothing about astrology; could tell you the history of the universe up to the surface of last scattering, but blinked at you when you’d asked if she was a Scorpio or a Capricorn.

Kat checks the clock then whistles to get Frank’s attention. You shove your laptop into your bag but don’t bother with a coat—your cheeks are flushed from the warmth of the crowd and you don’t mind the cold, not really.

The patio initially looks abandoned, silent but for the wet sound of car tires moving through the snow-choked alley. Not totally surprising; most balk at below-zero temps even with the lamp. Snow clumps heavy and wet on top of the plastic chairs and the overturned garbage pail that serves as a footrest but the sky is clear, a thousand tiny pinpricks of light visible in the heavens. You breathe in until the night air fills your lungs and you feel fresh and clean and cracked open wide, just pouring out love into the world.

Movement in your periphery catches your eye and oh, Kat was right, not a punk at all.

You’re not quite sure what to make of the two men standing half-shadowed near the lamp. Big is the first word that comes to mind and perhaps that’s sufficient for now, since you can’t seem to stop ogling the breadth of their shoulders and mouthwatering thighs long enough to notice anything else.

Kat had thought gym-rat but you’d put money on those bodies not just being for show—there’s too much power, too much potential for carnage disguised in that plush softness that comes from muscles in repose.

“Why hullo there, barkeep,” the one with the shaggy, soft-looking mohawk greets Kat jovially, his Scottish accent just as charming as promised. “And barkeep’s friend,” he adds, nodding to you as you come close enough to get a good look at his face. To latch on to details like the too-blue shade of his eyes and the too-sharp canines in his smile, the silvery-white starburst of a scar across his stubbled chin.

“Christ you’re pretty,” you hear yourself say. This happens sometimes, your mouth just venturing off on its own to get you into trouble.

Kat groans overlap with the man’s chuckle. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” he says, propping the lit cigarette between his lips and sticking out a hand. His palm is warm and callused against your own as you properly introduce Kat and yourself.

“I’m Soap, this here’s Ghost,” he offers in turn, nodding towards his friend who steps forward, murmurs a quiet greeting. He’s enough in the light now to reveal dark eyes shadowed under a hood, skeleton gloves and a matching skull-print balaclava pushed up far enough to accommodate a lit cigarette.

“Fuck me, that’s cool as shit,” you grin at him, immediately charmed by the weirdness of it all.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the man says affably, his voice a rumble deep in his chest. He doesn’t smile but there’s a little twist of his mouth that could be amused, if you squint.

“Jesus Christ,” Kat mutters, eyes shutting briefly in second-hand embarrassment. “She’s on a mission about compliments tonight, noticing people,” she tells them with bemused emphasis, turning to clear off the chairs and kick snow off the garbage can.

“I just think it’s important to be more open with our affection, even with strangers. Especially with strangers,” you argue, dropping into one of the seats and pulling out the battered Altoid tin that holds your stash and a few pre-rolled joints. “Will this bother you?” you ask the men, holding up one.

They shake their heads, amused.

“Good, because it’s my fucking bar,” Kat snorts, grabbing it from your fingers and dropping into the chair next to you.

“What, you own this place?” you say, flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kat holds the joint in her mouth and cups a hand around her lighter flame, coaxing it to life despite the wind. She takes a deep drag, tilting her head up before releasing a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

It looks wicked cool right up until she folds in half, coughing desperately on the tail end of the exhale. You can’t fucking blame her; you’d bought it off your teenage neighbor, a science prodigy who claimed to have developed the perfect strain. Ivy League, he called it, since it had paid for his entire college fund.

Kat straightens up, red face feigning composure as she passes you the joint. “You never asked,” she finally says.

And that was just…well, fair, actually.

“Huh,” you say brilliantly, struggling not to cough on your own exhale and bidding adieu to any dreams of looking cool in front of all the fucking fashion models around you. “You know, I did wonder when you’d get in trouble with your boss about the free drinks thing. And the drinking on the job thing. And the this on the job thing,” you say, frowning as you contemplate the joint.

You offer it up to the men and Soap takes it, your hands brushing long enough to send a little fizz through your blood.

“You’ve known each other long, then?” he asks, taking a puff. Turning a vibrant shade of red as he heroically—and futilely—tries to hold in a cough.

“Oh, we go way back,” you say very sincerely. “I helped her bury the body of her ex-husband years ago, a mafioso named Jimmy the Janitor because he cleaned up, if you know what I mean.”

“I met you two months ago. And I’m a lesbian,” Kat contradicts blandly.

“I didn’t know that, either!” you exclaim, smacking her in the shoulder. “What the fuck, dude, I would have tried flirting with you ages ago.”

“You’re not my type,” she says devastating, and Ghost snorts when you dramatically mime a dagger to the heart. The joint glows red between his full lips, crossed with scars that shine silvery in the moonlight and trail up beyond his mask. Exhales in one long, smooth breath and looks suitably smug about it, the fucker.

“I do seem to remember you saying something earlier about me being ‘so hot I give you hives.’” Kat reminds you. “You telling me that wasn’t flirting?”

“Nah, that’s just being neighborly,” you beam at her.

“I shudder to think what your flirting does look like.”

“That’s the appropriate response, honestly.”

Ghost barks out a laugh and you shoot him a cheeky wink before turning back to Kat. “Alright then killer, gimmie the goods. What is your type?” you prod, hooking your ankle around her own. “Is it a black cat, golden retriever thing? I can bark, babe, just say the word.”

Soap damn near chokes on his drink but Kat only sighs, more fond than exasperated. She takes the joint and leans in, bringing your faces only a few inches apart. You watch, riveted, as she brings it to her cherry-red lips and inhales deeply. Holds your gaze and leans ever so slightly closer, the moment stretching into eternity as she releases a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke directly into your face. You bring a hand to your mouth, think you might actually be drooling.

“MILFs,” she answers finally, devastatingly. She tucks the joint between your fingers before patting your hand and heading back inside—as good as a kiss on the mouth from anyone else.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap's voice is rough as the door closes behind her.

“You’re telling me, pal,” you sink comically in your chair. “I think she broke me.” You’d already been drunk off the night’s joy but now you felt lightheaded with desire, literally dizzy with it.

This is not an uncommon response to Kat, you suppose. Nor, you expect, to the pretty lads that remain.

You summon your forces and sit back upright, kicking over the newly empty chair in offering. Ghost takes it, the plastic frame creaking under his bulk while Soap drops down on the garbage pail, resting his elbows on jean-clad knees. You pass around the rest of the joint in companionable silence, and it’s just…nice, all of it. The cold at your back and the heat of the lamp on your face, the fading alcohol buzz replaced by the sweeter, steadier high of the weed, always better at gentling your nerves and clearing your head. The easy camaraderie of smokers cast out into the cold, the same thing in almost every city and country you’d ever seen. You smile, thinking back on all those shared lighters and bummed cigarettes over the years. All those ships passing in the night.

“Gettin’ us a refill,” Soap finally says, standing up and snagging Ghost’s empty glass, hooking their pinkies together briefly in the action. You note it and immediately drop the thought, scalded. Know you will literally, actually combust if let your brain run-rabbit imagining the two of them together. All that muscle, all that strength, curved around each other, curved around you…

“What’ll it be, bonnie?” Soap’s warm voice snaps you out of your reverie and you flush, sure from his smirk that he can read the direction of your thoughts. You were legendarily bad at poker—couldn’t keep a neutral expression if they paid you to.

“Dealer’s choice, please and thank you,” you grin at him despite your embarrassment; turning down a free drink is against your moral code.

He gives you that shark-like smile and Ghost tsks as he heads inside. “You’ll probably regret that, birdie. Johnny’s got atrocious taste.”

“Aye can fucking hear you, you Manc twat,” Soap calls from the door, a little extra Scottish in his snark. Ghost chuckles lowly, stretching his feet out into your space.

“It’s Manchester then, our kid?” you tease, kicking your foot playfully against his boot. Leaving it there when he lets you. “Whose your fighter then, Liam or Noel?”

He considers for a moment. “Liam. I like his spunk.”

“’A man with a fork in a world of soup,’” you quote, nodding approvingly. “I get that.”

You toy with the Altoids tin and debate lighting up another one.

Ghost fishes a pouch of rolling tobacco out of the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and holds it up questioningly. “Clever boy,” you praise, and he leans forward to pass it to you, big hands dwarfing your own. When he settles back in his chair, he tangles his feet with yours properly and you feel a little flutter low in your belly.

You prep the blunt in a practiced motion, balancing the tin on your knees as you sprinkle the peaty tobacco overtop the flower evenly. “I’ve always been more of a Blur than Oasis fella, myself,” you finally offer to distract from the weight of his gaze. “Damon Alburn, the man you are,” you say, putting a fervent hand to your heart.

“Oi, we talking about the Gorillaz then?” Soap calls out, juggling glasses as the door shuts behind him, muffling the chatter from inside. “Fucking choon after choon, them,” he declares, dropping back onto the pail.

He passes Ghost a rocks glass filled with an inch of amber that matches his own, his eyes tracking where your tongue runs across the filter paper, wetting it. He trades you the finished smoke for a glass with something alarmingly orange in it, another plastic sword stuck with three cherries laid across the top.

You sniff skeptically, all sweet and citrusy and strong. “This must be off-menu.”

“Dive bar innit, no menu to be off of,” Soap points out, and you smile at the familiar response.

You take a curious sip, looking up in surprise when you taste a bright splash of orange and vanilla across your tongue. “That’s fucking incredible,” you say, eyes wide. “What is it and why haven’t I been having it all night?”

Soap grins at you, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. “Had a feeling you were a lass that’d enjoy a slow, comfortable screw against the wall.”

Ghost groans, and you squint skeptically at Soap. “Who doesn’t, what’s that got to do with my drink?”

Soap laughs, delighted. “That’s the name of the drink, bonnie. A Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” he says with emphasis.

Ah. Well. That’s—oh, motherfucker. “Does Kat know that?” She’s probably laughing her ass off inside, the sadist.

“Oh, aye. She seemed amused. Though she made an unnerving amount of eye contact while stabbing the wee cherries,” he says, eying the garnish. “Scariest fucking thing I’ve seen in a minute. Put me in mind of someone we know, actually,” he says, giving Ghost a wry look as he takes a sip and sets the glass down.

He pulls out his own lighter to coax the blunt to life, a battered Bic with SOAP scrawled in thick, Sharpied letters. He lets out a pleased sigh as the opaque smoke curls through the cold air then leans forward to rest his elbows back on his knees.

“Now, as for why you weren’t getting it slow, comfortable, or otherwise before now, I couldn’t say,” he tells you, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “But I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re more than happy to provide for the rest of the night. Isn’t that right L.T.?”

“Right enough there, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice is closer to a growl, setting off a delightful curl of heat in your belly.

You nibble on your straw and pretend their attention isn’t going straight to your head, twice as good as the drink or the drugs. “You know what they say about variety and spice of life. Might get bored with just a screw against the wall. Got any thoughts on horizontal surfaces?” you tease, enjoying the way Ghost smirks around the blunt.

But oh, is that a dimple you suddenly see carving out of one scarred cheek? Before you’re even conscious of it you’re balancing one hand on his knee and leaning in for a closer look. “I adore your dimple,” you tell him sincerely, undoing any hope you had of appearing cool and hard-to-get. “It is very cute.”

You give him a businesslike pat on the thigh and start to pull away, but he catches you gently before you get too far.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he purrs, petting over the soft skin of your wrist with one gloved thumb. “We’ll keep you entertained, don’t you worry. Bored is the last thing you’ll be, right Johnny?” Ghost says, squeezing gently once before letting go. You try to play your delighted shiver off as one of chill, but you suspect your violent blush isn’t selling it.

“Oh, I fuckin’ swear to it, L.T,” Soap answers, winking at Ghost before unfolding his big bulk from the garbage can. “We’ll give you what need, bonnie, promise. Starting with this.” Then his arm is around your waist and you’re in the fucking air and—

Oh, that’s not so bad, actually.

Soap sinks into the lawn chair and settles you across his lap, surrounding you with delicious warmth and a scent like whisky and salt air. Your brain goes a bit soft and cottony for a moment and you latch on to the gentle pressure of his arms. Manhandling has always been a shortcut to your most devastated self, the kind of stupid and sweet and sated that you’ve only found once or twice through chemistry or luck or sheer fucking determination, and it bodes very well for the night to come.

Besides, for all he wears only a bomber jacket, the Scotsman is radiating heat like a furnace and it’s the perfect sensory foil to the plummeting temperatures, a few clouds coming to fleck the sky.

“Saw you shiver. Couldn’t let our girl be cold now can I?” Soap says, chucking you under the chin like a kid. Should be stupid but you fucking like it, can’t help but smile up at him. Can’t remember the last time someone treated you so sweet, like you were something to protect. To indulge.

Ghost’s eyes are fond on the pair of you, reaching out to trap Soap’s feet the same way he had yours a few moments before. One of his hands reaches to splay possessively over your thigh, resting it there and turning your insides liquid.

There’s no reason it should be as easy as it is, getting all wrapped up in each other as the night stretches on and the clouds continue to gather, chatting quietly and smoking through the rest of the blunt and finishing your drinks just as the first fat, fluffy flakes of snow begin to fall.

You watch, delighted, as the storm kicks up in a sudden flurry, a magical, glimmering coat that turns the world into one whole thing. Untouched and perfect and silent except for the tides of your breath and the slight hum of the heat lamp, small sounds within a vast, quiet night.

You sigh in Soap’s arms, totally and unexpectedly content, luxuriating in the way your blood hums in anticipation of the night’s inevitable conclusion.

People asked if you got lonely, sometimes, travelling the way you did. Never staying anywhere for more than a few months, only occasionally breezing through past towns for a few loved-up reunions before the wind starts pressing at your back.

And though it’s true you’ve been seeking a place of your own, a place where you could belong, this, too, means something. To have these beautiful, fleeting moments of connection with once-strangers, to lose yourself completely in the headiness of such quick intimacies, no less passionate or kind or devastating for their brief duration. All those countless moments of connection—romantic, sexual, platonic—coalescing into a kind of soft sweetness to hold on to long after you’ve forgotten a name or had a face grow fuzzy with memory.

All of that sweetness is swirling inside you as you nudge Soap’s chin with your head, drawing his attention from where he’d been conversing softly with Ghost, one hand petting absently at your waist.

“Take me home?” you ask softly, and his eyes melt at the question, his hand coming up to thumb a little desperately at your mouth.

“Oh, the Cap’n would love that,” Ghost drawls. “Fall arse-over-tits over a sweet thing like you walking through the door.”

“My home,” you clarify, though you’re not opposed—especially if their friend (captain?) looks anything like them. “I live like four blocks that way,” you chuck a thumb vaguely over your shoulder.

“Well why didn’t you say so, bonnie’,” Soap says, standing up and dumping you on your feet. Before you can be too offended, he grabs your chin and presses his mouth against yours, searing hot and leaving you breathless when he pulls away too soon. You look up at him a little dazed and he pets his thumb across your chin, grinning. “Ghost is right. Too sweet for your own good, darlin’. T’wouldn’t be right for us to let you walk home alone, sweet thing like you. Not in a neighborhood like this.”

“Au contraire mon frère, I’m fast as shit,” you tell him, narrowing your eyes. This occasionally happened when you got crossfaded in particularly the right way, became possessed with the urge to tear off down a darkened street, drunk on the feeling of wind against your face and your heart hammering in your chest. Feeling like you could fucking fly. “No bad guy’s gonna catch me, no way.”

“That right, little rabbit?” Ghost moves as silent as his name, a sudden warmth at your back without you even noticing he’d left his chair. He curves that big body around you, nipping at the soft skin at your neck and caging you in against the firmness of Johnny’s chest. “Gonna let us chase you?” he near growls.

The thought sends goosebumps rising along your arms. To be wanted, to be chased. To be caught. Ghost groans when you lean back against him, tipping your head back to nip at his jaw in return. “Home. Now,” he commands lowly, pulling down his mask.

You can’t help your shit-eating grin as you tug them through the door and the thinning crowd to collect your long-abandoned things from the bar.

Kat eyes the three of you suspiciously. “If I find cum anywhere on that fucking patio I will have your balls in a bear trap,” she threatens.

“No promises,” you wink at her, laughing when she flips you the bird. You shrug on your coat and pick up your bag, which Ghost immediately appropriates, slinging it over one shoulder. He ignores your amused tug on the strap, looking over your head to plot the swiftest exit.

“Don’t wait up, babe!” you say, blowing a kiss to Kat as Ghost tows you and Soap toward the door.

“Call me if you need help burying the bodies,” Kat offers in response, and you cackle at the uncertain looks the late-night crowd shoots you both.

And then it’s just the three of you and the cold and the night, pressed together like you’re one body in the snow-crowned streets.

#call of duty #ghoap #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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hikakuriyyu · 2 months ago

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Scream men as a soft yandere (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: jealousy, implied !murder!, posessiveness, female!reader. not proof read.

⁎ summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would act if they were a yandere.

⁎ author note: thank you guys for all the support ! i got one more headcanon and i'll move on from scream. i am writing a anon request right now ! :)

Billy Loomis

If you're out with friends, Billy will casually ''drop by'' to check in, telling you he just wanted to see you. He'll stay close to you, keeping you by his side at all times. If anyone starts to take up too much of your attention, he'll try to put your attention back to him, reminding you that he's there.

While you are out with your friends, you laugh at one of the jokes they made while Billy was sat next to you. A few moments later, he slips his arm around your waist. He flashes a fake smile to your friend before turning to you, ''I missed you.'' He stays close for the rest of the conversation, his hand lingering as a silent warning to anyone nearby.

When you're upset or going through a rough time, Billy will be right there, pulling you close and whispering that he's the only one who understands you, the only one you can be with. He'll listen to you and basically gaslight you into thinking he is the only one for you.

After you vent about your day, Billy gently takes your hand and looks into your eyes. ''I'm here. You don't need anyone else... right ?'' his voice is warm, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like he is indeed the only one who truly understood you. It's comforting. Exactly what he wanted.

He'd always make sure to give slight warnings to people he saw as a threat to your relationship. Perhaps a guy who was staring at you for too long or when somebody gets too close to you for his liking. He'd be very discreet with the warnings he'd give.

When your friend touched your shoulder in a friendly way, Billy catches up with them afterward, blocking their path with a casual smile. ''I’d keep some distance from her if I were you.'' he says in a low voice, his eyes turning cold. The message is clear. No one gets close to you without his permission.

Stu Macher

Stu would always be around you, seeking your attention and approval. He'd act like your personal hype man, getting over excited about everything you do. If he feels like you're not paying attention to him, he'd playfully sulk or even resort to exaggerated antics to keep all eyes on him and you. Because in his mind, no one else deserves your attention except for him.

Stu shows up unexpectedly at your favorite hangout, waving and grinning as he calls out your name. He right next to you, wanting you catch him up on everything he missed. If anyone else tries to talk, he abruptly interrupts them, making sure he keeps your attention on him. ''C'mon, it's way more fun when it's just us.'' he says, giving you that familiar smile.

Stu would have very bad mood swings. He'd be his usual goofy self, but suddenly turn possessive if he someone is trying to come between you. His cheerful nature would return as soon as you give him reassurance, but anyone watching might feel uneasy at how quickly his mood changes when it comes to you.

You're chatting with someone when Stu suddenly pulls you aside, his expression a little darker than usual. ''What's so interesting about her ?'' he asks, trying to play it off with a laugh, but there's a hint of edge in his tone. Once you reassure him, he relaxes, grinning and wrapping an arm around you, back to his usual self as if nothing happened. But you catch the dirty look he gives the person you were talking to before you leave.

Stu would joke around about ''keeping you all to himself'' or make comments about others ''getting in the way'' but there would be a hint of seriousness in his tone. While he'd brush it off as a joke, his possessiveness would be clear, especially when he laughs just a little too long.

Stu drapes an arm over your shoulder, watching as someone tries to approach you. With a laugh that's just a bit too loud, he mutters, ''They better watch themselves, huh ? Wouldn't want anyone getting in our way.” He grins, leaving you wondering if that was really joke.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would have a habit of watching every little detail about you. He'd know your class schedule, your favorite spots, and even memorize your favorite foods. If you happen to change your plans or mention something new, he'd be the first to know. He'd never directly admit it though.

You're surprised when you mention a new movie you wanted to see, and Mickey immediately pulls two tickets from his pocket with a casual grin. ''Already got us seats.'' he says smoothly, as if it's a total coincidence. But the way his smile tells you he's has been paying very close attention. Maybe closer than you realized.

Mickey would always be on edge when it comes to your safety. He'd insist on walking you home, sending texts about every 5 minutes, and questioning anyone who gets too close to you. If he senses someone is giving you unwanted attention, he'd intervene. And the person he said he'd ''talk to'', mysteriously disappears the next day.

Walking together after class, you notice Mickey glancing over his shoulder every few minutes, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. When he noticed someone was looking at you for too long, his grip tightens on your waist. ''Some people just don't know how to mind their business.'' he murmured to himself, already planning to take care of the person.

Mickey would be very intense in his affection, doing anything to prove how much he cares. He'd bring you gifts or show up unexpectedly just to remind you he's there. But beneath the charm, there'd be vulnerability in his gestures. Like he's afraid of losing you. His entire happiness relies on keeping you close.

One evening, Mickey shows up at your door with a small gift bag and that charming smile of his. Inside, it's filled with little things that only someone who really listens to you would know you love. He shrugs casually. ''Just thought you could use a pick up.'' His eyes are so fixed on your reaction that it feels like he's studying every expression, almost as if he needs the reassurance of seeing you happy.

Charlie Walker

Charlie would secretly collect stuff from things you had lying around or things you've touched. A pen you dropped on the grond, your hairtie, even a napkin you used. He'd tuck these away like small treasures, creating a hidden shrine that only he knows about.

You leave a study session at Charlie's place, and after you go, he carefully picks up the pencil you left behind. With a soft smile, he adds it to a small, hidden box in his room, where he keeps little things that remind him of you. He runs his fingers over the items, each one carrying a memory that makes him feel closer to you.

Charlie would stalk on you. Like following your social media or always knowing where you are. He wouldn't comment much, just liking posts But he is always aware of what you're up to, but never enough to be obvious about it.

One night, you post a picture at a new restaurant. Within moments, Charlie texts you, asking casually if you're enjoying the food. ''Didn't know you liked that place. Let me know if you want company next time !'' he writes, acting as though he just happened to see it. You don't know, but he already knew exactly where you were.

He'd frame his actions as concern, subtly making you rely on him by helping you with homework, offering to lend his favorite books or movies, or even inviting you over under the guise of study sessions. Over time, he'd make it seem like he's the one who understands you best, all while gently isolating you from others.

You mention struggling with an assignment, and Charlie offers his help, insisting he has all the right resources. As you work together, he subtly dismisses advice from other classmates, saying things like, ''They just don't get it like we do.'' His calm reassurance makes you start to rely on him more, and bit by bit, you feel like he's the only one who truly understands your needs.

Ethan Landry

He would always be by your side, no matter where you go. Whether you're at school, walking through a crowded hallway, or sitting in a library, his presence is constant, a shadow that never leaves.

You're sitting outside, trying to get some work done, when Ethan slides into the seat next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. He doesn't say anything at first, just sits there, his hand resting inches from yours. When you glance at him, he smiles softly, eyes fixed on you. ''You okay ?'' His voice is calm, but his gaze lingers, as if he’s waiting for you to give him your full attention. It's like he doesn''t want to leave your side, not for a second.

Ethan is the perfect boyfriend in public: soft, gentle, and attentive. He'll bring you your favorite coffee, ask about your day, and always make you feel cared for. But behind closed doors, his thoughts are far more twisted. If he sees anyone he doesn't like you to be around, he would go as far as killing them. Just for you.

Earlier, a guy from your class was annoying you on purpose, trying to get a reaction from you. Ethan glared at him, his fists tightening in anger. A dark thought crosses his mind. “Don't worry, he won't bother you again.'' The sweetness in his tone doesn't reach his eyes. They're colder now, calculating. You don't realize it, but he was planning something much more sinister than you would ever expect.

Behind closed doors, Ethan would have photos of you, recordings of conversations, even small things like your handwriting on scraps of paper, all kept in a hidden journal. It's his personal shrine, a way to relive every interaction with you in obsessive detail. If anyone ever found it, they'd realize just how deep his obsession is.

You enter Ethan's room for the first time, and something feels off. His walls are covered with posters, but there's one section with pictures of you, some taken from far away, others shots from class or during lunch. You freeze, your heart racing. Ethan notices your reaction and walks over, a soft smile on his face. ''I just thought they were pretty.'' he says casually, as if it's nothing. ''Don’t worry. You're safe with me. I'm just making sure I never forget you.”

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the-californicationist · 9 months ago

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The Window (4 of 7)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 --- AO3 Link

Seeing him again had been a shock. They’d arrived late — not that you were checking on their flight or anything — and they were all a bit worse for wear. Usually, after any mission, good or bad, the flight home was cathartic. Everyone could breathe easy. They were going home to good food and infinite WiFi. It was cause for celebration, no matter how beaten and bruised they felt. But, this time was different.

Price was walking through the hangar while you were cataloging ammunition shipments, lowly desk work while your leg healed up, and he looked so small. Well, he still towered over all of the other soldiers in the bay - except for Ghost - but he just looked so pale and listless. His eyes were dull, staring at the ground, watching his feet take their steps, aimlessly driven to his next destination.

Ghost followed him, equally distracted. His mask was off, and you could see his eye-black smeared all the way down to his mouth, like he’d been rubbing his face, fretting. Gaz had looked furious. He was tossing their gear like it had personally offended him, and he railed into one of the trainees for getting in his way. His warm brown eyes had turned cold and harsh, unfeeling.

Soap was the worst. He jumped from the chopper and immediately started to scan the room, looking for you. He pulled one of the mechanics aside and you heard him asking for you by name, and as the man pointed in your direction, you hid behind the crates. Undeterred, he headed your way, so you crawled into the dark space between where he wouldn’t find you. He searched and searched, pushing aside heavy boxes and truck wheels, hunting for you. He became frantic, pacing back and forth, until Price called his name. His eyes lingered on the darkness where you were hidden, looking but not seeing. Then, glassy-eyed, he retreated, his gaze turning from desperation to unbridled frustration.

It was when you’d been trying to sneak back to the barracks that Price had found you, chasing you through the base. You weren’t running, per se, but you were moving quick enough, and you had quite the head start. He, however, was sprinting, pushing people out of his way, calling after you. When he saw the look on your face, he knew he was in trouble.

“Get back here, Sparrow! That’s an order,” he shouted down the hall.

You turned around to face him, throwing up your hands in an exaggerated shrug,

“You’re not my CO, sir.”

“Spar — Get out of the bloody way!” He shoved a trainee into the wall, pushing past him in an attempt to follow you to your room.

Price was panting, his chest heaving as he grabbed for you, his hands sinking into your soft flesh. You wrenched your body away from him and blocked him from coming into your room. He furrowed his brow and said,

“It’s Sunday. It’s my day.”

“I’m already pregnant. Your services are no longer needed,” you spat, “Much like mine, apparently.”

You tried to shut the door on him, but he blocked it with his huge shoulders, looking at you with a ravenous hunger in his eyes,

“I just got back from the fuckin’ sandbox. We can fight later, but I need you, little bird. Please.”

“And I need you to go fuck yourself… sir.” You slammed the door so hard that you thought you broke the hinges.

You listened to the handle jiggle in the lock from Price’s audacity. Then, silence.

Why was it the silence that hurt the worst?

Soap was at your door that night, banging on it, shaking the frame,

“Bonnie! I ken you’re in there. Lemme in. I jus’ wanna talk to you. Bonnie?”

Silence again, and then there was a slow, wiping sound against the door, like a big palm being slid down it.

“Sparrow? Please.” His voice was so strange. It seemed small. Usually, Soap was the loudest, the most boisterous. And now, he sounded ill.

You listened at the door, hurt and angry, but missing your men. Hearing Johnny beg was almost enough to make you unlock it. Almost.

Over the next week, they all tried to get back in your good graces. Gaz brought you flowers no matter where you were. He covered your desk with them, and you kept throwing them out or giving them away. He left them outside your door, sitting in the hall, complete with little handwritten cards:

I’m so sorry, baby. Please text me? - G.

Come to the main hall? We just need to talk. - G.

You ripped his notes up and tossed them in the trashcan irreverently.

Johnny had been a little less subtle. At the end of a long day, he’d be waiting outside your door, sometimes alone, sometimes with the others, trying to get you to listen to him,

“C’mon, bonnie. Dinnae shut us out. Please, lass.”

You had become an expert at the cold shoulder.

Ghost, fitting with his quiet demeanor, wouldn’t beg. In fact, he wouldn’t say a word. But, he followed you everywhere, haunting your office, stalking you at the gym, sitting at your table during briefings. One time, he cornered you in the elevator, riding with you past his own floor, his eyes burning into your skin.

And then there was Price. Other than his presentations during mission briefings, you hadn’t heard his voice since that very first day. But, he was always around. His smoke gave him away. Your room reeked of his tobacco, and when you were working, you’d smell it in the air. But, when you’d look up to spot him, he was nowhere to be found.

That didn’t mean he failed to reach out to you. He was always on your phone. He called you every morning when he woke up, and he called again every night when you went to bed. You never picked up, but as you lay in bed watching his smiling face pop up on your home screen again, this time, you did.

You didn’t say hello. You just waited to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him again. Anything. Just a hello.

“Sparrow, it was me. It wasn’t them. You have to forgive them. I was the one who —”

You hung up the phone and cried into your pillow hard enough to make yourself sick.

After that night, things got so much worse. Your emotions were raw, and everything made you terribly sad. Your body was in desperate need of someone to care for it, and your hormones were going absolutely haywire. You were either nauseated or horny, and there was no warning which would hit at any given moment.

You found yourself sneaking out of work early, hiding in the shower, furiously coming on your hand over and over, thinking - wishing - that it was Soap's or Gaz's mouth instead. When you lay in bed at night, you desperately ground your hips into your dildo, riding it like you wanted to ride John and his men, wanton and soaking your sheets.

Eventually, you had reached your limit, and you met Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the mess hall. They were all sufficiently apologetic, and they were curious as to what had changed your mind.

“Dinnae get me wrong, lass. It’s been hard without you, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… why are you forgivin’ us?”

“Price told me what he did. He said it wasn’t your decision to take me off the team.”

“That’s not true,” Ghost refuted, earning himself a swift nudge from Soap and a glare from Gaz.

“Shut up, mate. Do y’know how long it’s been since —” Gaz hissed, but Ghost interrupted him.

“The captain was the one who fought to keep you on the task force. He was out-voted.”

“Out-voted? There’s only four of you. Should’ve been at draw…” you observed.

“Exactly. We all voted against him. You’ve no bloody business on the field right now, and you know it. You can barely sit here with us for ten goddamn minutes before you’re sprintin’ off to wretch in whatever can’s the closest.”

You averted your eyes from him, trying to process what he was saying, and feeling the sting of shame when you had to admit that he was right. This first trimester had been an absolute nightmare. You were a sweaty, puking mess here in the offices, and you shuddered to think of feeling this way out in the Urzikstani sands, getting shot at, eating nothing but MREs and instant decaf coffee.

“We just wanted the best for you, birdie,” Gaz reached out for your hand and held it in his, “We know how badly you want this baby, and we…” He looked at the others for a moment and said, “And we’ve fallen in love with you, Sparrow. We can’t lose you. Let us take care of you.”

You were so tired, and you needed to release the tension you’d been holding inside of your chest, so you relented.

They followed you back to your room and sat you on the bed, kissing you so deeply that you could feel their hunger. They’d been waiting for you.

All of them were dripping with precome, and you watched as it stained the thick canvas fabric of their pants, making you wonder if they’d even touched themselves in the time they were apart from you.

They began to strip themselves and you, kissing every bit of your skin, leaving purple marks from their aggressive desire. Gaz held your hand to his crotch and rubbed it across the front, making you feel his hardening rod, encouraging you to stroke him. Johnny was busying himself with your pants, aching to put his mouth on your molten core, and just the thought of his tongue was enough to make you shiver.

Ghost bent to suck at your nipples, peeling your shirt and bra off in one go, and you held his head, cradling him with as much affection as you could muster, but as you looked up at you, he knew there was something wrong.

“Hey, stop.”

The others, as if burned, immediately stopped their worship of your body and looked up at you.

Ghost continued to pry,

“What is it, love?”

“I just…” You could feel yourself start to cry.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You may have forgiven Simon, Johnny, and Kyle, but you missed John. You needed him there. Without him, even their kisses felt hollow.

“We’ll bring him back to you, dinnae fash, hen,” Soap reassured you, throwing on his shirt.

“C’mon, he’s in the gym. I saw him with his bag,” Ghost followed Soap out of your door, hard as a stone and trying to adjust himself to something a little less indecent.

Gaz kissed your lips, his full mouth warm and tasting of cinnamon sugar,

“Be right back, pretty girl.”

You waited five minutes, then ten. You decided to lay down, just for a moment, and before you knew it, you were out.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but you woke up in someone’s arms, opening your eyes and watching as he lay you in the big, combined bed the five of you shared. You turned to see his face when you felt him crawl into the sheets beside you, blinking the sleep away and trying to catch your bearings.

“John?” You croaked, struggling to find your voice.

“Shh,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, little bird.”

“They told me…”

“I know. They bloody well shouldn’t have. You need them. You’re both going to need them.”

“I can’t be mad anymore, John. I’m so tired. I just want you all back. Please,” you clutched at his chest, drawing him closer to you in the small bed, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sparrow. Here. Feel?”

John’s huge cock was half-hard, and he fit it inside you, slipping it into your wet pussy, squeezing himself through you, just as he loved to do, letting you warm him up. The shock of it went right to your head, and you gasped, hiding your face in the fur of his chest, letting his arms wrap around you protectively.

“I’ll stay right here, birdie. As long as you want me to.”

“Aye,” Soap’s voice spoke up in the darkness, deep and low, “We all will. Tha’s a promise, lass.”

One by one, each of your men came back into the bed, laying their heavy arms over you and each other, bodies and limbs tangled and gripping at whatever flesh they could find.

You felt Ghost’s hand slide over your hip, resting his hand on your belly protectively. Gaz leaned over Price to kiss you before settling his arm over the captain’s ribs, his arm cradling your arm as you cuddled with John. Soap’s feet were wrapped around yours, keeping them warm.

As he hardened inside of you, John kissed your forehead softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, John.”

A part of you was still upset at how heavy-handed they had been with your independence, but you felt your smooth muscles fluttering against John’s cock, and it was getting harder and harder to hold onto the anger that you so desperately wanted to let go of.

As they all settled in to sleep, you decided to try and rekindle the bond that had been broken. You rocked your hips forward, sliding your slick body up and down Price’s fat length. His eyes shot open, burning into you with a dark passion.

“Little bird?”

Your lips found his neck, trailing wet kisses up to his earlobe, taking it in your mouth and suckling at his skin.

“Not tired, love?” Simon asked, planting his own kisses on your shoulder blades, coaxing your hips to rock back and forth, chasing your high.

“You need us, innit tha’ right, lass?” Johnny’s fingers reached over your hip, following Simon’s and then trailed down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, tight circles around it, making you soften around Price like an opening bud, petting your petals until you practically unfurled for him.

“Ungh, Garrick. What are you… “ Price growled through gritted teeth.

You watched as Kyle licked his hand and tucked it behind John’s back, heading for his tight asshole, fucking him gently on his fingers.

“Keep fucking our girl, Cap. She needs you,” Kyle told him, “I’ll take care of you, sir.”

“I’m not as patient as the sergeant is, lover,” Simon rustled under the sheets to find his cock, and he held it in his fist, pumping it against your plump ass cheek, “Will you let me in?”

You turned over your shoulder and let him kiss you, feeling his soft lips slide against yours, giving him your tongue to suck on as his hands kneaded your sensitive breast.

“Yes, Si,” you whispered, “Anything you want.”

You thought his reaction to your words was a little over the top, but Ghost was reacting to Soap, ducked below the sheets, eating his asshole, shoving his tongue deep in the tight opening, prepping him for more.

Simon tucked his cock between your legs, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on you and himself, lubing you up in a messy, frantic sort of way, too desperate to care about finding a bottle of gel somewhere in the room.

Johnny was already rutting into his lieutenant, making Simon’s cock leak and jump, excited and drooling for its own warm hole. When you felt his head touch your asshole, you sighed at the tingling electricity building there, eager to be stretched by him. Finally, he popped into your ass, and he began to fuck himself up into you, inch by inch, filling you up.

Price was grinding his fat dick inside of you, and he groaned when he felt Simon join him on the other side, making you even tighter, forcing the captain to struggle to fit.

Soon, all five of you were fucking each other at the same time, moaning and kissing and licking one another’s skin, twisted together in a wet mess, and you had never felt such pleasure before. It was as if you were all on the edge, ready to come at the faintest breath of an orgasm, waiting for the spark to ignite the whole room into an explosion of ecstacy.

“Mmf-fuck!” Simon’s hand wrapped itself around your neck, “Your fuckin’ arsehole feels like heaven, love.”

“Dinnae stop, Si. I can feel when you bottom out in her. Makes you so tight, mate,” Johnny begged him, pinching the lieutenant’s nipples between his fingers over and over, teasing him relentlessly.

“You alright, little bird?” John asked you, kissing you softly, barely dragging his lips across yours, dreamily moving against you harder and harder, chasing his pleasure, “Fuckin’ Garrick is takin’ away my stamina every time he rams into me like that. Gonna make me come too quick, Gaz.”

“Sorry, sir,” Kyle smiled, giving you a wink, as he licked and nipped at the same earlobe that you had, remembering how much he loved that spot, “Feels too good to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around John’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, “Don’t ever stop.”

While you wait for the next chapter, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

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