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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago

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Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door.

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again.

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room.

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for.

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you.

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.”

Nothing.

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer.

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?”

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand.

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over.

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts.

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside.

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking.

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled.

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie.

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were.

But he was asleep.

Right beside you.

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her.

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his.

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside.

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment.

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him.

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan.

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm.

Serene.

Rested.

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you.

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back.

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning.

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door.

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed.

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away.

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed.

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more.

Jean and Storm were right.

From the picture…they did look like a couple.

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring.

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands.

And for you, that meant finally reading.

Until you sensed someone stood behind you.

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you.

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not.

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.”

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud.

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud.

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck.

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Now I’m awake.”

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading.

And ten minutes later, you were asleep.

And so was he.

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby.

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him.

“What is it?” Then she gasped.

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile.

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire.

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her.

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October.

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying.

Save for two.

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook.

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was.

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg.

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help.

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies.

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back.

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect.

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards.

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were.

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen.

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest.

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect.

He dipped you.

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh.

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin.

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen.

And dipping you.

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you.

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background.

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say.

Had his eyes always had so much green in them?

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter.

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more.

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door.

A sneeze.

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality.

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam.

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed.

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him.

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking.

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.”

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own.

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa.

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa.

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him.

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both.

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two.

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long.

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened.

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas.

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them.

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different.

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?”

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe.

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking.

Not at the garland, but at your ass.

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down.

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up.

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away.

Then Logan gave you a real kiss.

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway.

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms.

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day.

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe.

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt.

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree.

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it.

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take.

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you.

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others.

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces.

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing.

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan.

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people.

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip.

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile.

“I knew it!”

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monstersflashlight · 3 months ago

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To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)

A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)

Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder

You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.

Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.

“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.

He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.

You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.

He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.

“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.

He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.

“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.

“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.

He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.

“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.

You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.

“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.

“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.

He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.

“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.

He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”

You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.

Problem is… You never do.

The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.

And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.

He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.

Until one day all shifts (pun intended).

You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.

“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.

He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”

“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.

He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.

“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.

And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.

“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.

You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.

“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.

“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.

There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.

“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.

You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.

You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.

They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.

You are caged once again.

You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.

The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.

When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.

He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.

“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.

“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.

“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.

It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.

As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.

“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.

He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.

“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.

“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.

“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.

“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.

“Make me fully yours,” you say again.

His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.

Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.

He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.

“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.

He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.

You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.

“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.

He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.

From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.

“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.

You pass out.

When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).

He feels perfect.

1K notes · View notes

7s3ven · 10 months ago

Text

ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”

Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)

—

“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.

He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.

The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.

The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.

Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.

This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.

“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.

“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.

“Y/N.”

Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.

Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”

Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.

He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.

“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.

Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.

The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.

“He talked about me?”

“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.

“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.

“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.

“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.

“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.

“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.

“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.

“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.

“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.

Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.

Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.

Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.

“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.

“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.

“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.

“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.

“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.

“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.

As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.

Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.

Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”

“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.

“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.

Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?

Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.

“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.

“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”

From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.

Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.

“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.

“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.

“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”

“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”

“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”

“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.

It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.

“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.

“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend

The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.

Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.

Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.

“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.

“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”

“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.

“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.

Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.

Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.

“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.

“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”

From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.

“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”

“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.

“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.

“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”

“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”

“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.

“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”

From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.

“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.

“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.

“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.

Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.

“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.

“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.

“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”

“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.

“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.

“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.

Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.

“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”

“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.

“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”

Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”

“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.

“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.

“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.

Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.

“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”

Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?

“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.

“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”

“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”

“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.

“I don’t care about her.”

“What about the drinks?”

“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”

“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”

“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”

“And if she never wants to learn?”

“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.

Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”

Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”

To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.

That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.

“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.

“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.

“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”

“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.

“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”

“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”

“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”

“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.

“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.

“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”

“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.

Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.

Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.

“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.

“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.

He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.

As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.

If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.

Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll talk to him.” She said.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”

“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.

“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”

She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.

“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”

Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.

“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”

“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.

“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”

“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.

“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”

Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.

“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.

“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.

“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.

“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.

“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.

“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.

“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.

“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”

“I needed an excuse to get away.”

“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”

“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”

“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.

“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”

It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.

Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.

“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”

“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.

“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”

Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.

“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.

“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.

“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.

There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.

Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”

Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.

He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.

“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.

“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.

“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.

“And you need me to something stupid?”

Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.

Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”

Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.

“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.

“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.

“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”

Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.

“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”

Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”

“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”

Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.

“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.

“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”

Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.

“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.

With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.

She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.

“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.

“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.

“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”

Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.

“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.

“I study.”

“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”

“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.

Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”

Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.

“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.

“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.

Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”

“You still upset with me, love?”

“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.

He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.

“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.

“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.

He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”

“You noticed all of that… about me?”

“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”

“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?

“I do.”

“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.

“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.

“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“What about the cat, Theo?”

“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”

“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”

“I won’t.”

“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.

“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”

4K notes · View notes

dalamjisung · 3 months ago

Text

A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6339

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.

a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter

His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George.

You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.

“Excuse me.”

You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.

Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.”

His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that.

It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged.

“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop.

“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”

“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself.

“Spencer Reid.”

There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk.

Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day.

Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations.

It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.

“Oh my god, don’t!”

You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?”

The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”

The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates.

“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk.

You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression.

The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety.

Your book is here.

It’s Y/N, by the way.

He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable.

But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do.

That day, you don’t get a message back.

You get a call instead.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too.

“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”

Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”

The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“

“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”

For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”

This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”

“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher.

“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”

“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call.

By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.”

“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”

“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.”

“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”

In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“

“Thank you.”

At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.

You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?”

Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”

“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”

“And with bribery, I like your style.”

His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with.

The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?”

You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript.

The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on.

Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house.

A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky.

“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”

How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him.

The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding.

“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would.

The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore.

“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”

That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee.

After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.

It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.

“Y/N!”

You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same.

His voice. It’s not the same.

Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you.

When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.

That’s when you see it.

More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you.

Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”

“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“

“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away.

“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“

“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you.

“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.

The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.

“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.”

Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section.

“What just happened?”

“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”

It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help.

Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”

“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”

“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.

“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”

“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”

“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”

“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”

In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“

“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”

“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”

Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?”

“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“

“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“

“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”

It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”

The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"

“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”

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AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3

Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!

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navybrat817 · 4 months ago

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You're a Firework

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're all set to watch fireworks with the gang and Bucky can't keep his hands to himself. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, semi-public sexy times, pet names, inner monologue, established relationship, humor, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I KNOW it's Steve's birthday, but my muse demanded Stud and Smartie. ❤️ I'm so sorry, lovelies. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You know,” Natasha began as she handed you a drink. “You and Bucky could've had your wedding today. No one would have objected.”

“With Steve's birthday right around the corner? And take away from Sam’s amazing barbeque? No way,” you smiled, stepping out of the way as Clint walked by with sparklers in each hand. You refused to take attention away from either of them. “I’m glad we’re all hanging out though.”

Today was a good day. Not only was the weather as close to perfect as it could get, not too warm or too cold, it was a chance to get together and mingle since everyone had a few days off. Between the sunshine, food, and games, the gang had a lot of fun. You imagined your wedding reception would be fun, too.

Maybe the two of you could even have sparklers to celebrate, if only to entertain Clint.

“Bucky called you his wife earlier,” the redhead commented.

“He did?” You smiled, your heart swelling.

“He did. When you beat Sam at horseshoes, he looked right at Steve and said, ‘that’s my wife' with a huge smile on his face.”

Yeah, I am. Almost.

You nearly swooned, giving your fiancé a glance as he set his chair by the fire pit. “And that’s my husband.”

Natasha lightheartedly rolled her eyes and nudged you. “Better go and join him then. The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, heading to her seat beside Clint. The town was shooting off fireworks in the nearby park, but you all decided it was better to hang back. The yard was a great spot to view them and no one had to worry about the crowd.

“Be right there,” you said, shivering as a light breeze rolled in. Sam had the fire going, but you hadn't realized how chilly it was now that it was dark. Grabbing your blanket from your bag nearby, you also realized as you walked over to the gang that there wasn't a place for you to sit. Bucky looked your way with a gentle smile and patted his thigh before you could ask if there was an extra chair available inside. You caught a glimpse of heat in his eyes as you made your way closer.

You loved that look.

“Is that my seat?” You asked.

“This could be your seat.” Bucky pointed at his face as you bit your lip. If everyone wasn’t around, you’d consider it. “But this one might be more comfortable to watch the fireworks,” he added, patting his massive thigh again.

His face. His thigh. Both were incredible places to sit.

“Yeah, comfortable. That’s the word,” you teased, shrieking as he dragged you onto his lap once you were within reach. You were lucky you didn't spill your drink. “Easy, tiger.”

He growled and nuzzled your neck once you situated yourself and placed your drink the cup holder. “This tiger will also keep you warm,” he promised.

“Aww. You two are just the cutest,” Sam said, swigging his beer with a chuckle when Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, we are. And in case you forgot, my girl kicked your ass earlier. Beauty, brains, and brawn,” he boasted. You didn’t have to look back to see the smug smile on his face. “Proud of you.”

I will not get giddy or aroused from that praise.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get you next time,” Sam scoffed, looking over at you with a smile to let you know it was in good fun. He was a good guy, like Steve. You hoped they each found someone who made them feel the way Bucky made you feel.

“Or she’ll kick your ass again,” Bucky said without skipping a beat.

Oh, boys. So endearing. So competitive.

“Enough of that. Sam, I’m pretty sure I got lucky and I’d love a rematch. Stud, you just concentrate on keeping me warm,” you teased, draping the blanket over both of you. His embrace was always warm. “Surprised we don't have s’mores.”

“Those are for after the fireworks,” Steve said from the other side of you.

You smiled over at him before tilting your head back to gaze at Bucky. You weren't sure if the guys did it on purpose, but they each wore the same tight fitting T-shirt in patriotic colors. They all looked handsome, but your man looked look sex on legs. The love of your life would always turn your head.

“Not for us,” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his hand rested possessively on your hip. “We’re going to bed.”

You giggled and snuggled back against him when the rest of the gang protested. “But what if I want a s'more?”

“I’ll personally make you one and feed it to you in bed,” he half growled.

“You’re really not going to stay up with us?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure something will get up,” Natasha deadpanned, making everyone laugh. She wasn't wrong.

“On your birthday, we’ll stay up as late as you want. Tonight, we’re watching the fireworks and going to bed,” Bucky grumbled, brushing a finger over your engagement ring. “Unless you really want to stay out here.”

You giggled again. Bucky had to share your attention with everyone all day and was still sharing it now. He was more than ready to have you all to himself. You understood the feeling.

“I’m fine with going inside after the fireworks. We’ll check on the cats and then go to bed,” you assured him.

With everyone drinking, you all decided it was better to crash in the same place instead of going home. Neither of you wanted to leave Alpine or Soot at your place though in case any neighbors decided to shoot fireworks off the roof, so you brought them over. They had a space set up under the guest bed with some white noise to help block out some of the sound. Anything to help put them at ease.

Bucky tilted your chin a bit more to place a soft kiss on your lips, the tension crackling like the fireworks had already started. “Thank you, Smartie.”

“You’re welcome, Stud.”

As if on cue, the show began.

You looked up at the sky in awe as the first firework rushed into the air. An explosion followed by a vivid display of light, they were like rainbows in the night brightening the darkness with color. They were beauty and wonder, a form of art that faded almost as quickly as it was created. Watching with loved ones made it all the more special.

You tilted your head and smiled when you caught Bucky staring back at you. “Why aren't you looking at the sky?”

“Why aren't you?” He teased, bumping his nose against yours. “Besides, I don't need to watch the sky when I have the most beautiful view right here.”

Your cheeks warmed. So did your heart. “You flatter me so,” you whispered, looking back at the sky again.

Bangs, crackles, and thunderous sounds continued to fill the air with the gorgeous display. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You almost regretted not having your phone beside you so you could take some pictures.

Though you likely would’ve dropped it when you felt Bucky’s hand move from your hip to under your skirt.

“Stud?” You gasped, quickly looking around as his hand trailed up your thigh. No one was looking your way. They were too occupied with the fireworks.

“Just keep looking at the sky, Smartie,” he said against your ear, your legs opening more as his hand found its prize. “And I'll keep touching you.”

Oh, fuck.

You shivered in his grasp despite the blanket and his body providing more than enough heat. His touch was possessive yet tender and you could feel your body turn to jelly as he rubbed you through your panties. You tried to concentrate on the colors above you, the material damp from his expert touch. And you couldn't stop your heart from pounding in your ears, adding the explosive noises around you.

More fireworks went off, but you blocked out the “oohs” of your friends as he pushed the wet fabric aside. “Bucky,” you whimpered, biting your tongue when he traced a finger along your slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he whispered against your neck, teasing your folds. Your hole clenched before the fingertip even touched it. “I can't believe you’re mine. Keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

I’m the lucky one.

His finger breached you, making you gasp and grip his arm. His palm pressed against your clit and you couldn’t help but push your hips down, seeking out more friction. You wanted to take care of him, too. Maybe when the two of you went to bed…

Another finger slipped in, curling and thrusting quickly. If you were at home, he’d take more time in taking you apart. He wouldn't stop until you soaked the sheets and even then he might keep going. And he'd make sure you were a quivering mess, mewling and begging for mercy or reprieve.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, babydoll?” He asked, static pleasure coursing through your body as you climbed higher.

Orgasms were a lot like fireworks. Some tumbled slowly in the sky, like a slow fire that coursed through your veins. Others exploded, so large and powerful that you couldn’t keep the sounds of awe in. Then there were small bursts, the ones that got the job done and still felt good.

You wondered what kind of orgasm Bucky would give you tonight.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, colors dancing behind your eyes as you shut them.

You wanted to shout how much you loved Bucky Barnes. You wanted your love for him to burst through the sky like a shooting star. But you didn’t need to put on a show for him to know you were his. He knew you belonged to him.

But you’d still have to try and keep quiet as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered, ready to fall over the edge as his palm rubbed your clit again.

Your head turned and his mouth slanted against yours to swallow down your moan. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his fingers curling once more as you listened to his command and watched the colors light up his blue eyes. “And come for me.”

Your walls pulsed as the finale began, your cry drowned out by the rapid booms. Your wetness coated his fingers, every nerve cell vibrating as brilliant hues illuminated the sky. The hues swirled in your dizzying head, too. You were flying. Sinking. Floating.

You were a firework.

“Beautiful,” Bucky whispered, guiding you back to him.

Your body stayed lax against his, wishing he didn't have to take his fingers out. “You’re beautiful,” you exhaled, watching him subtly bring his hand to his mouth to taste your release. “Menace,” you added.

This man. I really just let him finger bang me with everyone sitting around.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiled, placing another kiss on your lips as Steve and Sam got up. Natasha and Clint were already up, too, to get more drinks.

If anyone knew what happened, they didn't draw any attention to it.

“Those were even better than last year,” Sam said.

“They were. And now we can have s'mores,” the blonde smiled, stopping to look at his best friend. “I thought you two were going to bed.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said, shifting his hips under yours to let you feel how hard he was. Getting you off turned him on. “Think I need to relax a bit more.”

Yeah, so no one sees you walking around with a raging hard-on.

You wiggled your hips, smiling when your fiancé quietly groaned. “Yeah. Relax,” you sighed, feeling him squeeze your thigh in a warning.

Well, he wanted your attention before and now he had it.

And I’ll make him see fireworks before the night is over, too.

Stud and Smartie need to talk to my muse and make sure Steve has a good birthday. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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boyczar · 2 years ago

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#so much clarity it’s crazy #everything is making sense now i honestly just feel sad #what can you do when you see that someone you care about desperately needs help but they can’t see it?#especially when they push you away for acknowledging that they might have any faults at all #i wish i could find a way to say all these things that i’ve come to realize with the guarantee of not hurting anyone’s feelings #but what can you do when people aren’t able to be receptive to the truth bc it cracks their concept of reality #or threatens their view of themselves ?#i can understand how hard it is to have someone hold up a metaphorical mirror up to your face and force you to look #and not just look but SEE how you really are #and it doesn’t mean that they hate you #and i know that can be hard to understand too #but i’ve been forced to confront a lot of awful aspects of myself bc of the circumstances i just happened to go through #which sucked and i hated it when i was going through it but now i’m so thankful for it #i still have A LOT to work on that i really want to change #but i’m glad that i have the framework and receptivity to accept my faults and correct them over time #i know that i can’t make anyone feel the same #i can’t force people to take criticism and understand that there’s still love & care behind it but i wish i could #i feel like i’m watching so much self destruction & such a strong cycle of dysfunction wreck the lives of those i care about #i feel helpless & i hate it. i wish i could offer my insight with sincerity & know that it won’t be taken the wrong way #i have no condescension or arrogance in my corner just a lot of concern & anxiety about what will unfold #and what has already unfolded right under my nose? why wasn’t i braver sooner? why couldn’t i recognize all the pain & dysfuntion ?#i feel guilty that i didn’t try to help before it was too late #& here i am now excommunicated from anyone who used to care about me #which i understand is also part of the plan #how much worse is this all going to get before something good erupts from it?#& it’s something that i know will happen #if it doesn’t that means i’ve failed & i don’t know how many lives would be ruined because of it #ugh #back to my research to figure this shit out further #mine

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bellatrixscurls · 1 year ago

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exquisite weather today, no? | part i

warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.

summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?

a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3

“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.

“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.

Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.

When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.

Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.

“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”

Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.

Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”

Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?

“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”

Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”

This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”

“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.

“He towers over me?”

The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.

“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”

At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.

In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”

And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.

His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.

Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.

“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.

When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”

Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.

“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.

“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”

At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.

He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”

Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.

Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.

“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.

He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”

“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.

“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.

“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.

“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.

You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.

A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

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dearsnow · 5 months ago

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YOUR BAR BOYFRIEND

- after being harassed by a drunken stranger, your bar boyfriend swoops in to save the day (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is intended to be on the quieter/more introverted side, but if you’re not like that you can ignore that one line ⚠️ verbal sexual harassment, drinking).

PART 2

word count: 1,206

a/n - tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACKKKK!!!! i’m so glad to be back to writing, y’all have no idea how much i missed it. i’ll probably be a bit rusty until i find my rhythm, so please ignore the not-top-quality writing until then. also, feel free to send in requests or chat!!

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You utter apologetically, side-stepping the arm of the man in front of you. He reeks of beer and a hard day’s work, his scruffy face all too unkept in the lighting of the bar. You can’t even fathom exactly why you’re in the bar in the first place- you’ve never been one to explore, but this man is making you feel like you never want to leave your house again.

Your eyes scan the room, but no one seems to notice your predicament. The bar is full of Navy men, surely one of them would be fine with pretending to help you. “C’mon, sugar, one drink. Thas’ all ya have to do. If it goes well, hey, I wouldn’t mind one fuck either.” He grins, winking. The hope that you held in your heart is quickly dissipating. “He don’t have to know.” You feel your stomach drop as he moves to grab your hand, but an firm grip shoves his fingers away instead.

“Honey, is this guy bothering you?” A voice behind you speaks. You quickly turn around.

“I… yeah.” You stutter. You’re staring right into the face of a guy in a uniform, his jaw set as he glares at the drunk through his glasses.

He moves in front of you, creating a physical barrier between you and the significantly shorter man. Relief floods you. “Then I think he’d better leave before someone kicks him out, huh?”

The intoxicated man rolls his eyes, but frantically shuffles out the door of the bar. His gait was evidently terrified.

The tension is pulled from your shoulders, and you unintentionally sigh. The guy with glasses turns around to face you. His expression is softer now that the threat is gone, and his concern is almost cute.

“Are you alright?” He asks. “I’m sorry for the pet name thing, but I overheard you and I couldn’t really just stand there and watch. I’m Bob, by the way, Bob Floyd.” He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and as you do, his hesitates through his rambling.

You smile at him. “Thank you, Bob, I’m fine. And I don’t mind.” His grip is firm but not crushing, just like his presence. You introduce yourself, and he nods like he’s desperate to commit the sound of your name to memory. The respectful tone is honestly a breath of fresh air with the raucous energy of the Hard Deck, causing your cheeks to be a few degrees warmer when you pull your hand away. Our of the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his somewhat clammy hands on the sides of his pants.

“Also, I’m sorry for taking the place of your actual boyfriend. I assumed you just didn’t know where he was, so I stepped in.” His eyes search for your own, holding steady eye contact. They’re the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I don’t actually have a boyfriend, but I thought a lie was the better choice. You saved me, and that’s all that matters.” Your voice has a certain breathy quality to it. You’ve completely transitioned from terror to being deeply attracted to the person who spared you an even more intense confrontation. Bob’s eyes widen just slightly.

He takes his hands away from his sides and motions to one of the tables in the corner, his face just the slightest bit pinker. “Would you want to sit down?”

You nod, and he leads the way. As he’s pulling out your chair for you, you can’t help but wonder how your night turned out this way. You went from having the worst night of your life to dizzily encountering the person you could only describe as being your bar boyfriend.

You just recently moved to this part of San Diego for a newfound job opportunity, completely unaware of your proximity to the Hard Deck and a Naval base. You didn’t know anyone or anything, and as someone who isn’t necessarily very outgoing, it was hard for you to adjust. Not even your coworkers were easy to make friends with, so you slowly became more and more isolated.

The bar was kind of your last resort. You didn’t expect to find anything great, and you still don’t know what compelled you to go, but some hidden part of you figured that at least you could get some form of entertainment. Finding Bob, though, you never expected.

Conversation feels easy with him. He seems like a quiet guy, but he knows exactly what to say to keep you talking, and he offers insights of his own that just further the subject you’re talking about. Words fly from your mouths, and you can say that you’ve never enjoyed talking more. You bounce from common topics like work and hobbies to deeper breakdowns of memories and experiences, your smile growing wider every second. You’re completely in a world that was built brick by brick for you and him.

You’re so lost in the moment that you don’t even notice the woman who rests her hand on the back of your chair until she speaks. “Bob, you of all people? Never would’ve expected you to abandon us for a pretty girl.”

Bob reddens as you turn to face her. “Sorry, Nat.”

She holds a hand out to you, which you shake. “Call me Phoenix. He’s my backseater, and apparently a lady killer tonight.”

Bob stands as Phoenix gives him a pointed look. “Sorry to steal him away from you, but he’s taken way too long of a break from our pool game. I’ll give him back to you later.”

“You say that like I’m a robot.” He grumbles, showing just a hint of disappointment at having to leave your conversation.

You wave him away. “Have fun, Bob. I’d better go anyways.”

“Wait-“ he starts as you stand up, “-could I give you my number first?”

You secretly cheer inside of your head. You nod, and he takes a pen out of his shirt pocket. “Here.” He mumbles, writing it on a spare napkin and handing it to you. His fingers brush over yours, sending electrifying sparks throughout your entire body. You could get used to this feeling, you think. His hand hovers for a split second before regretfully moving away. “It’s, uh, it’s up to you, but I’d really like it if you called or texted. I had a nice time with you.”

You tuck the napkin into your bag, eyes soft. Bob thinks he’s never seen a sight so beautiful- the sun is setting behind you, and it casts you in a golden light as your mouth quirks up. “Of course I will. I had a nice time with you too.”

Your voice is quiet, but a sound that he relishes all the same. He could’ve gotten lost in you if Phoenix wasn’t impatiently tapping her foot next to him.

She pulls him away, and though he knows he’s up for a lot of teasing, Bob can’t find it in himself to care. He just knows that he needs to see you again, and you know that no matter what, you’ll make it happen.

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru

word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___

For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game. Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.

Even though neither of them had any interest in going. It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own?

Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them. Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day. Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.

They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.

Still, they did their best to participate. Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to. (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain. They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time. They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games. Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!

“This is fun, right?”

When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear. His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.

She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to. It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends. He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype. (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye. She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.

With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more. “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said. It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game. He didn’t need to know that part. “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.

Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard. (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.

“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.

Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking. Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.

“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.

Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring. Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.

Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen. (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.

Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again. Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action. However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.

She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen. The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them. It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.

“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.

The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes. Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.

Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts. This was like a dream come true. The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.

Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval. He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n). Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.

His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n). His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.

“Are you okay with-?”

The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.

(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko. It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.

They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face. And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.

It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens. The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.

(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in. Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.

That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.

To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone. He scowled back at her. She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!

With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands. He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.

Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention. He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors. She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.

“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field. “You wanna go after him? Be my guest”

(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.

“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters. “What even happened?”

Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.

“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off. “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?”

With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea. A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.

When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.

Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off. Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves. It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next.

To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands. Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.

“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively. Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.

“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.

“Sure,” She remarks. “You’re totally not pouting right now. C’mon just fess up. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not pouting. My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) frowns.

“Betrayed you?” She repeats. “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?”

Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically. (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.

“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!”

He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor. (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.

“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her. “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested. “You’re mad about a kiss?”

“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.

(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear. Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing. Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.

“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up. And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-”

“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?”

Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away. (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.

But he’s completely frozen in front of her.

“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality. “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.

“I- I just… I meant that-”

Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was. He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular. He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.

The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what. It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.

“Sorry,” She apologizes right away. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?”

She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.

Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight. The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.

“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of. Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back. “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-”

“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.

“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly. She giggles, nodding her head again.

“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades. She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face. “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked”

“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically. “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!”

She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.

“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested. “I know there’s not any cameras… but…”

Satoru raised a brow.

“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head. He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.

She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his. Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away. She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.

His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating. She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes. It makes her smile to know first hand.

When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.

“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.

“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead. He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose. “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?”

There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats. As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.

“Then sit on my left next time” ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru brainrpt #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru friends to lovers

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wanders-in-wonderland · 2 months ago

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Smile for the Camera

It’s 10pm sharp when I start my stream. I’ve always been on time, always with my makeup on flawlessly, hair styled perfectly, and bedroom set curated just right to show my pretty pink sheets and collection of toys.

I smile and wave at the camera, tossing my hair back to reveal the pink lingerie set I’ve chosen for tonight.

“Good evening everyone! I’m sooo glad to see so many of you tuning in!”

The chat inbox floods with greetings from my audience and there’s an influx of money that comes from my particularly generous viewers. I giggle and flirt with my viewers, many of whom who have become regulars in my viewership population.

Someone in the audience asks for a strip tease and I feel my pussy pulse in response, looking forward to a night of performing for my devoted viewers.

I start slow, running my fingers up and down my body, brushing gently over my lingerie-clad nipples and whimpering loudly for the microphone to pick up. My eyes stare into the camera, all of my thoughts melting away as I fall into my role of entertainer.

Teasingly, I pull along the shoulder straps of my top, letting the fabric fall away from my chest to show off my perky tits and hardened nipples that are always a fan favorite. My hands dance over my chest, pulling gently at my nipples in a way that makes my moans completely genuine. My eyes glance to the screen and I see the excitement building in my chat box, and my account balance steadily rising.

Suddenly, I hear the lock on my door click and my body goes cold. The door to my room is out of the video shot, behind my camera setup and before I can even react, the door slams open.

I let out a startled yelp as my arms instinctively cover my chest. In the corner of my eye, I see the chat go crazy as my audience tries to figure out what it is they’re hearing but not seeing off screen. My attention is wholly focused on the man whose frame fills my doorway.

I scramble off my bed. “What the fuck? Why are you in my house?” My voice is shaking with fear and shrill with panic. I’m far too preoccupied to even think about the livestream anymore.

My fear deepens when I see him leer at me and stalk through my door and towards me without any hesitation.

“A fucking whore like you should be more gracious to me,” he says, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. He and I are both in the camera’s view now and the viewers on my stream are firing off more messages than before, speculating over who he is and what is going on.

Without saying anything else, he moves to me faster than I can evade and grabs my hair. My mouth opens to scream but before sound can escape, he throws me chest down onto my bed. The air is forced out of my lungs and for a moment, I’m still and stunned. The next moment, he’s on me.

His hand is buried in my hair, keeping my face pressed down against the bed while he forces my ass up into the air. I struggle uselessly against him, unable to push up off the bed or move myself away from his ironclad grip. My cries are muffled against my bed and I want to scream and yell for help but there’s not enough air in my lungs.

His free hand lands a sharp slap against my ass that make me jolt forwards and arch my back further in pain. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to land blow after blow. My arms begin to flail, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto as I struggle.

“Stop fucking moving, whore,” he growls at me. I feel the spanks subside for a moment and I can feel my ass burning red and throbbing from the pain. My head spins from the abuse and the lack of oxygen. I feel his large hand find my wrist, his fingers locking around me in a bruising hold as he yanks my arm behind my back, straining my shoulder.

The hand on my head finally comes away and I raise my head just enough to gasp in much-needed oxygen. In that split second, he’d grabbed and secured my other arm behind my back as well, his one hand effortless holding my arms crossed behind my back. My body is still bent over, knees on the bed and ass up in the air. My only saving grace is that I can raise my head enough to breathe and glance at my laptop, showing the livestream still ongoing.

My eyes dart across the screen, reading messages as fast as I can. None of them show any concern for me, in fact, a vast majority are discussing how much they wished they were the ones holding my body down in this moment.

“Fuck yes, show that whore her place.”

“God, what would I do to be there to punish her for always teasing us.”

“I bet her cunt is dripping wet right now.”

I whine softly when I see that message because it’s right. “Please, let me go!” I turn my head to look at the menace of a man behind me. He flashes a dark grin at me, “Not until I fuck you out of your whore mind.”

His words echo in my head and panic rises within me. “Please! No! Stop! Someone help me!” I make eye contact with the camera, begging at its cold, dark lens.

He laughs behind me. “There’s no one here to help you, whore. You and I both know that every single person watching behind their computer screen is more than eager to see your whore body get ruined.”

As he speaks, his free hand pulls his belt and pants undone enough for him to pull his massive cock out. I let out a choked gasp when I see it.

“Wait, no, please, you’re too big, it’s not going to fit! Please!” My voice shakes and I start to struggle harder against him. His body dwarfs mine and I watch through the camera as he rips my panties off, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, whore.” I feel the head of his cock brush against my dripping slit and my eyes widen.

“Wait, please-” My begging ends in a wail as he slams himself into me to the hilt. The painful stretch makes tears spring into my eyes but unimaginable pleasure quickly follows as his cock nudges into every sensitive spot inside of me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to rut into me mercilessly.

Every thrust makes my body shake with pain-tinged pleasure and pathetic moans are spilling out of my mouth as my eyes roll upwards. My hazy vision catches a glimpse of us on the camera. I look like a rag doll, back arched, ass in the air, and shuddering as he towers over me, his cock sinking into my cunt.

Every thrust is accompanied by the squelch of my wetness and the sound of our bodies slamming into each other. The bed creaks under us as his body moves like a machine, drilling into me. “Fuck, you tight fucking whore, your pussy was made for me huh?”

His voice is guttural. Suddenly, he grips my upper arms and yanks me upwards. His other hand comes around to grip my throat as he traps me against his front. The new angle makes his cock stab even deeper into me, forcing a cry from my lips.

“Look at the fucking camera, whore. Show them what a fucked out little slut you are. Go ahead, smile for the camera.” His thrusts seem to come even faster now.

I have tears falling from my eyes as my face reddens from his constricting grip around my neck.

“Smile or I choke you out on my cock like this,” he snarls, hips never stuttering in their punishing pace. I let out a muffled groan and try my best to focus myself enough to obey.

I stare through half-lidded eyes at the camera, barely coherent. My lips pull up in a small, desperate smile as I feel myself gradually running out of air.

“Good fucking whore. Now tell them how much you like having your whore cunt fucked.” His hand leaves my throat and goes to pinch my clit harshly, making me squeal.

“Ah- I like having, ah-, my whore cunt fucked!” My voice is hoarse, my orgasm fast approaching as he starts to roughly roll my clit between his fingers.

“That’s right, and you’re going to cum like this aren’t you, whore? Come on, cum all over me, show them how much you love this.” His words combined with the brutal assault on my body push me over the edge and with a desperate wail, I fall apart.

I hear him groan lowly behind me as my pussy clenches around him, my orgasm ripping through my senses. He uses my body harder than ever, treating me like a sex toy as he chases his own release. He slams himself into me one final time as he erupts, his grip bruising my arms as he keeps me in place.

I collapse against him, a boneless, overstimulated mess. He lets me down gently onto the bed, pulling out of me. The sound of his cock squelching out of my pussy makes my viewers more than aware of how well-fucked I am. He steps away from the bed and towards my filming setup. He leans into the camera and smirks.

“Let me know how else you want to see this whore fucked. If your idea is good, maybe I’ll let you come and enjoy her too.” With that, he shuts the camera off and closes out of the streaming site.

My body is still limp on the bed. I feel him settle next to me and pull me close before brushing my hair away from my forehead and kissing my nose.

“Do you think they liked me?” His murmurs.

“They loved you,” I say, breathless and drowsy from what we just did.

“I hope so, I wouldn’t want my debut on your stream to make a bad first impression,” he says, frowning down at me a little. It makes me let out a soft laugh.

I tilt my head up to kiss his jawline, “Only you would fuck the life out of me on livestream and then worry that you did a bad job.”

I giggle again and he grumbles back at me, “Shut up and sleep, I’ll clean up.” His kiss on my forehead is the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.

#nsft concept #dark fantasy #cnc k!nk #tw noncon #rap3 fantasy #cam grl #exhibition kink #aftercare #size difference #size k!nk #breathplay #bimboification #fsub #mdom #rough kink #rough cnc #roughfuck

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theotherbuckley · 2 months ago

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Tommy’s dad dies on a Monday.

He checks his emails on a Wednesday. There’s an email from his aunt. It’s only a few sentences. She was always very succinct and to the point.

His dad is dead.

It was a heart attack.

Bastard didn’t even suffer.

He stares at his laptop screen until the words start to blur together. For an hour, he just sits there, looking at his computer but not really seeing anything at all. His coffee is long since cold. He never even took a sip.

His mind feels empty, like there’s this fog that’s settled inside, clouding over his thoughts. He’s stuck. His brain doesn’t know how to process this, and neither does his body.

So he stays frozen. Just staring.

He doesn’t notice the time until he feels large arms wrap around him from behind.

“Tommy?” Evan asks. It doesn’t sound like the first time he’s spoken.

“I—“ The words are stuck in his throat.

Tommy turns around from his chair, blinking a few times, until he manages to say, “My dad died.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s all it takes for Tommy to break.

He opens his mouth, closes. Shakes his head.

And he just—

Cries.

Full body-wracking sobs overcome his body as he slumps into Evan’s open arms. He shakes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrows his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He’s getting snot and tears all over Evan’s shirt but his boyfriend doesn’t complain, just squeezes him tighter as he continues to be overwhelmed by his emotions.

He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He just can’t seem to stop.

He cries and trembles in Evan’s arms until he’s run out of tears left to shed. Evan murmurs sweet nothings into his ear, holding him tight and never letting go.

“I’ve got you. I'm here,” Evan whispers in his ear.

He feels like he’s run a marathon by the time he’s calmed down enough to pull back from Evan. His hands shake as he wipes the tears from his eyes, Evan’s own warm hands coming to hold his.

“I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m cry—crying,” Tommy hiccups. He’s sure he must look a mess, red-faced and covered in tears.

Evan gives me a soft look, a small comforting smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.

“You lost your dad. You’re allowed to cry,” Evan says kindly.

Tommy just shakes his head. “But he wasn’t— he wasn’t good.” He has an awful, vile human who never gave two shits about him. Only cared about him being a man, enlisting, stepping up. He doesn't understand why his chest still aches like his loss matters. It doesn't. It doesn't.

Evan wraps his arms around Tommy. He’s practically sitting on him, but Tommy doesn’t mind. Not when it’s Evan.

“He— He was a big part of your life, Tommy,” Evan says, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “And now he’s not. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Tommy just nods, collapsing back into Evan, who rubs gentle circles on his back in comfort, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He lets his boyfriend soothe his pain with his touch. He wishes it didn't hurt in the first place. Still doesn't understand why it does. He hated that piece of shit.

He's glad he's dead.

He hiccups as another tear makes it's way down his cheek. Evan squeezes tighter.

“Is there a funeral?” Evan asks softly.

Tommy almost laughs. “There’s no one who cares enough to give him one. He doesn’t even deserve one.”

“But you do,” Evan says sincerely.

That gets Tommy to look up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You deserve to have the closure,” Evan continues. “It’s a lot better than trying to pretend you’re alright when you're not. Trust me.”

“You lost someone?” Tommy asks. Evan’s never talked about it, but maybe—

“No, no. I just know what it feels like to— to bottle your emotions up when it comes to the people who are supposed to love you.”

“I’ll speak to my aunt about a funeral,” Tommy says. Evan gives him a soft smile and a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him close again, Tommy wasting no time to burrow into the corner of Buck’s neck, soaking up the comfort of his boyfriend.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his shoulder.

“I love you,” Evan repeats back.

#bucktommy #911 abc #911 fandom #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #purple writes #tevan #911 fic #911 ficlet #bucktommy fic #bucktommy ficlet #dailykinley

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daisyvisions · 8 months ago

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Change Your Mind - (l.jy)

➺ Pairing: fboy best friend!Juyeon x afab!reader

➺ Summary: You befriend your college’s resident fuckboy who’s been eager to get with you since day one. But after a rollercoaster of emotions between your friendship, he wants you more than you could ever imagine.

➺ Word Count: 4k (wow who is she?!)

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), friends to lovers, mentions of partying, drinking alcohol, fuckboy tendencies (flirting, hookups, ghosting), lying to reader (at first), lots of kissing and making out, dry humping, oral (f! receiving), slight handjob and masturbation, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby), a lovesick Juyeon

➺ A/N: I’m officially back from my break! Really wanted to take some time off and focus on things irl, can’t really say if the break helped bcos I was still stressed haha but anyway!This took me a while to finish up, felt incredibly rusty writing again but glad I was still able to do it 😭 Considering this as my late birthday greeting for Juyeon. Hope you enjoy this piece! Proofread once. Let me know if I missed anything!

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet, and my girlies @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez

If anyone told you that you’d end up becoming best friends with one of the most sought out guys in your campus (and not to mention resident fuck boy), you would’ve laughed at their face. All your life you’ve tried to avoid befriending guys like Juyeon. A guy like him just generally gave you the ick.

You never understood how or why people would want to be friends with someone whose only objective is to get into girl’s pants and be praised for it. Not only that, but also playing with someone’s feelings and just dropping them at an instant was wrong on so many levels.

But here you are, lending him a helping hand while you two clean out his living room after throwing yet another one of his bi-weekly parties, which was usually code for “Please let me at least make out with someone tonight.”

It’s crazy how you consider him one of your bestest friends. In another world you both knew this friendship would never work out. You were both opposite of each other in so many ways!

So how did you even end up becoming friends with Juyeon?

Transferring to a different university in the middle of the semester was one of the worst things that could've happened to you. Not only did you have to adjust to a new set of lesson plans and navigate your way around campus, but you also had to sit alone during lunch since practically everyone already knew each other from freshman year and had their own set of cliques.

During your first week, you thought you could at least find a table you could sit with just by going up to the group you vibed with the most and ask politely. But you decided to just sit by yourself instead and avoid any embarrassing introductions. You refused to be known as the weird new girl (which you already felt like one to begin with.)

You tried to fight off the tears emerging from the corners of your eyes as you sat quietly in the corner of the cafeteria, slowly poking the food on your tray as you try to drown out the noise around you.

You wish you didn’t have to transfer and leave everything and everyone you knew behind. Yes, you can still call or text your friends, but you knew it was different than actually being with them on campus.

You were convinced you’d be alone for the rest of your years in college. No friends to hang out, laugh, or cry with. No one to go through the same struggles as you. No one to tell you that everything was going to be okay. You were definitely on your own until-

“Hey.” The voice suddenly snapping you out of your self-loathing as you look up and see probably one of the most handsome men you have ever seen in your life.

The way his eyes held so much love, how his smile could light up anyone’s day, and how his aura was something you never felt with anyone before. He was practically radiating sunshine to your already gloomy day. It almost felt too good to be true… Because what the hell was he doing here in front of you?

“…Hi?” You sit up straight as you try to subtly dab off the tears in your eyes.

“I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone.” The man gently says.

Great, the first thing he notices about you is how much of a loser you are. But before you could even say anything back he continues on.

“Would you like to come sit with us? We have some space for you at our table.” He slowly smiles at you. You hesitated at first, confused by the whole situation but quickly made up your mind.

“Uh… yeah, sure! If it’s not any trouble.” You shyly respond.

“Of course not! Can’t let a pretty thing like you be all alone on her first week here right?” He holds out his hand to you.

“How did you-”

“I’m Juyeon.” He interrupts you again. You tell him your name, your cheeks slowly warming up as your hand intertwines with his as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He smirks. You felt the butterflies raging within your stomach.

“So, let’s go?” He waits for your response, but you shyly nod your head instead as proper words get caught up in your throat. Grabbing his hand as you stand up and follow his lead.

You try not to make a fool out of yourself as you feel Juyeon’s hand rest on your lower back as you guides you through the sea of people. As you two are walking towards his table he leans close to your ear and whispers,

“We’re gonna be best friends, I promise.”

And ever since that day Juyeon really did keep his promise. He helped you catch up with some of the lesson plans you had, guided you around school, and always made sure to leave a space for you beside him during lunch.

You tried to wrap your brain around the idea of how someone like Juyeon just randomly entered your life and swept you off your feet. At first you felt like you were on cloud nine getting the most attention and almost boyfriend-like treatment from him. But as the weeks went by you soon discover that his reputation actually preceded him more than you thought.

You see, it was no secret that Juyeon was somewhat of a playboy. Well, somewhat was an understatement. During the first few weeks since you became friends he would walk you to class almost every time. In those moments you couldn’t understand why people would give you such weird looks or whisper to each other whenever you two would pass by.

Maybe it was because you stuck out like a sore thumb as the new girl? You decided not to mind it for a while, pushing down the thought that you were just overthinking all of this… that is until you accidentally learned about his reputation and the real reason why he approached you that day.

It was an accident. You were never meant to find out anything about Juyeon. But during a party that he brought you to, a certain loosed-lip drunk friend (Eric) decided to spill everything to you, down to every letter and detail imaginable.

To be honest, it didn’t bother you when you found out that Juyeon was indeed a fuck boy. You saw the signs as the weeks passed by.

The way he would flirt with someone while waiting for you to finish class, how the notifications on his phone would show a name of a different girl every week, and even the subtle touches he would leave on you which were definitely not considered friendly but not perverted either. What bothered you the most was finding out the reason why he even wanted to be friends with you.

“He’s been really working up to have his way with you, you know? And I mean who could blame him? Have you seen yourself? You’re so fucking hot-” Eric rambles on to you as he tries to lean his body against the wall to keep himself upright, slowly inching his way closer to you. You felt your blood boil in that moment, completely ignoring Eric’s advances.

How could Juyeon do this to you? Even after everything you shared with him about your life, your struggles, your secrets too? And to think you were starting to feel like he could be a really great friend to you. But this? Hell no. You were not about to let some handsome sleazy guy use you like that. Not in this or any lifetime.

You nearly crush the plastic red cup in your hand before storming out of the house, intentionally pushing past Juyeon’s shoulder in the way as he tries to approach you with the most concerned look you had ever seen on his face.

He ran after you that night. He even dropped on his knees begging for forgiveness in front of a crowd of drunk college people too. Over the top sure, but somehow you knew his apology wasn’t just a one and done thing.

And after the humiliating lecture you gave him as well as the list of promises he had said he will be doing in order to make up for his mistakes, you decided to give him another chance.

In return of accepting his apology, you offered to help him get out of his fuck boy tendencies and be his “guardian angel”. Juyeon was reluctant of the idea at first because it would mean he couldn’t be free to do as he pleased but he eventually gave in. He had to because well… He did owe you a lot for lying to you in the first place.

Somewhere in your mind you knew this could turn out to be a bad idea. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, or however the saying goes. But Juyeon was different.

You knew somewhere in that deep conceited mind of his there was a version of him that was actually a good guy. A guy that can actually learn how to not fool around and maybe one day, find someone worth changing for.

You can tell it was a struggle for him at the beginning. But eventually he started to lessen the flirting, the hookups, the ghosting, and more.

Gone were the days where Juyeon had a line of women wrapped around his fingers (because they were too many of them to count). Dating was still a thing for him, but he had said and even showed you that he would take them seriously and not just move onto the next one as easily as he did before.

Eventually you realized over time that Juyeon turning over a new leaf was also becoming a struggle for you especially at parties when he would come up to you nearly drunk out of his mind, his subconscious would revert back to his old habits and he would act them all out on you.

His hands subtly snaking around your hips, your waist, how he would brush the hair off your neck and leave a warm kiss on shoulder. The way he would smile at you like a lovesick fool, never leaving your side as he attempts to drop his corny pickup lines.

Or the way he would jokingly confess how badly he wanted to kiss you. You knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind, that he was just being his old self. But it really did confuse you because sometimes it felt all too real.

Now you understood why someone could fall so easily for Juyeon. It was second nature to him.

You tried so hard not to give into his appetite especially in those moments. But it was becoming difficult each time since you the crush you had on him from the first day you met was screaming to be set free, desperate to overtake your heart and soul and just allow him to do as he pleased, no matter the consequences.

The many “what-if’s” that crossed your mind when you were alone in your room at night had plagued you constantly. Your walls were starting to crack and it was making you lose your self control around him.

“Maybe one little kiss wouldn’t hu-” No. You shouldn’t. The whole point of staying friends with Juyeon was to guide him to being a better person. It wasn’t about you or how you felt at all!

But… how bad could it be to become selfish just one moment in your life?

“Wow, I’m so tired.” Juyeon plops down on the sofa as you finish up collecting all the empty bottles and cups around the room. After the last bottle was thrown inside the trash bag you washed your hands and plopped right next to him.

You instantly close your eyes and let out a huge sigh of relief, showing the same exhaustion as he felt. As you stay silent and enjoy this quiet moment, Juyeon can’t help but just stare at you. He watches how your chest slowly moves up and down and tries to commit to memory the little details of your face.

You look so beautiful right now, he thinks to himself. As you always have since the first time he saw you. But he pushes down the feeling deep within his gut, having given up pursuing you a while back. But it doesn't hurt to look every once in a while right?

As soon as you open your eyes again, you catch him staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. You chuckle at how silly he’s being and turn your body slightly to face him.

“What?” You ask.

“I-It’s nothing.” He shakes his head.

“C’mon, what is it? You can tell me.” You semi pout, and how can Juyeon say no to you?

“I was thinking-”

“Oh no he’s thinking.” You fake gasp and giggle as he playfully nudges your shoulder in return.

“It’s just- I still can’t believe how we ended up as friends despite everything, you know?” He smiles gently.

“Me too.” You respond, “To be honest, if I had known about your reputation before we met I would’ve rejected you that day.”

“Yeah?” Juyeon’s eyes grow wider as he scoots closer to you. He places his hand on your knee, making you become nervous all of a sudden. “And why is that?”

“W-well…” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the way his cologne invades your thoughts and has your head slowly spinning. Is it getting hot in here or is that just you?

“Because, guys like you just aren’t my type that’s all. And well-”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Juyeon interrupts you as he looks into your eyes. You nod in response.

“I haven't been with anyone else ever since that night you confronted me about my behavior.” He pauses for a moment. Dead silence filled the air as he waited for your response while you tried to grasp what he was trying to say.

“Huh? What about that girl you were with last week? Or the one you were texting?” You softly ask.

“I... I lied about them.” Juyeon looks away from you, afraid to look at your reaction. He looks up at the ceiling, pushing down any regret he’s feeling at the moment admitting the truth to you.

“But, why?” Your voice laced with concern.

“It felt wrong to be with those girls. To even think about kissing or touching them the way I would've back then, because…” He looks back at you, his hand on your knee now traveling up to your lap.

“…All I ever thought about in those moments was you.”

You felt your heart running a mile a minute. Eyes widening at his sudden confession.

“God you’re so beautiful it kills me inside.” he raises his hand and cups your jaw, thumb slowly stroking your cheek as his gaze turns into something more than just lust.

You subtly catch him quickly looking at your lips, your eyes nearly fluttering shut as he leans in closer. And with your lips just millimeters apart, he suddenly stops.

“But who am I kidding? I know you don’t see me that way-” Juyeon retracts his head, his face expressing a certain kind of sadness you can’t seem to properly label. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you watch him slowly slip away from you.

“Juyeon I-”

“It’s alright, I’m probably drunk. Just- forget what I said.” He shakes his head, but before he can attempt to get up from the couch, you grab his wrist. “No.” You sternly say.

Juyeon slowly sits back down on the couch and scoots really close to you, thighs pressing against one another. His eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for what you have to say or do.

“S-show me. Show me you mean it. Every word you just said.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that.” Juyeon lunges forward and wastes no time as he leans in to kiss you. His pillowy lips feeling like heaven as he guides your lips with his, both melting into one another like it was always meant to be.

As your arms start to wrap around his neck Juyeon pulls you in closer, his body slowly falls backwards onto the couch. His hands desperately grabbing your hips to make you straddle his lap.

Juyeon whimpers into your mouth as soon as his straining bulge rubs against your core. His member throbs harder as you begin to roll your hips subconsciously.

He’s fucked way too many times to count but for some reason, grinding yourself onto his crotch makes him feel like an untouched virgin all over again.

He swears he can burst inside his boxers any second now if you keep doing this to him, especially with the soft little moans coming out of your mouth that sound so sweet.

Juyeon pulls away from your lips and starts to kiss your neck, mapping out his kisses until he finds the spot that makes you melt into a puddle. He knows he’s found that spot as your moans become louder and drag on longer.

He starts to wrap his arms around your torso and without warning, he flips you both over, making you squeal as he giggles at your reaction. His eager hands waste no time to unbutton your jeans as he continues to leave marks on your neck. You slightly push him away as you feel him slowly sneaking one hand into your pants.

“Wait-” You grab his wrist before he goes any further.

“Do you want to stop?” He waits for your answer.

“No it’s not that.” Your eyes close for a moment as you catch your breath.

“It’s- well- It’s been a while I've since done this. I- I might not be good for you.” Juyeon senses the worry in your eyes. He leans down to kiss the space between your eyebrows, his free hand caressing your cheek.

“Oh sweetheart… you’ll always be too good for me.” He smiles down at you. “You sure you still want this?” You nod your head instantly.

“Use your words baby, need to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” His hand travels to your neck and gives it a soft squeeze. The act alone is enough to get you dizzy again.

“Want you- want you to touch me, please.” You look up at him so innocently.

Juyeon leans in to kiss you passionately once more, his tongue immediately intertwining with yours. He helps you out of your pants in the process not wanting to pull his lips away from yours until he tugs the hem of your shift and lifts it off, leaving you wearing nothing but your underwear on.

His kisses start to travel oh so slowly from your lips all the way to your inner thighs. Juyeon can feel himself pre cumming at the deep inhale of your panty covered core. The wet patch luring him in to kiss it and practically mouth your covered folds.

You let out yet another ethereal moan as your fingers weave through his hair. His hands slowly pull the garter of your underwear down, throwing the damp material behind him as he continues on with his ministrations.

Juyeon wastes no time and grabs the back of your thighs and placing them over his shoulder, making sure that his face is locked onto your throbbing core. He kisses your folds before suddenly darting his warm wet tongue between them, reveling in the taste of you before flicking your sensitive bud. He looks up to watch your reactions, which motivate him to keep on going.

“P-please…” You whine as he hums and sucks on your clit. Juyeon doesn’t even need you to tell him what you want, by the sound of your moans and the way your thighs slowly squeeze his head he knows you’re getting closer to the edge.

He nearly lets go himself when you reach your high without warning, the sudden burst of your essence onto his lips as you moan out his name was something he never thought would feel so divine.

He pulls himself up and goes back to kissing you, tasting yourself on his tongue has your core throbbing for him once again. Your hands hastily helping him unbutton his own pants along with his boxers as he pulls them down and kicks them to the side.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his impressive length, your hand instantly wrapping around his member as you stroke him slowly. “Oh s-shit.” He growls into your ear.

“Want you inside me Juyeon, want you to fuck me.” You whisper in his ear. He grabs your wrist to stop, holding his own member as he aligns it with your entrance.

“Don’t want to fuck you-” He mumbles. You pull away from him, confused by his words. His other hand grabs the back of your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.

“-Want to make love to you.” He whispers into your mouth. And before you know it he’s pushing his entire cock inside you, bottoming out instantly. You both moan into each other’s mouths at the stretch. Juyeon moves his hips slowly as he starts to fuck you deeply, making sure you feel all of him going in and out of your pussy.

Juyeon wishes this moment could last forever, but the way your walls grip onto his member like a vice brings him closer to the edge faster than he had hoped. Especially with how you’re moaning into his mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck so tight? He was a goner.

He’s never fucked anyone like this before, and now he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else except you.

With every deep thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of cumming for the second time. Each stroke hitting that sweet spot in you has you reaching for the stars.

“Fuck Juyeon, you’re gonna make me cum again.” You whine as the wet sounds you're both making has you feeling dizzy.

“C’mon sweetheart, cum on my cock. God you can keep cumming on my cock as much as you want I don’t care.” His thrusts start to pick up the pace. “I’m yours forever.”

Those three words were enough to snap the coil within, breathing heavily as your walls flutter around his length. You’re so caught up in your own head you don’t realize Juyeon uttering a string of whimpers until you feel him quickly pull out his cock and blow his load all over your stomach.

The both of you take a moment to calm down from your highs before Juyeon gets up to each for the box of tissue on the coffee table. You watch him gently clean you up before he pulls his boxers back on to find your discarded underwear and also helps you put it back on.

He hovers above you before leaning down to leave small kisses around your face and on your lips. You caress his cheek slowly as he leans into your touch.

“Did you mean it? Everything you said?” You softly ask him.

“Down to every letter.” He responds. “But… I think you broke me.”

“Broke you? How?” You playfully scrunch your eyebrows at him.

“Don’t want to see myself with anyone else now.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow. “And how should I fix it then?” He smirks and kisses you again,

“Let me take you out on a date and we’ll call it even.”

#deoboyznet #juyeon smut #lee juyeon #juyeon #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #tbz hard hours #kpop smut

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coldfanbou · 1 month ago

Text

Be Sure Of It

Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.

Length 3.2K

Eunha X Mreader

You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.

“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.”

You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”

“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”

“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.

Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished.

“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.

“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?

“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly.

“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”

“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”

Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park.

Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”

“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”

Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly.

You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.

That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.

A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace. While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex.

You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces—a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.”

“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously.

The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.

“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”

You nod, “I said I would.”

Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice.

You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”

“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.

You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.

Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out.

Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat.

Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again.

You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips.

Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”

“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.

“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down.

“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together.

“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.

“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.

“What?”

“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet.

“Those things?” You ask curiously.

“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!”

You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”

Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi.

“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #gfriend smut #viviz smut #eunha smut

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