#god i really should be writing right now but every word is a Challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lis-likes-fics · 2 months ago

Text

Is That a Challenge?

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader Word Count: 8.1k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, abo themes, omega!Spencer, alpha!Reader, (mentions of alpha!Emily) heat/rut mentions, sexual innuendos, multiple orgasms, edging oral (f! receiving), biting, claiming, praise, sub/dom themes, aftercare... A/N: This was so hard to write because I'm not really used to writing dom!Reader. I'm also not used to writing sub guys because I'm used to wanting all my blorbos to rail me so...this was new to me. I will eventually write a fic where Spencer does the railing though, TRUST! But here it is! I hope you and enjoy. Happy Halloween!

Traffic was a fucking nightmare, but at least you're here. People were moving slowly this morning for a reason unbeknownst to you. Your coffee is the only thing keeping you sane so far, and you're pretty sure it's by mere placebo.

You set your bag on your desk with a heavy sigh, saying your lazy hellos to the girls. You guess Morgan's in his office since he isn't here.

“Where's Rossi?” you wonder briefly as you switch your computer on.

“Hotch,” Emily mumbles. You hum.

“Spence isn't here today?” JJ wonders as she glances around for your boy genius.

You shake your head, plopping down in your chair with your arm thrown over the back. “No, he had to stay home,” you answer. “Not feeling too well.”

Emily turns, raising a brow. “He's not sick, right?”

You hum, tilting your head slightly. You busy yourself with your password. “Not exactly.”

You hear her before you see her. She's wearing something dangly today.

“Where is my cutie patootie?” She sounds playfully vexed. “He hasn't come to see me yet.”

“Wow, everyone is worried about my boyfriend today,” you say, turning in your chair to face all your girls.

“Well, your boyfriend doesn't miss work without plenty of notice,” Emily replies.

You purse your lips, turning away to focus on your work. You're sure there's plenty of it today. “Something came up…”

There's a very brief silence. JJ chuckles, catching your unintended insinuation. “Oh…” she says, “was that something him?”

You crinkle your nose, turning right back around to show her how unimpressed you are by her joke. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

You probably should have confirmed or denied because now they're very interested. To be fair, it was a rather inappropriate response to respond to (not that that has ever stopped any of you from prying into the other's personal lives).

Penelope’s face shifts from her confusion into something rather mischievous. “Oh. Oh! Oh.”

Emily leans forward, a smirk on her lips as she sets her elbow on her leg. “Why aren't you staying home then?”

You cross your legs, your foot over your knee to pull close to you. “Proving a point.”

“Oh,” Penelope says again. “Oh.”

“Are you going to keep saying ‘oh’?” you question, shaking your head at her.

She sits on your desk, her enthusiasm leaking out of her ears. Maybe if you let it, she'll deflate and have to go refill your air supply.

“Yes,” she nods definitely. “Because—Oh, my God. I knew you were both little freaks.”

She is way too excited about your sex life.

You roll your eyes at her. “What's freaky about me proving a point by coming to work?”

“The fact that your point–” she pokes you, “–is so freaky.”

Emily and JJ are eating this up. They've both fully abandoned their work to turn toward you and pry. JJ’s got her legs crossed, Emily's got hers spread as she leans forward. They're all holding coffee mugs in their hands in place of tea cups.

“What’d he do?” Emily asks. She's bobbing her brows.

You laugh, covering your face with your hand as you sigh. “If I tell you, you cannot tell Morgan. He will never let Spence live it down.” Poor Spencer would have to go through that every day. It's just mean.

JJ’s the first to respond. “Deal.”

“He's getting nothing outta me,” Emily nods.

“You have my silence.” Penelope pretends to lock her mouth with a key. She stuffs said imaginary key in her bosom.

“Promise?” you warn.

“Yes!” she exclaims. “My lips are sealed. That's what the key was for.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your hesitant smile as you go through the morning. “The…” you chuckle lightly. “The heat snuck up on us this morning.” Their understanding comes in various hums and mumbles. “Obviously, I'm a little hot, too. I told him I would call in to be with him, and he agreed because,” you lick your lips, effectively conveying your slight annoyance, “I'd likely ‘be too frayed to focus anyway’.”

“Oo.”

“Yikes,” Penelope winces.

You nod. “And I told him that I could last longer than him. He pulled out all his statistics, said that my ‘kind’ was statistically less controlled at this time than his. I took that as a challenge.”

JJ hums, “So would I if I were in your shoes.” She brings her cup to her lips.

“Please,” Emily scoffs. “If my girlfriend said that to me, it would be all over for her.”

You shrug. “I told him that I'd last the day without so much as a text. First to make contact loses.” You glance at your phone, searching for anything and finding nothing. “He's doing well so far. I thought he'd tap out after the first hour. He was really bad this morning.”

“Only…” Emily checks her watch, “seven more hours to go.”

It's only been an hour since you left the house. One hour. Singular.

This morning has been so slow, and it's only been an hour.

“Seven?”

You might give up now.

Emily chuckles, though she's sympathetic to your cause. “Hang in there. Make us proud.”

Penelope shrugs. “Hey, chicks before private parts and all that, but I will be rooting for Spencer. I have faith in him.” She makes a fist to show her firm stance in this race.

JJ sighs. “That's sweet, Pen, but he'll probably tap out within the next hour. I know I probably would.” She shrugs. “But it's not for a lack of trying.”

Penelope laughs at that. “And so would I, but he's strong. Right?”

You turn back around to face your computer, snickering to yourself. “You should see him in bed.”

You hold your hand out behind you. Emily smacks it before swiveling in her own chair. JJ and Penelope roll their eyes. She scoots off your desk to leave.

When your phone rings, “Penny” is shining on your screen like she's already in your face. You answer.

“I need news. Anything yet?”

You roll your eyes. She hadn't even waited for a hello. “You called me for this?”

“Has he texted you?” she insists.

Your leg starts jumping. “Nothing yet.”

It's a little frustrating. You've been here for how long? Spencer was about to burst this morning. After he'd proposed his little facts, you didn't even help him out before you left. Now he hasn't called or texted or even asked about you through any of your friends.

Penelope is ecstatic. “See?” She squeals.

“He's still got another three hours,” you say. “He'll break.”

“Oh, my wonder boy?” She giggles. “Never.”

You run a hand down your face at her support of him. It's sort of annoying because she's sort of right. Spencer is very stubborn when he wants to be. That's what happens when you know everything.

She hangs up on you. You put your phone down with a sigh and focus in again on your work. If you don't, you think you might lose (which would never happen).

“Pen?” Emily mumbles.

“Who else?”

It's the end of the day. The sun will be gone by the time you make it home. Not a single peep.

You're surrounded by the girls as you all step into the elevator. Penelope starts to say something, but you see Derek first.

“The door, the door, the door!” you whisper-shout.

You all start jabbing the close-door button, and you think briefly that you'll break it. All the boys look on, entirely taken aback by such behavior.

“Wait. Hold on!” The doors close in Derek's face.

You let out a breath of relief.

“He actually did it,” JJ smiles.

Emily shrugs, though she sighs a little. “I'm impressed.”

“No. No,” you wag your finger. “Not yet. The deal is no contact, not no texting. When I get home, he'll be all over me, and then he'll lose.”

Your annoyance is funny to them.

Penelope almost whines. “First to touch? That's evil.”

Emily doesn't sympathize. “But worth it. Gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Wait, so what happens if you win?” JJ wonders.

“Spencer has to wash the dishes for a month No questions asked.”

“Oh.” Penelope hums, then she sighs. “Underwhelming.”

Emily leans against the wall. “I thought he already does dishes.”

“He does,” you say. “Gladly, I might add, because he knows I hate them.”

The doors slide open on the main floor. They continue to follow you.

“Then what's the challenge?” Emily asks.

You shrug. “Dignity.” Your car beeps as you press on the key fob.

“Oh, please,” JJ scoffs. “It's pride. She just wants to prove she's better than him ‘cause she's an Alpha.”

You don't look at her. “Two things can be true.”

“So what's the real deal, huh?” Penelope’s voice shifts down, and her nose crinkles in a gremlin-like manner. “Loser gets down and dirty? Are we talking who'll cry first?”

You all turn to look at her. Her smirk fades a little, and she rolls her eyes with a scoff. “What? I might be rainbows and unicorns but ya girl gets down in poundtown.”

JJ’s brows raise. She smiles as she nods, “Alright, then.”

To be honest, the parameters of the deal were fuzzy. Whatever you propose, Spencer will love. Whatever Spencer proposes, you will love. You're compatible in that way.

The ideas are making it hard to pretend you've got it together.

“I guess we'll never know.” Emily leans on your car, crossing her ankles.

“Know what?”

Morgan's voice breaks the four of you from your huddle. You turn to him as he comes forth, the Hotch and Rossi in tow. He puts his hands on his hips.

“What do you mean?”

Derek scoffs, as if to say “don't play with me”. You look at him expectantly, and he just shakes his head at you. “You said you guess you'll never know.”

You continue to play dumb. It's rather fun that way. “What won't you know?”

Derek crosses his arms over his broad chest. He raises a brow at all of you, waiting for someone to break and not expecting it to come from you or Emily.

“Does it have something to do with the kid?” He glances at Penelope, and you have to fight the urge to stare her down and remind her of the deal.

But alas. “Hearing you call him ‘kid’ in this context is really tripping me up.”

“So it is!”

“Penelope!” you scold.

She winces, covering her face to hide her blush and her smile. “I'm sorry!” Everyone's laughing by now.

You sigh, turning back to Derek. “Spencer is fine. Hotch knows. He was a little under the weather this morning.”

Everyone looks at Hotch. His face is as blank as ever. Until it isn't.

It is so, so slight. But the faintest glimmer of a smirk curves his lip, and you know it's over. The traitor.

“Oh-ho!” Derek claps. “I saw that.” He turns to you. “You mean longin’ to be under those sheets?”

You think it's funny that Derek thinks he's funny.

“Good job, Garcia,” JJ laughs.

“Sorry!”

Emily pokes fun. “Hotch, what happened to poker face?”

His hands come up. His smile is wide.

“It's fine. Spence is fine,” you insist. You begin to realize that it has been all day since he's seen you, and he's probably going to lose his mind soon. “And if you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure he's doing okay.”

Derek laughs, lightly smacking your shoulder. “Go rock his world, girl.”

Penelope raises a stern finger to him, “You are in time out, mister!”

“Oh, yeah?” He raises a brow. “Well, hopefully I can be in time out with you. How's that sound?”

They both walk away cheerfully. Derek glances over his shoulder at you, waving and then pretending to zip his lips. You smile back at him. At least Spencer can live in relative peace then.

Emily nudges your shoulder with hers. “Make us proud.” Her phone chimes. You watch something in her face change as she sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Speaking of which, I have to get home.”

She leaves abruptly, making haste in getting to her car to what you believe is going to be a good night for her.

JJ laughs as she leaves. “Still rooting for Spence.”

You look at Hotch and Rossi. “He'll be in tomorrow,” you promise.

“Oh!” Rossi’s brows shoot up, and they both laugh heftily. “Okay, then.”

“Take care. Both of you,” Hotch says. “And let me know if he's still…sick.”

You purse your lips as you nod. “Will do.”

Rossi starts backing up, wagging his finger at you as he does. “You two have fun now. But not too much fun.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Gramps.”

“Hey. Respect your elders.”

Hotch laughs again. “Have a good night.” He pats Rossi on the shoulder as they both turn to leave. You open your door, stepping inside as you wave your goodbyes.

“Spence?” You peek your head past the door, looking around the living room to find him absent. “Baby, I'm home.”

When you close the door behind you, you're hit with it. His scent is everywhere. It's like he decided to rub his body all over every square inch of the house. If you weren't hot before, you definitely are now.

You press your thighs together, placing a hand on the wall to support you as you try to focus. How were you supposed to win if he has scented the whole house? You know he did it on purpose, too. He did this last time, when you actually stayed home. You didn't leave the bed for two days. (When you did leave, it was only because you got called in for a case.)

It's bad when you get to the bedroom. The door is closed, and you can smell it leaking out of the crack under the door. You think maybe you'll hold your breath when you get inside, but it seems highly illogical, so you don't.

As you push the door open, you're almost dizzy with the scent. “Oh, my,” you mutter, your eyes finding a lump in the bed surrounded by clothes and blankets. “It's hot in here. You should really open a window.”

Spencer sits up. His chest is bare, so are his legs, and you assume the rest of him. His hair is a tousled mess on his head. He looks almost precious like this.

“You're late,” he states plainly. He looks more grieved than he does upset.

“Sorry, baby. Got caught up talking.” You walk past him to get to the window, cracking it open to let some fresh air into the room before you lose. You turn to him, your hands on your hips as you smile. “Are you hungry? Been wanting to cook all day, for some reason.”

He shakes his head. He almost looks tired. His face is pinkish. “I'm not hungry.”

“No?” You lean against the side of the bed, facing him with a tilted head. “What's wrong? You look upset.”

He shakes his head weakly. “I'm not upset. I'm just… I want…” His voice is slightly slurred.

You bend down to him, so close that you can smell every little thing on him. Conditioner in his hair, lotion and sweat on his skin, you. He's almost shaking when your faces are so close that he thinks you'll kiss him.

“You look like you're burning up,” you mutter, keeping your breath shallow. “You sure you're okay?”

He wishes you would touch him. Any touch. It didn't even have to be a kiss. You could put the back of your hand on his forehead. You could brush your knuckles over his cheek. Anything.

You'd have to admit, you're wanting the same thing. But, no. He started it. You're not going to finish it.

“Please.”

Oh, what music.

You raise a brow, tilting your head to the other side. “What's that?”

“I'm sorry. I was wrong.”

You contain your grin. You play dumb, looking over his face and humming. “About what, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head. “I didn't last longer. I tried, but I couldn't.”

“That’s not true,” You see him start to lean forward. You pull back, gutting gently. “You didn't text me. Not once. You didn't call anyone. I haven't heard a thing.”

He almost whines. “Are you angry with me?”

“Angry?” you smile. “Of course not . That was the challenge. I can't be mad just because you tried to win.”

You linger there a moment, but it's getting to be too much. You straighten your spine slowly. You almost mess up as you reach your hand up to stroke his cheek, stopping halfway just to drop it back to your side. You sigh and walk away.

“How were you,” you wonder, “while I was gone?”

“Please. It hurts.”

He sounds so sad, you almost give in just because. You don't want him hurting. But you have a point to prove. Besides, the longer you wait it out, the better he'll be by the time you're done with him.

So you continue. “What hurts?” You slip your shoes off by the door, stretching your arms over your head with a long sigh.

“Everything hurts.” He can't think straight. It's becoming too much.

“Poor baby,” you mutter.

He needs you to do something, but he doesn't want to accept defeat. It's not fully a conscious decision. Spencer has always had trouble asking for help. It's what happens when you know everything. It's just more fun for him when he doesn't feel like he's burning from the inside out.

“I wasn't good,” he tries. “I tried to fix it on my own, but I couldn't. I knew I couldn't, and I tried anyway.”

You hum. “That's okay. What else were you going to do? Wait for me?”

“I'm supposed to.”

You shrug. “You are supposed to.” You walk to the edge of the bed, tilting your head at him. “But you didn't.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving closer. He holds his hands out, palms up to offer them to you.

“I'm not falling for that, Spencer. If you want me to help, you know how to do that.” Any second now. “Don't you?”

Spencer just stares at you for a second, his face seemingly pained with his need. He sits up on his knees, the blankets falling away from him as he cradles your face in the palms of his hands.

Your lashes flutter at the feeling of his soft hands on your cheeks, but you continue to watch him, your face blank.

He gives in. “Please.”

You cup his elbow with your hand. With a sigh, Spencer leans in and captures your mouth in his. It's hot and rough, full of a raw desire for the other.

He's insistent in the way he kisses you. If he hadn't been so needy before, you'd think he was making you concede. His hand cups the back of your neck, the other wrapping around your waist as he brings you flush against his body.

You let him move you for now, setting your arms over his shoulders as you run your fingers through his hair.

When you grasp a handful of his soft, brown locks, he whimpers when you pull it back. You have to fight the urge to clench your teeth. “Shh, it's okay,” you whisper against his lips. You keep him firmly in place, kissing his forehead and his nose and his lips. “You weren't very good today, were you?”

You feel his body tense against you. “You are angry.”

You shake your head, rutting gently. “I'm not angry with you.” You let go of his hair to glide your fingertips along his hairline. “I'm just disappointed.”

He tugs at the hem of your shirt. “That's not better.”

You smile. “It's not, is it?” You pinch his chin in your hand, brushing your fingers along the length of his neck. “But don't worry, baby, we're gonna fix that together, okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

You kiss him quickly before stepping out of his grasp. “Lie back.” Spencer sits back on the bed, awaiting you with pleading eyes. You smile. “I'm gonna go get ready for you. When I come back, I want you to be right there. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

When you return, Spencer is laying back against the headboard like he's dying of the plague. You lean your bare body against the doorframe, sighing gently as you watch him.

You gently knock on the wall, bidding his eyes open as he turns his head to you. His breath hitches, catching again as he sits up some more.

Slowly, you make your way to the bed, climbing on top of the sheets and crawling over to him. Your lips meet as you straddle his waist, hovering over him as you relish in the closeness.

With a feather light touch, you reach down to take his cock in your hand. He winces, inhaling sharply through his teeth as his eyes squeeze shut. You pull back to look at it, swollen and weeping. It looks painful, and you suspect it is. “Oh,” you sigh lightly. “Look at what you did to yourself, baby. How will I be able to do anything with this? You're already ready to burst.”

He whines. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.” He gasps woefully when your thumb brushes the head. “Can you fix it?”

You do not envy him. Your clit is aching, your nipples are peaked, and you'll start sweating any moment now—but Spencer is suffering. He really needs this, and you're about to be cruel.

Oh, well. At least he'll learn a lesson.

You sigh, letting go of him. “I have an idea. But I need to be warmed up first, yeah?”

You kiss him before throwing your leg from over his body. He sits up, switching spots with you to let you sit against the headboard, your legs spread wide. You've been needing this all day, but you can't admit to that yet. At least Spencer had the whole house, filled with your scent in every fiber of fabric or every splinter of wood. You've been trapped at the office with nothing but his desk too far away from you to keep you company.

Spencer scurries to the spot between your legs. He might as well be salivating with how excited he is to be there. He slips his arms underneath your thighs, scooping them up and pulling you in close. Before he does anything, he looks up at you. “May I?”

He asks so sweetly. It'd be cruel not to oblige.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

Spencer's mouth is on you in a second, his hot tongue laving through your folds and his lips suckling on your clit. He's eager and desperate to taste you, to run his mouth over your cunt and cover himself in you.

You moan as you card your fingers through his hair, bucking your hips up into his mouth every time he moans right back. He eats you out like you're a feast fit for a king, licking and sucking and slurping you up.

“Oh, fuck. That's it, baby. Keep going.” You huff, savoring each flick of his tongue. “Good. Good boy.”

He makes a dreadful sound, so filled with pleasure that slick and spit seep from you like sap. You grip his hair tight, encouraging him with grinding hips and deep moans and fluttering folds. “C’mon, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.” He plunges his tongue inside of you, moaning into your dripping cunt.

He's always been very eager to do this, to taste you and to lick you whole. He's always been very good at this. You're on the verge already—all the pent of desire between the two of you makes it all the worse.

When you cum, he's all over you. His tongue and his lips devour you. Your thighs clamp around his head so tight, you think that you'll crush his skull. Not that he'll mind much. He's always enjoyed being in this position—you think he'd consider it a wonderful death.

The pleasure rushes through your body and makes you tremble as you arch your back and soak in the feeling of it all. And when the trembling has eased, you let out a heavy sigh and guide Spencer away before he works toward a second or fifth orgasm. He will, and he has.

“Good‎. Good job, baby,” you smile drunkenly, carding your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you. His face is pink, almost darker. His chin and nose glisten with your arousal. You kiss it from his face.

He stares at you like your approval is going to make him cum all on its own. His lashes are fluttering, and he looks like he's barely holding on to reality.

You kiss his forehead to bring him back again. “Now lie back, and let me take a look.”

Spencer does as he's told. He sits up and trades places with you once again. As he lays against the pillows, you shuffle through clothes and blankets to half-straddle his legs.

He's gotten worse (as you supposed he would). When you touch his aching cock, he winces again. “Ah!” he exclaims, like you'd just hit him in the gut.

You shush him gently, using your fingertips to brush over the length of him. His arousal is pooling at the tip of his weeping cock. You do not envy him right now. You do pity him.

Though not enough to give him what he wants.

You drag your fingertips gently along his cock, grazing your thumb along the head and watching his belly tense and un-tense. You lean down, pressing your lips to his chest, and then to his belly, and then to his lower belly.

He whines when your breath fans over his erection, even worse when your lips kiss the base of his cock, and then come back up to kiss the head.

He's muttering little pleas under his breath, but he's too unfocused to form any actual sentences. You scarcely lick and suck on him, not nearly enough to get him off, but enough to elicit desperate moans and whimpers from your poor boy.

Your fingers curl around him, teasing the veins running underneath his cock or gliding gently over his balls. He's trembling, he needs you so bad.

You really should just put him out of his misery, but you find it too sweet right now. You clench your thighs and bite your lip. You bring your own free hand to your clit and rub inefficient circles over the bundle of nerves. It won't be enough right now to help you, but it sure does drive him crazy.

Spencer can't keep up with his own breath. He struggles to keep it steady when you touch him like you do. Every time you think he'll cum, you grip the base of his cock until that malcontent fills his eyes, and then you start again. You've done it a lot thus far, he's so close to the edge that everything you do nearly sets him off.

You stroke his length with a lazy, limp hand as you look down on him. “How's that? How do you feel, honey?”

Sweat sticks to his forehead, his neck—he's covered in it. His eyes are dazed. You're not entirely sure he's present right now. He's definitely not here enough to string together a coherent sentence on the first try.

“Please,” he whines. “I need it. Need you.”

There's no emphasis, or perhaps the whole thing is an emphasis. He's too far gone for you to tell.

“Yeah?” You try to catch his line of sight. His eyes find you and stick to your face, but you can tell it's not quite processing fully. “That's not what it felt like today.” You shake your head, tutting as you keep stroking, slowly building your pace. “You said you could last without me. Now look at you: you can't even make a full sentence.”

You grip the base of his cock as you feel him beginning to buck into your hand. He groans, clenching his teeth and slamming his eyes shut. “‘M sorry. I'm s-sorry.”

“You are?” You sweep the pad of your thumb over the slit in his tip. “Sorry about what?”

He sits up on his elbows. “What I said. I was wrong,” he insists.

You tilt your head just as you flick your wrist. You watch the muscles in his neck tense. “What were you wrong about, Dr. Reid?”

His hand reaches out to hold your side, grasping without grabbing you. “P-Please.”

You lean forward, pulling his face close to yours as you continue to stroke your fingertips along the underside of his cock. “No. You don't get anything from me until you say it.”

His breath is entirely unsteady. He struggles to keep up as he makes these pitiful sounds. “Omegas don't have more discipline,” he huffs out, his words coming in a rush in an attempt to get them out. “I was wrong. I would-wouldn't last longer than you. I didn't. I lost, I was wrong.”

His hair sticks to his forehead. He looks like he might start crying.

“Good,” you smile, brushing the hair from his face and pressing a kiss to his temple. His nose nuzzles in the crook of your neck, his lips stick to your own damp skin. “Good boy. So good for me.” He whines lightly, worse when you rub his tip. “I just need you to do one more thing for me now, okay? Can you do that?”

He looks at you with glossy eyes. “Yes. Anything.”

You smile gently, your face unchanging as you simply say, “Apologize.”

His brows pull together. A tear rolls down the side of his face. “I did.”

You shake your head. “No,” you squeeze his base, “you said you're sorry, and that you were wrong.” He sighs shakily. “I want an apology. A good one. What did you do? Why did you do it? Why won't you be doing it again?”

He whimpers when you tickle his balls with your fingertips, pulling your hand away to watch his face scrunch up discontentedly before continuing again.

“C’mon, baby,” you encourage.

“I-I’m sorry for saying I don't n-need you,” he stammers. “I do. I thought I knew everything, but I don't. And-and–”

You raise your brows. “And what, Spencer?”

“And I won't do it again because–” His words are interrupted by a moan when you tug on his cock.

“Because what, huh?”

He places his hand on your cheek, gazing up at you with teary eyes and a face red as cherries. “Because I need you. Because I love you. Please, I love you.”

Your hand stops entirely, looking upon him with softened eyes and a gentle face. You bend down to whisper against his lips. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he breathes. “Fuck, I love you.”

You set a hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb over the reddened skin and easing hair from his face. His face is so warm, he's burning beneath your palm. “I love you, too, Spencer,” you smile. He hums into your mouth as you kiss him, leaning into you and your warmth. He missed you so much.

“See?” You cup his neck in your hands, cradling him in your palms as you look over him. “That wasn't so hard, now was it?” You kiss him again, but he's shaking beneath you. You hover above him, straddling his lap and placing a hand on his chest.

“You ready?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, grabbing at your sides and letting his hands feel your hot skin. “Yes, please.” He starts to ramble again.

“Shh. It's okay, it's okay,” you whisper against his lips.

You line his cock with your pussy, almost as needy as him as you anticipate the feeling. You sink down on him, and you're so dreadfully wet and aching that he slips right in with ease.

You both moan, long and deep sounds that reverberate in your chests. Your eyes fall shut, your folds flutter around him, your mouth parts. A gentle curse falls from your lips, and Spencer is glad he isn't the only one who needed this so bad.

He sits deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cock. He's so hard, you can feel him pulsing inside of you. His hands take hold of your waist and squeeze so hard that you think you'll bruise. You clench around him and try to keep your breath steady.

He really needs you to stay focused right now, you know it. You set your hands on his belly, holding his close as you slowly begin to grind yourself in him.

He really isn't going to last long. You've been teasing him for the better part of ten or fifteen minutes, pulling him to the edge just to ease it and watch him suffer. You'll be surprised if he holds out the first minute.

“That’s it, baby,” you sigh, your voice a little pitchy with your own pleasure. He grasps your hips and guides you a bit as you roll your hips steadily atop him. Your gentleness only lasts a moment. In the next, you're grinding atop him like you’re the one who's been trapped in the house all day begging for an Alpha to come help you.

Your sounds mix with his, almost as pitiful as you both whine and moan, blinded by the pleasure finally being awarded to you.

Spencer's head tosses back into the pillows. He clenches his jaw and tries to stifle his moan as he holds your hips down on top of him. You grip his shoulders, gasping as he cums inside of you. He moans your name, grabbing at flesh like he's kneading dough.

You shush him gently, easing your pace just enough to let him come down. Once his breaths settle down, you kiss him as you start again.

If there's one thing you love about this time of the month, it's how fast Spencer recovers. He can go for rounds and rounds at a time before he needs to rest.

You pick up Spencer's hand, guiding it to your belly as you press his palm into you. “You feel that?” you mutter, adjusting his hand. “That's you. That's you inside me. You're so—Ah!—so fucking deep, baby. Making me feel so good.”

He huffs, thrusting up into you suddenly. He laughs a little when he feels the way it moves, hears the way you moan. “It's perfect. You're perfect,” he rambles. He buries his head in the pillows.

When his dull nails dig into your skin again, you take his hands and pin his wrists above his head. He gasps and moans as you fuck him, riding him with all the vigor you have.

“You like that?” you huff, your control slipping with every roll of your hips. “This feel better?”

“Yes!” He's a mess, laying there and letting you ride him. “Yes, so much better.”

You can feel some of his cum leaking out of you, joining your arousal and making the schelp! of your thrusts easy. It soaks your thighs and his waist, creating this loud smacking sound that fills the bedroom.

Holding both his wrists in one hand isn't easy but it's manageable as you bring your hand to your clit, rubbing fast circles that immediately spur you on.

“Fuck,” you huff. “Spence, I'm gonna cum.” He answers you by thrusting his hips up some more, meeting your thighs as you come down.

Your legs shake as you cum, your cunt fluttering and gushing around him. One of your hands slips under his head to pull at his hair, enjoying the way he gasps. You attach your mouth to his throat, biting and sucking and licking.

It's like that for a while. It gets really wet and really loud. You ride Spencer for a while, holding him and kissing him and biting him while you both keep coming undone, moaning and gasping each other's names and grabbing at limbs to keep you steady.

Spencer is trembling beneath you. He's a complete mess, grabbing at your thighs and bucking his hips up to meet yours. His hair is all over his face, you keep having to brush it away. You praise him with every roll of your hips, grinding down on him and telling him how good he's doing. He whimpers every time you do.

The dynamics are always so different during heats like this. Spencer requires your lead, and you enjoy taking it. But when things are normal, when the need isn't so high, it's not so desperate.

That's not what this is. It's a raw feeling that sits in the pit of your stomach and demands attention as you hold Spencer down by his throat and sink your teeth into his flesh as you shudder around him in the middle of another orgasm (which makes him lose it and cum inside of you again).

You look at him as you settle again, catching your breath as you move slowly on top of him. His eyes are glossy, he's beet red. He looks so precious. His hand reaches up to cup your breasts, grazing the pad of his thumb over your nipple.

“Better?” you breathe. “Does that feel better, honey?”

He nods, not fully present. “Yes.”

“Good. That's good.” You sigh, bending down to kiss him gently. “Can you do something for me, love?”

“Anything.”

You brace yourself, pulling yourself up from his lap as he slips out of you. He whines, bucking his hips up to meet you again. “Shh. It's okay.”

You're shaky as you sit down, reaching over to grab his cock. It looks better, but he's still hard. He's got a couple loads left in him. If you weren't in a rut, you don't know how you would be able to keep up.

“Go ahead and get on top of me, okay?” Your voice has lost some of its intensity, replaced with breathless gentleness. At this point, you're just trying to make sure Spencer is okay, and you're losing some of your energy to guide him on top.

You lean into the plush pillows, keeping your hips up as he sits up to follow. Spencer grabs your hips gently, guiding himself inside of you once again as he presses his chest into your back.

You groan into the pillow when he thrusts, reaching one hand to card through his hair and setting the other palm up for him to hold. Spencer buries his face into your neck, kissing you needily as one of his hands plays with your breast. “Do whatever you want, I'm okay,” you whisper, clenching around him. The rock of his hips becomes insistent. He thrusts into you in quick movements, though not as rough in fear of hurting you.

“It's okay, baby,” you breathe again. He whines, squeezing your hand a little tighter. He listens anyway, adjusting his pace as his hips snap into yours, reaching deep and groaning with every thrust. You moan, pressing your face into the pillow. “Good, just like that.”

Spencer lets go, rocking back and forth and moaning and grabbing. He holds you carefully as he fucks you recklessly, enjoying the shudder and the swell of his body when he cums.

His fingers find your clit, and he rubs at it as he continues to thrust. He rubs tight circles, coaxing the frayed nerves with every intention of making you feel as good as he does. He kisses the back of your neck, he grinds his hips deep inside of you.

You hear the way his breath starts to rise again, the way his hips stutter once more. You grip his hair a little tighter, clenching around him and huffing when your own edge starts nipping at you.

“Baby,” he whines. “M’so close. Almost there.”

“C’mon, honey.” Your voice is a whisper muffled by the pillows. “C’mon, c’mon. I got you, c’mon.”

He flicks his wrist, and you gasp. Everything is covered in a white haze as you clench and gush around him. Spencer moans weakly, burying himself deep inside, pushing forward against you just to get closer. With a final thrust, he spills inside of you with the most dreadful sound, filling you to the brim with the warmth of his cum.

Spencer wraps his arms around your midsection, keeping you close to him and sticking together with sweat and warmth.

He rolls onto his side, taking you with him. He's still buried inside of you, refusing to pull out just yet as he lays there, catching his breath. You lay there, resting against the bed and enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. You don't know how many times he came, but you do know that if you weren't so dedicated to your medications, there is no earthly way you would come out of this without being bred.

It takes a while for Spencer to fully come back around. By the way his breath slows and his arms hold you, you'd say he'd fallen asleep for a moment. You don't blame him, you've dazed out a couple times as well.

When he comes to, he presses his lips to your skin. “Baby?” he mumbles, slipping out of you on the way to look at your face. Your eyes are closed, and you look tired. “Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling a little when you feel the way some of the stickiness is spilling out of you. “Mhm,” you hum lazily. You turn over in his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his chest. He's forced to move his arms to sit over your shoulders. He doesn't mind.

“I missed you today, Spence,” you whisper. “Fuck, I thought I was gonna die.”

He hums, smiling a bit. He kisses your forehead, petting you gently. It takes a long time for him to move, to bear to pull away from you just to stand and go to the bathroom. He comes back with a cloth that he uses so carefully to clean the both of you up with. You're absolutely stuffed.

You drape an arm over your eyes, sighing heavily. “Next time this happens, we stay inside.”

“Agreed.”

You stuck your pinky out, and he interlocks his with a smile. He goes back to the bathroom to rinse off the cloth.

You sit up, leaning into Spencer when he comes back to the bedroom, sitting next to you with an arm around your waist. He really must have missed you because he buries his face in the crook of your neck and stays there.

After a while, you hear his stomach growl. It's this deep, monstrous sound that pulls you away from him.

You look at him expectantly, standing up and taking his face in your hands. “When was the last time you ate?” Spencer blushes, glancing away from you. You sigh, though not unkindly. “You haven't eaten today.”

He swallows thickly. “I was focused on other things.”

You chuckle lightly, kissing his forehead. “C’mon. Let's get you fed.”

You go to pull him with you, but he squeezes your hand. You return to his grasp. “I can do it.” His arms wrap around you and hold you tight so you can't escape.

“Hush,” you tap his nose. “I'll cook, we'll eat.”

He considers this for a moment. “Can we have sex after?”

You laugh, guiding his face to your chest as you tuck your chin over his head. You stroke his back. “You're so needy,” you laugh giddily.

He hums. “Sorry.”

A sour feeling threatens to curl in your belly. You pull him away to look at his face. He looks a little sad. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” you tell him, soft but firm. “Nothing.”

His brows furrow slightly. “But you said–”

“I wasn't upset with you. I was just playing it out for you.” You stroke your thumb over the apple of his cheek. You could never be upset with your Spencer.

He pouts now. You can't help but giggle at the way he looks, lips pursed and brows furrowed. He's silly, you think. “That was mean.”

You shrug. “You like when I'm mean to you.”

“I know.”

You pull him in and kiss him again. He's insistent on pulling close, always insistent. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

His voice is so small, so gentle. You taste his love on his tongue. “I love you, too.”

He brings you back in, and you slot your lips along his neck. He tilts his chin up to give you space. You kiss and suck at his skin, knocking his chin up some more as you find a nice spot beneath his ear.

Spencer hums when you bite him, sinking teeth into flesh to lay claim to him once again. His hands tighten around your waist. You feel his tired length bob against your thigh. He's yours. He'll always be yours.

When you kiss it better, Spencer dips his lips to your neck to do the same.

“Now let's go eat,” you smile, running your hands through his hair affectionately. You make him stand, tucking yourself into his side. You both need the support. “I'll make you whatever you want.”

He sounds almost pleading when he asks you. “And then sex?”

You chuckle heftily. “Of course we're gonna sex again.” He smiles excitedly.

You both return to work the day after the next day. You had to call off when you woke up with Spencer's head between your legs. You'd both mentally prepared yourselves in the car beforehand for the stares you were going to get from the team.

You walk inside next to Spencer, standing so close to him that it's no wonder they all immediately smirked at you. Even worse, Morgan is sitting on your desk.

“Nice outfit,” Emily points out, gesturing to Spencer in his purple turtleneck. He had to hide his blush, and you know he wished he could hide it in your neck.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. She glances at you, raising her brows expectantly. When you gave her a very small, very brief thumbs up by your side, she made a little “yes” as she spun back around to her desk. She sticks her hand out to JJ, who grumbles as she opens her wallet.

“You're lookin’ good kid. Guess you're all healed up now?” Morgan quips. When Spencer comes to his desk, which sits right across from you, the man whistles. “You're smellin’ ‎good.”

Yes. Spencer smells like you. He smells exceedingly like you. You'd spent a full day wrapped up in each other, and you'd bitten him more times than you can count. (Spencer could count. He'd say twelve times. It was eleven, but you bit him before you left the house. He's not at all upset by it.)

“I see the brains and the brawns have returned.” Rossi walks in with a newspaper under his arm, and Penelope at his side.

You roll your eyes, shooing Morgan away so you can sit down. Penelope shuffles up to you and bends down to whisper in your ear. “Did one of you cry?”

You purse your lips, considering for a moment before nodding with a stifled grin. “Yes! I was right,” she whispers.

“How was your fever?” Morgan nudges Spencer, whose mouth opens and shuts in a struggle to respond. He glances at you for help.

“Spence, how many files do you have on your desk?”

Without looking down, he answers. “Thirty-one.”

“Wow! And I have…” You look down.

“Forty-four.” Christ.

“Forty-four,” you repeat. “So I think we should get to work, huh?” Spencer nods enthusiastically.

Morgan chuckles, holding his hands up in defense as he backs away. “Okay, I get it. You get to work, little lovebirds.”

“Glad to have you back.” Penelope hugs Spencer. A look flashes across her face when she catches a whiff of his hair. She looks at you, covers her grin, and then rushes to join Derek.

Everyone decides to leave you alone. You've started turning on your computer when Spencer stands and reaches across your desk. He picks up eight of your files and sits back down with them added to his stack. When you go to reach for a couple to even it out, he lightly smacks your hand without even looking.

You roll your eyes, smiling at your screen as you tap in your password.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 Dr. Reid taglist: @swwanlake Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #abo verse #omega spencer reid #kinktober

183 notes · View notes

winxfairyliveshere · 1 month ago

Text

Ruben Dias x Wife Reader

Angst

Hi!!! I really don't know if i am doing a good job or not. I just said "Why not write fanfics?" and here i am. This is my first time and English is not my mother language so if there are mistakes, pardon me :) I hope you guys like it!!!! Feedbacks are welcomed 🥰

It was a hard week that you three had. Man City lost a game, you were dealing with a toddler and a backpain cause of the pregnancy. Teo, your son, was not helping, he is clinging into you every day. You just don't have any "me time"s. Your husband, Ruben, was also nervous and a little bit impatient for the next game. Because he wants to prove everyone he is still best, a game can't define his abilities and skills. That's why he was doing a double exercise everyday. He's the gym king, always was, always will be. But after you gave birth to your first child Teo, he made some changes in his routine for becoming a good father and a caring husband. And he is doing amazing. But as you said before, he was impatient for the next game. And when you said him he is being too concerned for it, his big brown eyes found yours with annoyance.

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying you are too anxious for the game. You should be more relax, you are exercising well eating well, you will be good. Remember? You are Ruben Dias. You did your part, its time to trust God." He laughed at your words like you said something silly. You looked at him with questioning eyes. But he returned to clean his game shoes, ignored your look.

You peeked a look to your son, you can see your son playing in the living room through the door, he was happy. And then you took a few steps to Ruben, he was in the hallway. You tapped his right shoulder a little bit harsh and said "Why are you laughing at me?"

And it made him angry. He got up furious from where he sit. He opened his mouth and then he probably remembered your son was to close to the hallway so he came closer to your face.

"Don't talk like you know so much about football" he muttered with his index finger pointing at you. You were in shock. You were 6 months pregnant, hormones walking over you like a flood, crying at everything, well, you were always a delicate person so this wasn't a big surprise.

"I know nothing?! Then talk to me! I know the past match making you uncomfortable but what i am saying is, you can do better and you will be. I just trust you and want you to trust yourself-"

"Y/n, no. No okay? You can't understand me at this point. You can't understand. You are not in the football world."

This words broke your heart. Yes you are not in the field playing active football like your husband but you are in the football world. You know how hard it is, how it can be challenging for your family. You remember yourself worrying and crying about your husband what if he wouldn't come to your delivery because of his crazy schedule. You remember that lonely nights with your infant son because Ruben was at a different country cause of the Champions League. You remember the time Ruben got hit to his head, laying on the field with blood on his face. You started to shake, wondering will he be okay. This and all other stuff. You lived this things because you are in the same world with him, you got in this world because you love him unconditionally. And right now he says no you can't understand him, you are at a different world. Wow.

You shook your head, laughed ironically. "So you basically say i can't understand you huh? I know nothing? So what am i then to you?" You pointed your big belly. "Am i just a body you can fuck and make babies? Since i can't understand your world, this makes me just a body, not a soul mate as i thought, huh? Why are you staying with me then?" Ruben tried to say something but you acted fast.

"No shut up!" Your voice was raising high. "Why did you make a baby with me then? You think i know nothing about your job but you are building a family with me. As i remember i made this babies with you." You were referring your belly and Teo with your two hands. "I was not under of a another man."

He took a big step and gripped your arm tightly. You saw his veins in his forehead and neck.

"Shut up y/n! You are crossing the line. Yes i remember the nights you were under me, there is no other way around. Watch your words or this will go worse."

"Worse?! What will you do?" You looked at your arm with Ruben's hand on it.

"Mãe?"

You both turned your heads to the living room. Teo was standing in front of the door with his cute pyjama set and bare feet. Ruben let go of his hand from your arm and walked to the other direction while sighing. You walked to the your scared son, his cheeks were red. He inherited this from you. Your cheeks will turn red whenever you feel intense emotions. He was tall compared to his piers like Ruben when he was a child. Ruben approached you as you held him in your arms, he looked at his father first and said "Why are you yelling mãe?" while snuggling you. "Oh baby we are just discussing something with your father. You know adults solve their problems through talking right? But i think this time my voice was to high, you are right." You kissed his head, took him off from your arms and said "Go upstairs and brush your teeth. Its sleeping time. I'm coming after you."

"Can you read Portuguese stories tonight? I'm bored of others." he said. You shook your head and he climbed the stairs slowly. You both watched him.

After he left, you looked at your husband's face, his very handsome face. Whenever you look at him, you find comfort. Always. But this time it caused your tears to drop. You left him alone with his training shoes and went your son's room.

Let me know if you want part 2!

PART 2

#ruben dias #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer angst #fanfic #ruben dias imagine #man city

123 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 8 months ago

Text

alone with you - l.m.

Liam Mairi x reader part two of Liam and Spark's story. words: 3.0k 🏷: Fourth Wing spoilers (spark knows things that Violet doesn't lmao), sparring and a tiny bit of blood, reader gets injured but not to worry, someone takes care of you. no pronouns used for reader but Liam does call you a girl. Tuile being a bitch (wbk) and perhaps some answers about what happened in spark's first year at basgiath... I'm still not good at writing fight scenes, sorry lol

Another year, another round of challenges. Another opportunity to show the entire quadrant that you’re not here to fuck around, nor to make friends.

You loosen your muscles as Emeterrio discusses the rules of engagement, cracking your neck and stretching out your arms, taking mental inventory of all the weapons on your body -- even though it’s frowned upon to use them in these fights, you keep the array of knives at the ready.

“I see the general’s girl has survived the week,” Tuile muses. “I’m almost impressed.”

You cast a glance across the room, seeing her standing next to the cadet who was in front of her in line for Parapet, the one she’d traded boots with.

“It’s only a matter of time,” you mutter back.

Even though Xaden had convinced the two dozen of you to leave her alone, it’s likely that somebody else is going to see how fragile she is and walk right up and snap her in two, to thin the herd -- not that she has a real chance of making it to threshing anyway, not without some divine intervention.

But she’s a perfect little Navarrian citizen, so she must pray to their gods every night before bed. Maybe they’ll help her, because you sure as hell won’t; you have a reputation to maintain, and there’s no rational explanation you could give her for why you would want to help her at all, not without jeopardizing the entire revolution -- she might not take after her traitorous older brother, who as far as she and everyone else in this death trap of a college is aware, is dead.

She seems to notice you watching her, locking eyes with you for a split second and quickly averting her gaze. She’s afraid of you and all of your friends, unaware that your respect for Brennan is what’s keeping her alive right now.

Fear is a requirement for survival here. Maybe she’ll make it longer than you’d thought.

It’s not a surprise to you at all that your name is called first, nor that you’re matched with the largest cadet in the class. It became clear to you last year that the professors aren’t making these assignments randomly. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they keep pairing you with the best fighters -- but never with another marked one, even though you’re all at the top of the class.

No, they’re probably entertained by all of this, betting on you like racehorses or wild dogs, placing wagers on who would come out on top. If anyone’s putting money on you, you’ve made them a killing -- you’re undefeated.

But that would require someone else to bet against you, and while you may not respect all of the professors and leadership, or any of them, really, you don’t think they’re dumb enough to throw their money away like that.

“We meet again,” he says with a sick grin that makes the scar below his eye stretch and contort.

You don’t respond, taking one last survey of the seven blades on your body, but you’re not dumb enough to touch them, lest he see where they are and try to take them himself, like he did earlier this year.

He’d wrapped his fingers around the wooden hilt of the blade that Liam had given you before you left for Basgiath, intent on putting it through your heart, and you’d seen red.

“You should have taken his eye out.”

“I gave him that scar as a warning,” you reply evenly. “It’s up to him if he’s going to heed it or not.”

You’re at it as soon as Emeterrio says go, taking turns lunging at each other and blocking attacks.

You’re evenly matched, despite the size he has on you. He may be stronger, more intimidating, but you’re faster, and you know what you’re doing. You know where to hit and when, your strikes much more precise than his.

Still, Liam’s heart races.

It was one thing watching you mess around with Bodhi in the courtyard, but it’s another thing entirely seeing you fight as if your life depends on it -- and it does. There’s a very real possibility that one of you is going to be spending the evening in the infirmary, or the morgue, after this ends.

You fight like Xaden, like himself and Bodhi and Imogen and everyone else his brother had a hand in training, but with an edge he’s never seen from you before.

He hesitates to put a name to it, but there’s something in your eyes akin to a wild animal’s as the pair of you stalk circles around each other, planning your next attack.

“It’s not polite to play with your food,” Tuile chides.

Fine. You’ll finish this, if only so she’ll shut up and leave you alone.

The other cadet has the same idea.

You charge at the same time as he hurls a dagger in your direction, and you hit the ground at the last second to avoid being skewered. You start to press up to your feet, but he stomps a boot into your back, pain ripping down your spine. You swallow a scream, digging your nails into the sticky foam beneath you.

The mental wall separating you from Tuile crumbles, that familiar white-hot anger flowing through you. “Do something.”

You unsheath a dagger, reaching up and swiping it across his calf, and he hisses in pain, releasing you and taking a stumbling step back.

It’s easy enough for you to knock him off balance, landing three consecutive blows to his ribs and a swift kick to his stomach that sends him to the floor.

You’re tired of this already. It’s lost its novelty, and you really need to sit down -- there’s black spots clouding your vision, and the pain in your back has gotten impossibly worse.

“Do I have to kill you in front of the kids, or do you yield?”

“I yield,” he rasps, still clutching his leg.

You lean down, wiping each side of the blade on his shirt before you sheath it.

“Sloppy, but satisfactory,” Tuile comments — that’s high praise from her. Maybe she’ll give you the evening off from her snide remarks.

You slot yourself between Liam and Bodhi, leaning against the wall as casually as you can; every movement has pain spreading across your lower back and shooting down your spine.

You try to focus on rebuilding the wall she’d knocked down, brick by brick, taking deep breaths and forcing the anger out of your body.

Liam reaches for you, looking worried.

You speak under your breath, not moving your lips. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.”

He pulls back without protest, understanding why you don’t want him helping you where the rest of the quadrant can see you, don’t want them to see the look of concern on his face and his hand on your arm and identify him as your weakness.

You may very well be the most hated person in the quadrant, being marked, bonded to one of Navarre’s nastiest dragons, and unafraid to draw blood in challenges. There are several cadets in this room who wouldn’t hesitate to go after Liam if they thought it would hurt you -- and it would.

You don’t care what they do to you, what pain they inflict or what scars they leave on your body, but if anyone so much as touches Liam, they’ll lose the use of their hands.

You breathe through the pain and keep your eyes on the fights unfolding in front of you; making note of who favors what side of their body, who gets sloppy after more than a minute, who yields because they don’t have the stomach to take things further.

Most of the cadets think this is the one class you don’t have to study for, but they’d be wrong -- there’s a reason you always come out on top, and this is it.

The class ends without Liam’s name being called, which is a relief, even though you don’t doubt his skill on the mat — it’s off the mat that you’re worried about.

Almost everyone heads straight to dinner, but Liam hangs back, getting your attention with a barely-there touch to your elbow. You look over at him, and he nods in the other direction, toward the dorms.

Of course he’s going to insist on checking your injuries himself, as he always did in the years you trained with him and Xaden. He doesn’t seem to think anything has changed between you in the year you’ve been away.

Sooner or later, he’ll realize he’s wrong.

You wait for nearly everyone to be out of the gym before you leave, leading him up to the second floor in silence and unlocking your door with a wave of your hand, gesturing him inside -- thankfully there’s nobody in the hallway to see you.

You haven’t been alone with him in a full year. A year and two weeks, if you want to be precise. The day you’d said goodbye, and nothing else.

You busy yourself with digging through your desk drawer to find the nearly-empty tin of healing balm, handing it to him before you turn away, gritting your teeth as you pull the shirt up over your head.

If you weren’t pouring every ounce of energy you have left into keeping yourself upright, you might have it in you to be embarrassed about the amount of skin you’re exposing to him, the history of your first year at Basgiath on full display. But it’s Liam. Liam isn’t going to judge you, isn’t going to pry; he’ll just keep giving you that soft, concerned look -- which is somehow almost worse.

There’s a moment of quiet as he takes it in; the dark blue, nearly-black silhouette of Tuile that spans your shoulder blades and continues down your back, disappearing into the layers of thick linen wrapped over your chest, the full extent of your rebellion relic, winding down your arm to your wrist…

Then he sees it, the nasty bruise starting to form on your back, below the hem of your bindings. The other cadet had hit you square in the spine, a blow that could very well have been paralyzing had it been delivered at a slightly different angle with slightly more force. That’s probably what he’d intended.

Liam isn’t particularly religious -- none of you are, which was a major reason why your parents had wanted to secede from Navarre -- but he still sends up a silent thank you to the powers that be that you’re okay, standing in front of him mostly unharmed.

You grit your teeth, keeping your eyes shut and gripping the shirt tightly as Liam’s hand rubs over your back, working in the healing balm.

There’s something about the feeling of his skin on yours that is more uncomfortable than the aching bruise or any of the other injuries you’d sustained in that fight.

You can handle the brush of your hands, a touch through layers of clothing and armor, eye contact and whispered words and smiles — all things that are acceptable behavior between friends — but the tenderness of this whole thing is overwhelming; being alone with Liam in your room, his bookbag on the floor, standing behind you rubbing a hand over your back, the other on your waist to hold you steady because you’re fucking trembling.

Maybe you are a little embarrassed after all.

The skin feels warm and tingly, a sign that whatever healing herbs within the sticky paste are working, soothing the aching muscle. Your entire body feels warm. It’s unbearably hot in this room, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind, still dressed in his flight jacket and full uniform.

He moves his attention from your back to your side, murmuring a soft apology when you startle at the feeling of his hand smoothing over your ribs.

You take a breath, letting him work more of the balm into the spot where the other cadet’s fist had landed.

He finally pulls back, letting his hand linger on your waist until he’s convinced you won’t fall over. “Anything else hurting?” he asks gently.

“My head,” you admit to the wall. “But that never goes away.”

You pull the shirt back on as quickly as you can, done feeling exposed, and fight to maintain an unaffected expression as you turn back to face him.

He looks at you for a few seconds before it dawns on him -- the persistent headache, the flatness of your skin and your constantly racing heart, the way you’re bracing yourself with a hand on the desk, how tired you look and feel… “Spark, when was the last time you had water? Or anything to drink at all?”

Liam has always been too observant for his own good.

You take a moment to think about it, another definite indicator that something is wrong. “Yesterday,” you answer quietly. “At dinner.”

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It’s been a full twenty-four hours -- you’re supposed to be at dinner right now. It’s a miracle that you hadn’t passed out on the mat this afternoon.

He doesn’t scold you, doesn’t tell you how bad that is; he just squeezes your hand gently, taking the water bottle out of his bag and uncapping it. He can see you hesitating, knows something is wrong -- it takes a lot to rattle you, but you’re looking at the thing like it’s going to bite you.

“Three sips?” he asks softly.

That seems doable.

You take the bottle from him, holding it for a moment, feeling the weight of the metal and the energy flowing through the water inside it. It’s clean, calm, not murky and angry like the river water that Carr had made you practice with last year, but that doesn’t matter; in your hands, it’s the most dangerous substance on the planet.

And as fate would have it, it’s necessary for your survival.

You’re just grateful Tuile is off doing gods-know-what and not making her usual smug commentary -- she’d left after you’d won that challenge match, but she’ll be back soon enough.

You raise it to your lips and drink, wanting to get it over with. The water is cool and crisp, breathing life back into your mouth and soothing your throat as you swallow, your body singing in relief as you give it what it’s been deprived of for months now.

You take a moment to breathe, comforted by the air that continues to flow into your lungs and back out. Liam is standing in front of you. You’re okay. Two more. You can do this.

You bring it back up for another sip. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, how much better it would make you feel. You take the next one in quick succession — that’s three. You’re done.

You hate to admit it, but you feel better already.

Liam is still watching you with that soft, worried expression, though it’s less severe now than it had been earlier. You can see the gears turning, knowing he’s wondering why this was such a big deal for you; but there’s no judgment there, just genuine concern for your well-being.

You decide to tell him the truth, or part of it.

“I almost drowned when I channeled for the first time,” you say quietly, gazing back down at the half-empty bottle. “It was fucking terrifying. I couldn’t shower alone for a week. I needed one of the girls to come into the bathroom with me and face the wall, just talking to me the whole time. Then we realized Bo can counter signets. He’s been helping me control it, but…”

So that’s what Xaden had meant when he said that Bodhi was helping you deal with things. He wonders if there’s anything else his brother hadn’t told him, anything you aren’t telling him, but he won’t demand an answer from you -- he knows how difficult it must have been for you to tell him what you did, and he won’t push you further.

He takes the bottle back and caps it, gathering you into his arms silently, the way he’d wanted to back in the gym. He’s careful not to put any pressure on the injury, keeping his hands well above the bruise -- one between your shoulder blades and one on your ribs, on the side that you hadn’t been hit.

You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking in a whisper. “Thank you, Li.”

His lips brush over your hairline, where the ache is the worst. “Of course, sweet girl.”

You don’t want to let go of him yet, but you’ve already been holding each other longer than is appropriate for friends -- and that’s all you are, for the time being.

He finally pulls away, and you could nearly cry at the loss of contact.

“I need a minute,” you manage. “You should head down.”

You’re reminded again of why you love him so much as he nods in understanding, shouldering his bag and giving you a soft smile before he heads out your door.

All good things must come to an end.

“Sweet? He must not know you at all.”

“He knows me better than you ever will,” you snap back.

At least she waited for him to leave, for you to be done with the water, or you would have some serious explaining to do.

You build up the wall again before she replies, and though it isn’t strong enough to block her out completely, she doesn’t push against it or knock it down -- she must not feel like getting into a pissing match with you right now.

Good. You don’t either.

You notice he left the bottle on your desk. You manage another three sips before you finally head down to dinner, where you slide into the open seat beside Liam, silently pushing the empty bottle toward him.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, not wanting to draw any attention from the group around you, who are all immersed in hearty conversation.

You haven’t heard those words from anyone in a long time. They mean more to you than he could ever imagine.

#liam and spark #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #liam mairi #mine

185 notes · View notes

squoxle · 1 year ago

Text

Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader

🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment

🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby

🎧 wc: 1.4k

You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.

Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.

He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.

Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.

You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.

It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.

“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”

“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”

That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.

“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”

“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”

“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”

“Tough.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.

His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.

“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.

“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”

“The Golden Rule.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”

“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”

You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”

He sighed, “10 at least.”

Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.

All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.

You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.

“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.

“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”

“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”

“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”

“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”

“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”

He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.

“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.

“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”

“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.

“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.

You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.

He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”

“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.

“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”

“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.

You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.

“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.

You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”

You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”

Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.

“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.

He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.

Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.

“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.

You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.

You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.

“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.

You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.

“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.

“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”

“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.

“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”

“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.

“Iced?”

“Always.”

He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.

“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon

#enhypen #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

388 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 1 year ago

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | twelve.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, a cute christmas hangout with yunho, yeosang and friends!, little acts of affection, soft kisses, making out, dry humping, neck kisses, cute lil teasing moments, progression!! 😚

—on rotation: snow flower - v & peakboy

—a/n: hi everyone! sorry for the delay, my updating schedule is outta wack rn 😭 i've been on vacay from work but i've been trying to take this time to rest so i haven't been writing as much. thanks for waiting for the new update! as promised, i also released san's one shot 🖤 you can find it here if you missed it!

"Oh my god, it's so cold!" Chaeryong squeals and squeezes your arm as the two of you find a good spot in front of the tree near the main entrance into campus. Tonight was the campus tree lighting, so tons of students and residents in the surrounding neighborhood came to get into the holiday spirit. "Okay, this is perfect! Come!" She gestures for Soobin and Seungmin to hurry.

"Who else is coming?" Soobin asks, sipping on the coffee he's been babysitting for an hour now.

"Hyunjin, Yeonjun, Minnie, Jongho—" Chaeryong puckers her lips to the side. "Everyone, basically." She chuckles.

"Is Yunho coming?" Your eyes quickly dart to Seungmin as he bites on his bottom lip to prevent himself from smirking. But, it's too fucking late cause now, the asshole has you blushing just by mentioning his name. You knew Yunho was coming, but you couldn't help but be nervous every minute you hadn't seen him.

"Hm, I think your answer is right there." Chaery subtly points to a wild Yunho standing in the crowd, speaking to Mingi before his eyes start to scan the place. His eyes meet yours and a soft smile grows on the corners of his lips. He bids farewell to his friend before walking over, your smile slowly growing as he gets closer. "Wow, he looks really good." Chaery says in your ear and giggles.

"Yeah, he does." You eye him in his black coat, white longsleeve, black jeans, black boots and a black and white scarf messily sitting around his neck. "Hey." You smile at him once he's finally in front of you. "You made it!"

"Mhm. And I bring hot cocoa." He hands over one of the cups in his hand and you scrunch your nose.

"Thank you."

"Of course." He looks at Chaery, Seungmin and Soobin. "Hey, sorry. If I had more hands, I would've brought more."

"Nonsense, Yuyu. I appreciate the thought!" He chuckles when she calls him that nickname he can't really stand, but he excuses it for Chaery anyway. "I'll make these guys useful." She turns to Soobin and Seungmin. "Come with me to get some hot cocoa please."

"I forgot my wallet." Seungmin lies, though he's only teasing and he'll buy her hot chocolate if she really wants him to.

"You liar, you have your card right there." Chaery points at his card on the back of his phone. "After all the things I've done for you.." She continues to go on as she drags Seungmin to the hot chocolate booth, leaving you, Soobin and Yunho in your spots.

"You know that place in town just opened, right?" Soobin sips on his drink.

"The christmas village with the ice skating rink?" He nods.

"Yup. We should go afterwards. The later we wait, the busier it might get." He looks at Yunho. "Yunho, you should come along with us!" Yunho gives him a smile and nods.

"Sure, I'm down." Sooner or later, the rest of your friends arrive, saying their hello's to both you and Yunho before squishing into the tight spot near the tree. But, because of the tight space, you find yourself now in front of Yunho while he stands closely behind you— chest barely ghosting your back. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You slightly turn over your shoulder to look at him and give him a reassuring nod. A few people are rushing over to the front, causing you to stumble to the side when they force their way through you and your group.

"Can you guys relax? Damn." Jongho says out loud, rolling his eyes. "It's a tree lighting, not a fucking mosh pit." Yeonjun laughs loudly, trying to calm him down.

"Jeez." Yunho puts his hand out to protect you from the rest squeezing their way through. "Come here, stay close to me." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, gently ushering you to the side and out of harm's way.

"Thank you." You lean into his touch, hoping he doesn't release the hold he has on you right now. Even though the both of you have gotten rather cozy over time, you still find yourself shy around Yunho because you like him.

A lot.

And you didn't want to rush anything, especially since you and Yunho haven't necessarily moved into a more 'serious' territory. Not that lots of time has passed, but part of you was starting to feel a bit scared and conflicted— wondering why Yunho hasn't taken you out on a date yet, or why things haven’t progressed much in general.

Little do you know that he's already been planning this for awhile, hoping to ask you on an official date tonight.

Yunho smiles to himself because he can already pick up on the little things you do, the little ways you ask for affection. He tightens his hold around you, giving you a small kiss on the back of your head before playfully resting his chin on top.

"Are you warm?"

"Kinda?" Yunho squints with a small smirk in his face.

"Lying to me?"

"Never." You pout and he laughs, handing you his cup.

"Please hold." You take his cup and watch him remove his scarf. He wraps it around your neck, enough that it engulfs you and instantly provides the heat you were looking for. His scarf smells exactly like him— hints of detergent with vanilla and musk. "Better?"

"Yes." He smiles at you in pure adoration before grabbing his cup and stepping back, resuming his hold on you from behind. "Yunho?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you actually wanna go later?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun."

"I'm just making sure." He chuckles.

"Don't worry about me." He kisses you on the temple just as Chaery and Seungmin find you two in the crowd.

"Lovebirds! What happened? Why is Jongho making that face?" Chaery furrows her brows at the group before sipping on her cocoa.

"Some people were rushing to the front." Chaery subtly eyes at the way Yunho is holding your waist, your fingers loosely laced with his.

"Aw, and Yuyu kept you safe!" You flash her a look as she stands nearby with Seungmin, Yunho giggling to himself.

"Hey." Suddenly, Yeosang pops up next to Seungmin and Chaery, his hands dug deep into his racer jacket.

"Was not expecting you to be here." Yunho laughs a bit, grabbing your cup to throw it away in the nearby trash can with his.

"I was already on campus so I figured I'd come." He looks at you and your friends, giving you all a small smile. "You guys look cozy."

"Trying to be." Chaery snuggles into her own scarf, while Seungmin dips into the neck of his jacket. "Nice to see you out though, Kang Yeosang! You should stay with us." She gently tugs on his jacket to bring him closer to the group.

"Can you let him decide on his own, please?" Seungmin looks at her, softly grabbing at her elbow to stop her from tugging on Yeosang's jacket.

"What! His roomie is here too. He's not entirely alone." Yeosang laughs and stands next to you and Yunho, also eyeing the way Yunho now has his arms around you to keep you close.

"Cute." Yeosang says, clearing his throat shortly afterwards. "What time did you get here?"

"Not too long ago." Yunho looks at his roommate. "I had to go home and change really quickly."

"Change, hm?"

"Too cold." Yunho shivers a bit, holding you close to him as you continue to talk to your friends.

"Yeah, he would!" Yunho and Yeosang overhear you say before you swing back to look at them. "Yeosang, you'd go with us to Santa's Wonderland, right?" Yeosang points at himself and you nod.

"I mean, I wouldn't just go there myself—"

"Then come along with us! We're going right after the lighting ceremony." You smile. "It'll be fun! Yunho is going, too!" Yunho turns to him and nods in agreement.

"You should, it'll be cool. Holiday season only comes once a year." Yunho shrugs.

"Uh, sure? I'll come. But, what is Santa's Wonderland?"

"It's super nice. They have a long light maze that's just made up of a ton of Christmas lights hanging everywhere. Then, there's the ice skating trail, plus there is a part called The Village where you can buy food or drinks." Soobin pauses. "Plus, you can listen to people sing or wait for their turn to talk to Santa. It gets you in the spirit." Soobin finishes his statement before you let out a small giggle.

"Sounds dope. I'll go." You release the breath you've been holding while waiting for Yeosang's response. You're glad he agreed to go, especially being that Yunho is the only person he knows well. You want to get to know Yeosang better, especially since you find yourself spending more and more time at the apartment. You want to be respectful of his space, too.

Just as everyone continues to talk about Santa's Wonderland, the university's president comes near the tree with a mic in hand— beginning the ceremony with his opening remarks. Shortly afterwards, a choir sings a few christmas carols before the president comes back to countdown the tree lighting. Yunho continues to hold you close, your hands resting on his arms as you both subtly sway to the christmas songs now playing on the speakers. The tree is lit beautifully in front of you, beautiful white and gold ornaments lining the branches. Yunho peers over, smiling to himself when he sees the light in your eyes, the glow bouncing off of your skin.

"It's so pretty." You mumble.

"You are." He says against your temple before planting another soft kiss there. You smile to yourself as your attention now shifts to the crowd, your friends happily swaying along to the music. Then, your eyes land on a familiar face across from you— your smile fading when they meet yours.

"Okay, please don't ruin our nice evening because of them." San taps Seonghwa on the chest when he realizes his bestfriend is still fixed on you and Yunho.

"Why can't you just let them be, Hwa? What's the purpose—" Mingi says through his teeth.

"Why, cause that's your friend?" Seonghwa looks at Mingi. "Why don't you go over there then?" Mingi sucks on his teeth.

"I'm just saying, don't you get tired? Let the girl be happy if she's happy."

"It's a phase."

"I don't think so." San mumbles under his breath, tired of seeing Seonghwa act this way when he should've gotten his shit together earlier. But he stays quiet; what can he do at this point? It's not like Seonghwa listens to any of them.

"Hwa." Hyeri pops out of the blue, her hand snaking around his arm.

"Hey."

"I was looking for you, you didn't answer my text so I wasn't sure if you were still coming." San and Mingi shoot each other a look when she comfortably stands next to him and holds onto his arm— you, now suddenly an afterthought with Hyeri around.

But, to each their own.

You truly hope Hwa moves on because you're happy.

"Should we get going? There's a couple of us that have cars."

"I drove so I can take a few people too." Yeosang says with his hands dug into his pockets.

"Same." Yunho adds.

"The lovebirds should be alone in the car." Seungmin says, laughing when Chaery pinches his arm. "It's the only privacy they'll get right now!"

"Alright, alright." Hyunjin finishes helping sort people into different cars. "Let's go!"

And so with that, the group splits between a few cars, including Yeosang's. As Seungmin promises, you are riding solo in Yunho's car; the heat blasting as soon as he drives off and follows Soobin's car.

The drive is about 15 minutes back north, nestled right by an outdoor shopping plaza. Your group circles the lot a few times before you all find parking in different areas, only meeting up at the entrance once you're all out of the cars. You happily hold Yunho's hand heading into Santa's Wonderland, the christmas lights hung everywhere shining nicely against the night sky. Yunho playfully twirls you around as you walk under the lit tunnel, gently nudging you to the center so he can take a few pictures of you. After he takes your pictures, the girls grab you and rush over to another portion of the maze, making the guys snap more pictures before it switches off.

"Pretty girl, look. Mind if I take you there?" Yunho comes from behind you and says softly in your ear. He points up at the mistletoe hanging above one of the archways you're approaching.

"Not at all." You smile, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks when he leads you right underneath— cupping your cheeks to place a soft, feathery kiss against your lips.

"I wanted to ask you something." Yunho caresses the surface of your cheek with his thumb.

"Hm?" You hum, head tilted to the side as you wait patiently for his next response.

"I.. was wondering if I could take you out, o-on a date? I know it's been some time, but I've been trying to plan the perfect date and all. I-I was hoping I could take you back home so we could do a few things there before seeing my mom and aunt." You blush and nod.

"I'd like that, Yunho."

"Nice." He says, making you laugh at how shy he's getting. At this moment, he feels everything inside ignite. He feels unstoppable, he feels like he's on top of the world;

Jeong Yunho is in love with you.

So, so genuinely in love with you.

"God, they're so cute." Chaery squeals as the group continues on, leaving you two to follow behind.

"It's nice to see Y/N genuinely happy. She really deserves it." Soobin digs into his hot fudge sundae.

"Yunho, too." Yeosang chimes in, drinking a white mocha. "He's been happier since they started.. I don't know what this is? Dating, I guess? They're like, official but not?"

"Huh, I guess you're right." Jongho adds. "Have they gone on a date yet?"

"Not that I know of."

"I think he's been planning it. He's asked for my opinion on a few random things, can't help but feel like they're part of his plan." Yeosang responds. "He's a really good guy. Whatever it is, I'm sure Y/N will really like it."

"I agree." Chaery giggles.

After taking more pictures and enjoying the rest of the light maze, the group finds their way to the ice skating trail. Everyone takes their time getting through the trail, your friends spread out at all different points. Yunho is surprisingly good at ice skating. You're not necessarily terrible, but you're not great either. You would rather take your time than try and breeze through the entire thing, just out of comfortability. He patiently holds your hand through the entire path, laughing loudly from time to time at the few instances you almost fall over.

Lastly, the group finally heads towards the village area to find snacks to munch on. There are a few local small businesses selling souvenirs and christmas gifts that you buy from along the way before finding yourself in front of a churro stand with Yunho. You and your friends take your snacks over to the live music, singing along and enjoying the music to wrap the night up.

It was a good time, and you loved that Yunho and Yeosang got along well with your friends. You wouldn't have imagined a better time with everyone, and you're really glad Soobin brought up the spontaneous idea.

Just an hour before closing, the crew heads home— with you, Yeosang and Yunho making your way back to their apartment, Chaery almost playfully dragging you back until Yunho promises her that he'll walk you back home the following morning and won't interrupt your time with her for the upcoming week. She giggles and waves you off, dragging Soobin and Seungmin back to your place.

Yeosang swings the door open to the apartment, and you immediately kick your shoes off to the side. The apartment is warm, causing you to shake off the remaining cold from your bones.

"What are you about to do? Hop on?" Yunho asks, making Yeo laugh.

"For a bit. I'm kinda lazy, ice skating took everything out of me." You giggle and nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I agree."

"Today was cool, though. Thanks for inviting me." Yeosang smiles at you and Yunho before slowly making his way to his room. You unwrap Yunho's scarf from around your neck and fold it neatly. Yunho grabs two water bottles before nodding towards his room, heading in first as you follow behind.

"Tired?" Yunho asks as he tosses his keys and wallet onto his dresser.

"Extremely." You look at him. "Is it okay if I grab a shirt and wash up?"

"Go for it." You quietly grab a longsleeve shirt from his pile, waddling into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Once you've deemed the hallway clear of Yeosang, you spring back into Yunho's room in his shirt; him eyeing your cute ass in his clothes.

He honestly will never get enough.

"Comfortable?" You plop onto his bed and start catching up to texts and your social media feed.

"Mhm."

"Did I ever mention how cute you look in my clothes?" Yunho scratches at his temple as he approaches his closet to grab his pajamas to change into.

"No." You giggle, making him turn to face you— leaning onto the edge of the bed to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"You look really cute in my clothes." He smiles against your lips before pulling back and heading to the bathroom. After a good couple of minutes, Yunho is back in the room and settles on his game chair. He pops his computer on, saying he'll probably play for a bit and that you're welcome to use his laptop for anything.

But, an hour quickly passes and Yunho is still immersed in his game. Which, you find endearing and cute. You love seeing him comfortable around you, just as you are with him. But after today and how sweet he was being, you just want Yunho. You want him to yourself, now, to be in his hold and to kiss him until you both get worn out.

You want him.

You find yourself straddling his lap again, your clothed core already feeling incredibly needy when you feel the bulge beneath you.

"What happened to being extremely tired?" Yunho teases as his eyes roam up your body. His hands are at your sides and underneath the shirt, radiating warmth against your skin.

"What happened to playing for a bit?" You tease back, hands at the nape of his neck.

"Sorry, princess." The petname sends shivers down your spine. "I was gonna wrap it up soon."

"Were you?" You giggle.

"I was. But, I can just do that later. What can I do for you right now?" He smirks, finger tracing a soft circle against your side; soft eyes now glued onto yours.

"I just want your company."

"Mm." He hums. "You have my company."

"Nah uh." You pout. "You're over here smashing the fuck out of your keyboard."

"Was not." He laughs. "Tell me." He says close to a whisper, lips only inches away from yours. "What do you really want?"

"A kiss."

"Just a kiss?" You shake your head just as his lips ghost yours.

"More than just a kiss."

"I think I can help with that." He responds. It's not long before he's locking his lips with yours, the first initial kiss being deep, long; connected until the both of you pull back for a breath. But, Yunho continues to take initiative— dipping in for another, more heated kiss. Your hand gently tugs on his hair, the kiss intensifying by the minute. Yunho slips his tongue in, his grip becoming tighter on your hips when he feels you shift in your position. He feels you subtly roll against him and it instantly drives him insane, sending the blood straight to his dick.

"Need you, Yunho."

"Hold onto me." He quickly says in between kisses. Suddenly, he swoops you up in one motion, careful not to break the kiss as he sits on the edge of the bed— giving you more space to rock against him and keep him close. The kiss is becoming sloppier, while you're no longer able to control yourself as you grind against Yunho's bulge. He lets out a small groan, his large hands coming to cup your ass to egg you to move more. "Was this what you wanted all along?" He asks as you nibble at his jaw before leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, sucking at the surface near the base.

"Yes." You breathe out, clit feeling the friction against the fabric of your panties, his clothed cock. You want Yunho so bad, you don't even realize how much you're rolling your hips against him, pace steady but enough to drive the both of you crazy.

"Fuck, feels too good." Yunho breathily says against your lips before gently biting onto your bottom lip and pulling back. "Baby—" He lets out another breath. "When that time comes—" He says against your neck before gently sucking on the surface; slowly, delicately, pausing in between his moves. "I'll make sure to make you feel good." He kisses your neck again. "I'll show you how much I adore you." Again. "Appreciate you." And again. "Want you to feel how special you are."

"Yunho—" His name comes out in a whimper, still grinding against him as you chase your high. Your lips fall back onto his for another sloppy, wet kiss; tongues fighting for dominance while Yunho tightens the grip on your hips. "Oh fuck—" You whine.

"Close, hm?" He gently grabs your chin, lips back against your ear before he nibbles onto your earlobe. "Wanna let go for me, pretty girl?" His voice is husky, fingers digging deep into your side. The petname he murmurs while he sits underneath you is enough to tip you over the edge, face contorting in pleasure when you feel your release completely take over. And Yunho is glad, because one, he can see how pretty you look when you reach your peak— trying your hardest to keep some control over your body as you ride out your high.

And two, Yunho felt like he was gonna fucking pop any second. Watching you tips him over the edge, allowing him to release all of the pent-up pleasure he had been harboring.

Yunho calls for your name before letting out another soft moan, his body slightly twitching against yours when he reaches his climax. You don't really stop moving until Yunho has finished, head shyly coming up from his neck to meet his eyes. Yunho thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's laid his eyes on, especially now with the post-pleasure glow. He can't wait to see what you look like when he finally gets to feel you, all of you, completely.

"You okay?" Yunho chuckles as he brushes the hair away from your face and gives you a tiny peck on the lips.

"Mhm." You shyly respond and he can't help but laugh a little more.

"So cute." He smiles at you before kissing your forehead. "I gotta go to the bathroom again." He taps your hips. "Kinda made a mess." You giggle and hop off his lap, plopping under the covers while he grabs a new set of boxers and sweats. You hear him quickly turn the shower on before he's out in the next 10 minutes, smelling fresh of his body wash. He tosses his clothes off into the hamper, shutting off his computer before slipping into the bed next to you.

"Do you still wanna watch that movie?" Yunho snorts.

"I'm okay. But, are you? You'll fall asleep."

"I can stay up!" You pout as you look up at him from his chest.

"Okay, cutiepie. If you say so." He pulls up his laptop to bring up Netflix.

"Yunho, what if your mom and aunt don't like me?"

"What?" He looks at you. "They will. I know they will. How could they not?"

"I don't know, I'm just nervous to meet them. I want to make a good impression, of course. I want them to like me and have no worries about me, or.. us?" Yunho gives you a tiny smile.

"They won't. I promise, okay? They'll love you." He navigates the movie. "Besides, they already know about you and have probably looked you up on Facebook." You shoot up from your position and look at him with a brow cocked up.

"What do you mean they looked me up on Facebook— you gave them my Facebook?!"

"No!" Yunho smiles. "More like.. I told my mom your name and she took the initiative to look you up. I'm sure she showed it to my aunt by now."

"Yunho." You whine. "My picture on there is so old!"

"So?! I'm sure you still look beautiful as ever." He grabs your hand and pulls you back down. "Y/N, don't worry about it. I swear they'll love you, okay? Old Facebook photo or not."

"Okay, okay." He kisses your forehead.

"Okay." He repeats after you.

"Where are you taking me for our date?"

"Um, don't worry about that either." Yunho laughs. "Don't try and be slick. You won't get it out of me." You pout again and he shakes his head. "Nope. Here, the movie is playing."

"Fine." You snuggle against him, eyes glued onto the screen as the movie starts.

Sooner or later, Yunho doesn't hear you reacting anymore, and it's obvious that you indeed fell asleep. He tilts his to get his confirmation, seeing your eyes shut and your breathing at a resting rate. He chuckles to himself before gently shutting off his laptop and setting it aside, adjusting his position to engulf you in his arms.

"The movie." You sleepily mumble.

"Too tired. Let's sleep. Goodnight, babygirl." You don't respond. Yunho smiles and kisses your head before shutting his eyes— going to bed the happiest he's been in awhile.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunholuvrsblog @mingigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion

360 notes · View notes

saltminerising · 1 month ago

Note

Hello. In front of you is the new dragon breed. You are ready to write a post about how you feel the breed is to inelegant, to be the Light ancient. You must word this post in a way that does not equate fatness to inelegance, or one billion explosions upon you. Your time starts now.

Already starting to see people claim that the new ancient can't be elegant or calling them ugly due to being fat and my god I hope they delete every single skinny slender dragon off the website

Crazy seeing everyone assigning beauty standards to dragons. You guys are trying to give my dragons body dysmorphia !!!!!!

It's so meta that the Knowledge is Power Flight ancient is shining a light on all the fatphobes. Everlux really getting these people to say with their outside voice what they think about fat and specifically non-proportional people.

people calling the new breed ugly bc they "look gross" and "like a blob" certainly is... a take. what fun implications those are!

not checking the forums abt the new breed anymore cuz if i see one more motherfucker go "i wanted a pretty elegant beautiful gorgeous nice dragon but instead we got a FAT one :(" im gonna start biting people.

the number of people saying the everlux look DISEASED is so sad and hurtful. we get like the third "fat" dragon out of over 2 dozen breeds and you have so much repulsion and hatred toward fat bodies that you think it looks sick.... i guess i should learn to stay out of the forums but this is so depressing to me

The obsession for every breed to look exactly like their flight theme is very weird. And the fact people are upset the everluxes aren't "elegant" smells like fatphobia. I already blocked three people calling them diseased and non-elegant or whining they aren't what they expected out of a light ancient.

ah yes, the fatphobia has begun

"why aren't they thin pretty angels straight out of my idea of christianity :(" because they're awesome fat bugs. sucks to suck

it's not fatfobia it's just very sincere health concerns for fictional pixel dragons

hate on the new light ancient without being a fatphobic bastard challenge level: impossible

"Anyone else disappointed in the Everlux?" Control F the word "fat" for a bad time

all these people like "waaah everluxes cant be elegant waaah" like. man youre just saying that because theyre fat right. people want to say they don't like that the breed is fat but they don't want to SAY it, its so cowardly

#ancient mystery #fatphobia #forums #long post

43 notes · View notes

butterphii · 4 months ago

Text

"Besties"

TW: Friends to lovers, kissing/making out, bulge/thigh riding, dry humping, didn't know they were dating, pet names (but in a more friendly way), praise

This was for the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge hosted by @burntheedges! Thank you so much for letting me join!

-------------------Joel Miller---------------------

You and Joel had been best friends for years. You did everything with him. You were always together. That's why it didn't surprise you when rumors spread around town about you two dating. What did surprise you, though, was that you wouldn't be mad if you were dating.

"Did you know people are saying we're t'gether?" You turned, talking to Joel when he was sitting at your dining room table. He nearly spit out his whiskey. "What?" He laughed, loud and gruff. You loved his laugh.

You walked over to the table, bottle of hard lemonade in hand. "I know, right?" You said. "I wouldn't be mad if we were, though.." You very quietly mumbled to yourself when he looked back down, laughing.

"I can't believe people are actually thinking that, I mean like..it's just that we spend every minute of almost every day together and are the bestest friends ever.." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and laughing at you. "Oh, fuck off!" You threw a balled up napkin at him before breaking out into laughter yourself.

"Fuck, ohmygod, I love you, baby." Joel chuckled, catching his breath. "Jesus Christ, love ya too, Joe." You wheezed. "I mean, y'know, it would make sense if we were, right? Like..maybe we should pretend to, like a prank to people." He said before finishing off his drink. "What was that? You in love w'me Joel fuckin' Miller?" You stared into his eyes, sipping your drink.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You lovin' me now?" Joel asked back, trying to cover up his embarrassment, hinting to you he really did want to try with you. "Ohh, so you DO want to date me!!" You yelled at him, howling into a fit of giggles. "Maybe I fuckin' am! You're basically my 'platonic' wife! You wouldn't be mad if I said yes, would..you?" He said loudly, but then quieting towards the end, questioning his words. "Honestly, no. I'd like to try with you, an' if it don't work, we can still be besties." You said, emphasizing the word "besties".

He quieted, his eyes making their way from your stomach to your chest, chest to your lips, lips to your eyes, and eyes back to your lips. His mouth parted, but he was stuttering to make out words. "Joel, can I kiss you?" You asked, looking down, then up at him. He nodded, you walking around to his side of the table and straddling his lap.

You kissed Joel's lips delicately at first, little pecks at a time, until his tongue grazed your lower lip, begging for you to open. You allowed him to deepen the kiss, your tongues dancing together in a solid rhythm when you felt his cock harden under you. You gasped when it twitched under the wetness soaking through your pants.

You moaned into your kiss, grinding your hips slowly. Joel groaned back, your hands roaming his graying curls and his on your lower back, reaching into your shirt. You started to speed up, your hips creating an amount of friction against his he groaned your name and praised you.

"Fuck, you're doing so good..oh my god.." He groaned into your lower lip, your forehead resting on his. "M' gonna cum..i's comin', oh, fuck.." He moaned into your chin, staring down at you both working to pleasure one another. His words seemed to connect you to him, watching him cum and feeling the warmth of his seed soak through his pants and warn up your pussy made you feel like you were going to burst if you didn't release.

"Joel, oh fuck, I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off before you screamed into his shoulder. His name dropped out of your mouth a million times before you were both too tired to do anything, just panting on each other's shoulders.

"I love you, Joe." You whispered to him. "I love you too, baby." He panted, slithering his face into the crook of your neck to kiss it, you giggling.

#smut #x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel tlou #tlou joel #tlou #rollatropechallenge #roll a trope challenge

48 notes · View notes

bleedingcoffee42 · 2 months ago

Text

Little Speirton drabble I wrote after reading one of those 'Don't write out accents' writing advice posts and saying 'challenge accepted'. Then Lipton's Holland file mentioned Smokey's accent so...

And forgive my tense shifts, I have not slept much this week and past/present/future is one and all when you wake up at 2:30 am every day for no fucking reason.

Captain Ron ‘Killer’ Speirs came back to the billet drunk. Carwood paid no mind to that, soldiers drinking off duty was hardly notable, and he was not going to say a damned thing to a superior officer about it either. He thought Speirs a different kind of officer, more disciplined with himself, but he didn’t really know the man that well. Besides, even if he wasn’t a man who liked to drink, taking Lewis Nixon up on an offer to ‘celebrate his promotion’ would undoubtedly lead to this inebriated mess staggering into the room.

Then Speirs landed on his bed, fell really, and hiccupped. His face was flushed and it almost looked like tears were streaming down his face. Ron Speirs, the man, the killer, the legend, was sitting on Carwood’s bed and crying. He put his book away and sat up, “Sir, are you alright?”

“No, suh.” Ron said and wiped his eyes. Fuck. He’s in hell. He’s crying and a goddamned mess and he can see on Lipton’s face how bad he looks and sounds.

“Can I help?” Lip has no idea what he’s signing up for. He doesn’t know Speirs, even though they’ve both been hinting they want to know each other a little better. Or as Luz would put it, ‘Just fuck him already, it would be less embarrassing than how you two look at each other every second of the god damned day.’ That moment could have been tonight, but Nixon and Welsh….

Oh no. Nixon and Welsh gave him a push. Shit!

Lip grabbed a pile of fresh handkerchiefs he found in a home they cleared and handed one to Speirs. He looks back at him like he just gave him the world.

After an attempt to stop the water from coming out of his eyes and blowing his nose, Ron attempted to form a coherent sentence without crying. “After suppah…”

Lip raised his eyebrows and can’t help but crack a smile. The captain looked so soft, so sad, so majestically beautiful and absolutely wasted. Wasted enough to let his Boston accent surface and it’s adorable.

Ron gave up, just gets mad at himself, and finally words come out like they should with more force and bite than intended. “I have taken care of myself all my life. They say when they make you a captain they ruin you. I haven taken care of myself all my life and I’m drunk. I think they’re right, when they make you a captain, they ruin you.”

Carwood stood up and put his hands on Speirs, no, Ron’s shoulders- because he can not look at his CO right now as anything but a friend who has come to him in his time of need. Despite years of intense training, surviving D-Day, Holland and Bastogne, Ron has been defeated by the bottle. “How about you sleep it off? Your secret is safe with me.”

“Yah huh.” He put his head on Lip’s chest and sniffled.

“ Nobody will remember this in the morning.” Lip assured him and rubbed his back in an effort to console him.

“Life is ruined.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Lip figured he might as well run a hand through that majestic hair of his and not have any regrets. It prompts Ron to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him closer.

“Cah…Cahwood?”

Lip has to admit he likes the accent. A lot. “Yeah, Ron?

He giggles. “You called me Ron.”

“Under the circumstances,” Lip said as the man lifts his head and looked up at him with glassy, red eyes, and the most soft and adoring look. “I feel we’re solidly into the casual here.”

Ron grinned, his head is swimming and he’s not sure if it’s the booze or the way Carwood’s hand is still on his head and is now brushing some hair from his eyes. He melts into the touch.

Carwood has a hard time rationalizing the drunken man rubbing his head against his hand like a kitten with the man he is in combat. Or the beautiful man in the convent that made him have a good dream for the first time in a year. The man currently running a hand down his back and squeezing his ass cheek.

“They did it….” Ron said. “Lickah did this.”

“Lick what?” Carwood asked and sounded out that last one only to realize he said liquor and not suggest he put his tongue on something. It’s Carwood’s turn to have his cheeks turn red.

“Nix. Welsh.” Ron said and licked his lips. “Cause me and you in church. In front of Easy. Nuns. Gahd.”

Lip sighed. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Not when I’m drunk.” Ron said firmly.

Lip felt a tingle of excitement at that, like Ron has already made the decision for both of them to advance this thing of theirs. He’s not really sure this is part of his life he wants controlled by his CO, but he wants to know and define exactly what is crackling between them. Find out why he’s drawn to Ron, how naturally he gravitates to being by his side, and closer in proximity than he has been to anyone outside of a foxhole the entire war. Plus there is the fact Ron touches him so much, as pointed out by Luz on every occasion. He’s not sure how to balance the military protocol, the professionalism with the personal and…Ron’s squeezing his ass again.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Okay.” Lip said and Ron let go, and he felt the absence of that embrace immediately. He watched Ron rub his eyes and look at his own bed which is farther away than he must want to go. “Just use my bed, sir.”

“Suh.” Ron snorts. “Cahwood, I…”

“Use my bed, Ron.” Lip says as he moves to get the pillows adjusted and take his book. It’s all of five minutes before the man more than half the 506 feared is passed out on his pillow.

Xxxxx

Ron felt awful. His eyelids were heavy, his head was pounding and there was an unfamiliar smell on his pillow that was making his morning wood throb. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and was thankful the room was dark.

“There is water on the floor next to your bed and some aspirin. Don’t worry about your morning duties, I took care of them all. Welsh and Nixon were still up, drinking, asking if you want to come back for a breakfast cocktail of some kind or Irish coffee.”

Ron groaned as he tried to move. So his pillow smelled like Lipton. Because he had come in last night, crying and falling into his bed and hugged him and grabbed his ass. “Pass.”

“Good to hear.” Lip said and smiled to himself. “Also good to hear I don’t need to find a translator for Bostonian in case you want to address the men this morning.”

Yeah, where the fuck did that come from? Ron tried so damned hard the entire war to cultivate an image of the perfect soldier, a fearless leader, a trigger happy war criminal who didn’t come to bed crying about a few drinks too many. “I..”

“It’s fine, suh.” Lipton chimes in trying his best at replicating his C.O. 's accent.

Ron hums. He remembered Lipton talking about his friend,the machine gunner that got shot up in Bastogne. He was giving the boys an update on his condition, which wasn’t great. So, of course, kind Sergeant Lipton chimed in with a more upbeat story about Smokey, that was his name, from Holland when they found each other at the replacement depot. Because his southern friend said ‘hyeh’ in his southern accent instead of ‘here’. Noted. Carwood had a thing for accents. Perhaps he could let a few things slide every now and again for his amusement.

Lipton squatted down beside the bed and he is sure Ron can see him in the darkened room. He pulled the curtains closed to give him something less horrible to wake up to. “Anything I can get for you?”

“A quick death.”

“You’ll survive.” Carwood said and resisted the temptation to ruffle up his COs hair, then stood up. “You’ll survive or I’ll come find you and drag you back. We waited long enough for you as a CO, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Ron wasn’t expecting to wake up to the kindness of Carwood Lipton this morning any more than he was expecting to wake up hungover.

“You should stay in bed, though. The men will appreciate not dealing with you with a hangover and you deserve a day off. So, not to abuse my new power as a Lieutenant, but you need to take the bed this time, suh.”

Ron smiles and he knows Carwood can probably see it.

#speirton #carwood lipton #ronald speirs #band of brothers #fic #with TIL because I document my fanfic better than Ambrose footnoted BoB

30 notes · View notes

valhallaas · 2 years ago

Text

Love Me Tender

pairing: jake hangman seresin x artist!reader

word count: 2k

warning: none, only fluff

summary: when the greek god in your bed knows you better than you know yourself

a/n: this is for @roosterforme’s love is in the air tgm challenge! Thank you for letting me be apart of it. Writing soft Jake really did something to my heart, let me tell you. I hope you guys love it!

Rain pitter patters outside. It’s two in the morning, you should be asleep but it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. How did Atlas do it? Bear so much weight, but never broke. Your knees are starting to buckle from the pressure. You asked for this, of course you did. There isn’t anything you’d trade it for. Turning your head, a satisfied smile rests on your lips. I’ll make it baby, he said. I’ll make it all night. Jake lays next to you, his breaths deep and even. You’d picked him up from the airport not too long ago. You’re sure he doesn’t even know what day it is. He’s just happy to be home. You’re happy to have him home.

Slowly, as not to wake him, you shift your covers and climb out of bed. A nice fire and a cup of tea sounded perfect to go with the rain. It’s not like you were getting any sleep anyway. Rubbing at your eyes, you make your way to the living room not bothering to flick on any lights. You’d been in this house long enough you could map it blind folded. Turning on the kettle, you made your way to the back sliding glass door to grab some wood. You’re more than thankful that Jake had cut more fire wood than needed last winter. He was always saving your back.

With the crackle of the fire you made it to the kitchen just in time, hearing the whistle of the kettle. It’s nearing three a.m. but you’re still wide awake. You’re stirring honey into your cup when you hear the creak of the floorboards. That didn’t last long, but that’s the way it goes. How either of you survive when he’s deployed is a mystery. He can’t sleep without you when he’s home.

Warm hands set themselves on your shoulders causing goosebumps to break out across your skin. Soft lips press against the back of your exposed neck, your eyes shut at the feeling. No, you hadn’t wanted to wake him, he needed his sleep, but you were glad he was here with you.

“What are you doin’ honey?” His voice is run through gravel, coated with sleep.

“Think I’m going to draw some.”

Jake hums, turning you in his grip so you’re facing him. His hands trail up from your shoulders to cradle your face. His thumb ghosts over your bottom lip, once, twice before you nip at it making him smile.

“I’ll get your supplies. Go get comfy.”

You should be drawing the view right now, but you’re not.

It’s not for lack of inspiration. There’s a reason you weren’t sleeping. You wanted to catch the storm. In any other circumstance you’d be completely captivated by the dark beauty of it all—the slow flowing raindrops rolling down the window. The dark clouds that keep the moon from shining in its dim light, all the stars hidden away. The quick flash that freezes the dried leaves and barren trees swaying in the winter air, giving you the perfect picture. Winter storms were your favorite and they were hard to come by. You normally wouldn’t pass this up. But somehow, your inspiration is solely coming from the man lying on the couch across from you. He’s sprawled out, relaxed, and completely at ease. His arms are folded behind his head, eyes closed as he breathes in deeply.

You told him to go back to bed, but he wasn’t sleeping without you. So this is the compromise. There’s a playlist on your phone playing through the speakers. One you always listen to when Jake’s away. Maybe that’s what keeps pulling your attention to him. The glow of the fire paints him in the warmest hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, making his lightly tanned skin glow. You smile, teeth biting into your cheek when green eyes flick over every few minutes to check that you’re still here with him, and it’s mesmerizing, his gaze. It’s almost the same color you thought his aura to be. Calm, steady, grounding, secure.

You keep your eyes trained on the sketchbook in your lap, attempting not to be conspicuous when you look up to study him every now and then. The idea makes you snort. As if your staring has ever bothered him. You stared so hard when you first met him that you hadn’t heard a thing he said to you for about three minutes. It was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you, but hey, he thought you were the cutest thing.

It all worked out.

When he looks up at you now and catches you lost in thought as you admire him, his lips tilt up into a teasing grin. You wink at him before looking back down at the book. You’ve drawn him a hundred times before. This one is probably your favorite. Him at home, content with you. Holding the piece back a bit, you study your favorite parts. The gentle way his lashes rest against his cheeks. The slope of his nose. He looks peaceful. Godlike. Not that you’d ever tell him that, his ego did not need to hear it.

“What are you drawing over there, honey?”

You don’t have to look up from the sketchbook to know that his smirk has turned more haughty than before, and when he leans forward a little, you lean back at the same time to keep your sketchbook out of his reach.

He knows you draw him. He’s seen a few of them. He’s seen almost all of your artwork. In fact, he has one of your drawings tattooed on him. He got it while on your honeymoon. You thought he was crazy but he thinks he was being romantic. Whatever. But this one, it feels different. More personal. It’s not him being vulnerable on the page, but you as well.

“Just the rainstorm,” you lie, with a little shrug, looking back out the window for added effect, scrunching your eyes slightly as if to examine it in depth.

“The rainstorm,” he repeats. He doesn’t believe you. Not like he has to. He knows without a doubt you’re lying. “That why you keep looking at me?”

“Maybe I just missed you, ever think of that?” You counter, but it comes out in a harsh whisper, like you're trying not to cry. Closing the sketchbook quickly, you nearly jam your finger in between the pages. His gaze burns over you, taking you in from your averted gaze, hands clenching your sketchbook, your rigged posture, back pressed so hard against the couch, as if purposely trying to keep a distance from him.

“Baby, I’m right here.”

You huff. As if you don’t already know this. Like you haven’t had your eyes on him since you crashed into him at the airport, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. It’s why you can’t sleep—because he’s home. He’s here and all you want is him close. You want him with you. You want him living inside you where he can’t ever escape; where the thought of losing him is only a nightmare. Your eyes have gone misty, something you can’t hide when you glance up at him when you feel a finger lazily drag up your leg. You raise your brows trying to feign innocence as you place the sketchbook on the other side of you. He could easily reach it if he wanted to, you’d have no chance at keeping it from him, but it seems that he can sense the anxiety radiating off of you. Jake’s smirk falls into something softer, gentler. Something you’ve only seen a handful of times—something that he saves just for you.

“Dance with me.”

You hesitate for a small second. “What?”

His eyes brighten as he pulls himself up into a sitting position. He grabs your phone that’s sitting on the coffee table and raises the volume. Suddenly, it’s three years ago, the beginning of June and you’re standing in the middle of an empty Texas pasture dressed in white. The song tugs on your heartstrings more than it ever has before. Jake’s eyes slightly crinkle with his smile.

“Dance with me.” he says softly as he extends his hand out for you to take.

For, my darling, I love you And I always will Love me tender, love me long Take me to your heart For it’s there that I belong And we’ll never part

Without much effort you're in his arms, swaying to the song that played during your first dance as a married couple. You can’t seem to stop the tears that fall from your eyes. You aren’t sad, but this feels like a lot. He’s got you wrapped up in him. One arm wrapped around your waist holding you to him, while the other is cradling your head, fingers weaved through your hair. Your head rests on his shoulder, hands tight around his waist, both of you lost in each other, in the magic of the firelight, the silence of the early morning.

“Do you regret marrying me?” Jake whispers in your ear.

“No.”

“You’d choose this life again?”

“I’d choose you every time no matter what it meant. I can deal with this, Jake, long as I get you back every time. Every time.”

His eyes rest heavy on you, and your pulse starts to race when the soft light in his eyes slightly darkens into something else. His gaze lingers on your lips long enough for you to tilt your chin up, bringing your mouth closer to his, and when his lips realign to that familiar smirk you know, like always, he’s more aware of the effect he has on you than he should be. Maybe you should be embarrassed by that, but it makes things easy. You never have to ask, he just knows. Like how you’re standing here with the electric hum of excited energy flooding your veins already, desperately waiting to feel his mouth on yours. He lowers his head slowly, eyeing you with a playful gleam telling you that he’s teasing you — that he knows his slow pace is driving you crazy. But it doesn’t last long, the moment you run your tongue along your bottom lip, his playful attitude breaks, and his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer as his hand slips down to grab at your thigh. Without much thought you jump, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you back to your bedroom.

With Jake, kisses are more than just feeling his lips against yours. It’s his calloused fingers slowly brushing the inside of your thighs, in a slow teasing motion, that drives you crazy until you're grinding against him. Desperate for him to touch you, really touch you. It’s the taste of his spearmint tongue brushing against your own, sending white-hot jolts of pleasure straight down to your core. It’s the smell of him—intoxicating, mouthwatering, enough to make you weak at the knees. But more than anything, it’s the sound of him—of the deep exhales when your fingers dip into the band of his pajama pants to tease him, the throaty groan when you grind your hips down into his, the position of you resting over him on your bed one of power, one he gives only you. It’s the surprised laugh that echoes from him whenever you nibble on his bottom lip or pull away to catch your breath.

Your seconds away from doing that when he breaks away from the kiss, grinning up at you like he knows you weren’t breathing. He probably does. The man knew you like the back of his hand from the moment you met. Jake only shakes his head, a soft laugh pouring out of him, his thumb running along your cheekbone. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars and the moon. But that can’t be right, can it? Not when he’s magic, a myth. Something you can’t really phantom. A god in your bed, carved marble under your fingertips. He is Apollo and you, Icarus, willing to burn for a moment of his time. Willing to go to war with the sun, a battle you know you will never win.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

He smiles against yours. “And I love you.”

#love is in the air tgm #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman Seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin one shot #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #jake hangman Seresin fanfic

1K notes · View notes

thelikesofus · 2 years ago

Text

ring the bells

9-1-1 on Fox | Buddie | 5k words | Coffee Shop AU | alternative first meeting, fluff, getting together, first kiss, meet-cute

Written for @ronordmann's Reverse Prompt Challenge. Thank you so much Ro for inspiring me to try writing something out of my comfort zone with this fic <3

"Order for Evan!"

If ever Buck was to die of happiness it would be in this moment. For hours he has been craving, yearning for some sort of hot, sugary drink. It started with a call to a chocolate factory and ended with an empty milk carton in the firehouse refrigerator and an apologetic look on Chimney's face.

As soon as Buck got off his forty-eight-hour shift he had made a beeline for the nearest cafe. It was not his usual, he would typically stop at the coffee shop closer to his apartment on his way to work, but this place wasn't busy and Buck is desperate for a sugar hit.

It's because he's so desperate that Buck is taking the first mouthful as he's walking out of the store.

He anticipates the smooth cream and sweet syrup, the spice of cinnamon to balance it all out but the mouthful slides over his tongue like hot, bitter tar and lands in the bottom of his stomach like a rock.

"God–what the?" He sticks his tongue out and tries to rid his mouth of the taste. That is definitely not the coffee that he ordered.

For a brief moment, Buck considers that maybe the universe just knew that he actually wanted black coffee but then decides that that's stupid and the universe is wrong this time because he definitely really wanted the drink he thought he ordered.

So, against every ex-hospitality worker fiber of his being, he turns back to the counter and gets the attention of the barista that served him 'his' drink.

"Hi there," he starts as brightly as he can for seven o’clock in the morning. "I'm so sorry to do this but I think you've given me the wrong drink. I ordered a caramel latte with cinnamon but this is, well, black."

"Oh!" The barista looks shocked for a second as he checks the order dockets on the counter in front of her. "I'm so sorry, I must have–."

"Given him mine." An unfamiliar voice sounds from next to Buck and when he turns he finds what is potentially the most beautiful man in all of the greater Los Angeles area.

The barista nods. "Yes, I'm so sorry. I will remake them both right away."

The man eyes Buck's outstretched hand oddly before saying, "No need." He looks at Buck and Buck's sleep-deprived brain almost gets lost in the chocolate of his eyes. "Do you have any diseases I should know about?"

Buck stops short. "I'm–. What?"

"Diseases." The man says—like that it is a normal thing to ask a stranger. "Are you contagious or anything? I'm in a rush."

"Ah, no. I don't think so."

"Good. I'll just take this one then." And then he reaches for the coffee that is not Buck's coffee but is in Buck's hand and Buck is too baffled to do anything but let him take it. The man disappears from the cafe and Buck is left standing at the counter with his arm still outstretched towards the barista who looks just as confused but shakes herself out of it faster than Buck does.

"I'll remake yours now." He says briskly. "Won't be a minute."

"Ah, yeah. Thanks." Buck mumbles dumbly and turns to see the man's retreating back disappear around the corner.

The barista hands him a new cup a few moments later along with a five-dollar bill, obviously intending to refund him for the mistake, but he tucks it straight into her tip jar, thank you kindly, and then leaves, the bell ringing behind him as he goes.

Continue on AO3

#buddie #buddie fic #reverse prompt challenge #round 5 #meegs writes stuff #coffee shop au #911 fox #911 abc #911fic #911 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #911 on fox #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #911 on abc

251 notes · View notes

mintkookiess · 1 year ago

Text

I'm already addicted to you. (Gwen Stacy x Fem!reader)

I've decided to take a break from Miles and enter the Gwen brainrot....

This was so self-indulgent but I hope y'all enjoy cause writing this got me kicking my feet fr

Love,

Mint

Summary: You and your best friend Gwen were hanging out by a park, laying down on the grass just chilling together.

Tags: Gwen Stacy x Fem!reader, fluff, lots of kisses, teasing, reader is dead sarcastic, friends to lovers, JUST LOTS OF KITH KITH

Word count: 1.7k

Gwen laughed at the nth joke you made in the past hour. You were both laying on the grass laughing your asses off over stupid lame jokes. They weren't funny, which is what makes Gwen laugh. You look over at her with a mischievous smirk, "I'm just too good at these jokes thing."

The blonde scoffed, playfully shaking her head. "No, you're not, they're not funny." You rolled your eyes at her words, but the smirk never left your lips. "They are! I mean look at you practically tearing up from laughing so much." You huffed.

Gwen shook her head as she returned to lay on her back, with you mimicking her as the both of you stared up at the sky. After a few moments of silence, she shifted her body slightly so that she was now resting on her side, facing you. "I'm glad we could spend the day like this," she said, her voice slightly quieter. "it's nice to just relax and forget I was ever Spiderwoman for a little while."

You copied Gwen, propping your head up on your elbow as you also turned to your side, smiling at Gwen. "You're right, days like these are the dream." You chuckled, the soft breeze gently flowing through your hair.

Gwen noticed you looking at her and felt her cheeks flush lightly. She quickly looked away and pretended to be interested in a bird flying by. "Yeah, it's nice to just hang out with a friend," she said, trying to keep the conversation casual. "I'm glad we have each other to lean on like this,” Gwen said, looking back at you with a small smile.

"Oh god, since when were you cheesy huh?" You laughed, pushing Gwen's shoulder with your finger gently. To which the blonde laughed along, feeling more at ease with the teasing. "Hey I can be cheesy sometimes," she said with a grin. "It's part of my charm after all." She nudged you back playfully and then looked up at the sky.

"But seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my best friend and I love hanging out with you." Gwen said with a more sincere tone. "Yeah yeah, I get it." You playfully rolled your eyes, chuckling as you looked at Gwen once more, your eyes seemingly squinting along with your smile.

"You know, I was thinking," she said in a contemplative tone. "Maybe we should do something crazy, like, something we've never done before." She looked at you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "What do you say?"

"Please, we've already done every crazy thing we could ever think of." You chuckled, laying down on your back once more. "The only crazy thing we haven't done is kiss at this point." You said jokingly, closing your eyes to enjoy the breeze.

Gwen's eyes widened in surprise at your comment, and her flushed cheeks now turned a bright shade of red. She quickly looked away, hoping you didn't see her reaction. "Ha, yeah right," she said, trying to play off your joke. "We're just friends remember?" She smirked, turning back at you. "Besides, I don't think you could handle my kissing skills." She said cockily.

Your eyes shot open, raising an eyebrow at your best friend. "I so can!" You said in mock offense, lifting your head a little to look at Gwen better. The blonde girl raised an eyebrow, amused by your response. "Oh really?” She said with a challenging tone. "Well, I guess there's only one way to find out."

She leaned forward closer to you, a playful grin still decorating her lips. "You ready?~"

"Go on, hit me with your best shot." You smirked, testing your best friend. Gwen chuckled, moving further down on you, her eyes locked on yours before closing the small distance between the two of you. She placed her lips on yours in a gentle kiss, the sensation sending an electric feeling into you and Gwen's bodies simultaneously.

She could feel her heart racing in her chest and after a few more seconds, she pulled away from you, her signature smirk returning to her lips. "Well, what do you think?"

You scrunched your eyebrows together, humming in contemplation. "I'll give that like a 7 out of 10." You said, teasing Gwen as your lips formed a full smile. Your best friend rolled her eyes in feigned annoyance, but her heart was still racing with adrenaline.

"A 7 out of 10? Really?" She said, pretending to be offended. "I guess I'll just have to try harder next time,” Gwen said, giving you a playful wink. "But I have to admit, that kiss wasn't too bad."

"I bet I can do you one better." You said smugly, clearly enjoying this a bit too much. Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise, intrigued by your statement. "Oh really? I'd like to see you try," she then leaned in closer once more, her eyes sporting a small glint of excitement. "So, show me what you got."

The corner of your lips curled upward as you pushed Gwen by her shoulder to make her lay on her back on the grass with you hovering above her. "I'm so gonna beat you." You mumbled, before enveloping Gwen's lips between yours, closing your eyes softly as you caressed her cheek.

Poor Gwen was taken aback by how easily you kissed her but she quickly relaxed into it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her heart rate was slowly increasing once more as your lips met hers. Feeling an unexpected swarm of butterflies in her stomach as she melted from your touch.

She wrapped her arms around your torso, bringing you closer to deepen the kiss. Gwen later on slowly pulled away and looked up at you with a dazed expression. "Wow," she breathed out. "I think you won that round."

"You think?" You grinned, before kissing her one more time, surprised at how nice Gwen's lips felt in between yours. It was an unexpected discovery.

Gwen instantly returned the kiss, feeling a newfound attraction to you. You smiled against her lips as you slowly detached her, clearly enjoying how flustered Gwen looked beneath you. "Okay, now you've definitely won." She chuckled, "I think I might need some time to recover."

Your hand rested on Gwen's side, smiling down at her triumphantly. "You weren't so bad either." You mumbled, your breath slightly fanning Gwen's lips.

Her heart skipped a beat at your words and she couldn't help but smile up at you. "Thanks... I think?" She laughed softly. Gwen mimicked your action from a while ago and placed a hand on your cheek, stroking it gently. "I'm really glad we did this," she said, her voice soft. "I think... this was exactly what I needed?"

"Mhm, kissing with your best friend? Definitely a stress reliever." You joked, laughing as you kissed Gwen's cheek teasingly. In return, your best friend snickered at your comment, feeling more relaxed than she's had in a while. "Who knew that making out with your best friend could be so therapeutic?" Gwen joked back.

She pushed her head upward to kiss you on the cheek as well, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her like a tidal wave. You laughed softly, before pecking Gwen's nose. "Yup, definitely therapeutic." You said under your breath. Your hand began to rub tiny circles on her side soothingly making Gwen shiver from your touch

"At least it's with you, I don't think I could ever do this with anyone else." She said, gathering enough courage to kiss you on your lips once more, finding herself seeking your warmth.

"Oh yeah, cause best friends definitely do this." You replied sarcastically but returned Gwen's kiss nevertheless. "You know, I think I might be falling for you." She suddenly said.

"With just a few kisses? Wow, I must've underestimated my charm huh?" You teased, nuzzling your nose against Gwen's. The blonde girl beneath you could only titter at your response. “You are pretty charming, but I think it's more than just a few kisses."

Gwen lightly shrugged, slowly getting embarrassed by what she was saying, but she kept going as there was no turning back now. "We have some sort of special connection that could be more? Or I don't know, what do you think?"

"Seriously? Was the kissing not clear enough for you?" You laughed, wiping some of Gwen's blonde locks out of her face before leaning back down to kiss her again. She eagerly returned your kiss, placing both her hands on your cheeks with her head tilting to the side to deepen it.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two of you parted lips with both of your faces flushed now. "I'll take that as a yes." Gwen beamed. "Good, ‘cause that was definitely not a no." You replied, wrapping an arm under Gwen's waist while the two of you still lay on the grass, facing each other.

Gwen snuggled closer to you in response. "So, what now?" She asked. "Are we... a thing now?" Gwen snorted, she tried to be light about it, but she wants to make sure that you were both on the same page.

"I mean, I don't mind. We can definitely try it out." You smiled down at her. "Yeah, I... I'd like that." Gwen said huskily, "As unexpected as this was, I think it'll turn out pretty good for the both of us."

You grinned from ear to ear at her words as you couldn't agree more, but this immediately faltered when Gwen said, "I think this could be the start of something amazing."

"Oh my god, you're so goddamn cheesy you know that?" You playfully squinted your eyes at her, shaking your head with a small smirk. Gwen was enjoying this light banter, however, kissing your jaw softly as if a feather touched it. "You're going to have to get used to it if we're going to do this whole dating thing."

You whispered, "I don't mind it really, I’m practically conditioned to tolerate it by now." your lips hovered above her lips teasingly, earning you a groan from Gwen as the blonde girl wrapped a hand around your head, pushing you down to smash your lips together. This slightly took you off guard, making you let out a muffled laugh against her lips. It was as if the both of you suddenly couldn't get enough.

"You're a really good kisser you know that?" Gwen breathed out after pulling away once more.

"Don't get too obsessed now." You jokingly warned Gwen, looking into her clear blue eyes. She simply laughed at your warning. "Too late," she said with a grin.

"I'm already addicted to you."

Fin.

Click here for my Miles content! (Hoping to add more Gwen ones though <(￣︶￣)>

#gwen stacy #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x fem!reader #gwen stacy x y/n #gwen stacy x you #across the spiderverse #astv #astv fanfic #fluff #confessions #kith kith #got me kicking my feet

207 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 10 months ago

Text

Please Don't Leave Me | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Summary: The mission goes very wrong.

Warnings: Injuries and angst

Word Count: 1K

A/N: just a quick writing challenge for myself based around the prompt please don't leave me. I put a bunch of characters into a generator and Jack came out and it was honestly the easiest little story to create in 20 minutes. Enjoy.

There’s a reason you should never mix business with pleasure and it’s because of moments like this that actually remind you why.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out with time for a good night at the hotel after. Just you and Jack doing what you do best. You had been working on and off together for five years now. Screwing each other after missions to let off steam for almost equally as long. Everyone told you not to do it. All the other girls in the office who had ever been seduced by him and left flapping on the shore when the tide went back out; warned you to stay away. But you were sure you could handle it. Told yourself it was just sex and that you wouldn’t fall in love. But he knew how to play the game. Knew how to win you over every time and lull you into a false sense of security to the point you thought, maybe he did care. Maybe he did love you back. But that look in his eye right now as he stood in the doorway, flash drive in hand ready to make a run for it whilst these brutes did everything they could to keep you down.

You hadn’t worried at first, but then you took a bullet to the shoulder and god damn if that didn’t hurt to the point you just wanted to hide in the corner and cry; but you couldn’t. You were a tough badass woman who had trained and worked too damn hard for this job to not keep fighting for the sake of the mission.

You really couldn’t blame him when he gave you that apologetic look and said, “Sorry Darlin’, it’s nothing personal.”

“Don’t leave me!” you had called out desperately. He was your back up after all. Without him there was no barrier between these men and yourself. Who knew what they would do to you. Kill you most likely, but when- and after what torture. “Jack! Please don’t leave me!” But he was gone.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Your arm smarted, but you continued to try and punch your way out.

It was no good. Although some of them had run after Whiskey, many of them continued to gang up on you. You were on the floor now, arms held up protectively to your head, body curled tightly in an attempt to protect your vital organs; but it was no use. They kicked and they kicked- one thud after the other against your body. You should have been focusing, but what was the use. So your mind wandered- back to him. Every tender soft word said between crisp white hotel bed sheets. Every tender kiss. Every “it’s only you kiddo.” And he still left you behind.

There was a resounding bang! Followed by another and another. The kicking stopped. Your body started to relax as you opened your eyes to see him there in the doorway, a smoking gun in each hand. “Now fellas!” He called out into the room and you looked around the room at the men in their shitty black suits, all lying on the floor nursing various shot wounds. None of them instantly fatal, but still deadly enough. All hitting vital organs that would bleed out quickly, but not enough that they wouldn’t be able to listen to his lesson first. “Is that any way to treat a lady?”

You glowered at him when he finally locked his eyes on yours. He quickly holstered his pistols before rushing over to you. “Now you didn’t think I was actually gonna leave ya, did you?” You groaned as his arms reached around your body and lifted you from the floor.

“The drive?” you asked, your voice raspy.

“I handed it off to Ginger.” He said as he carried you from the room.

“Wait? Ginger’s here?” you groaned.

“Hey, rest now. Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

That was the last thing you remembered before your vision went black and you went limp in his arms.

—---

“What happened?” You asked as you woke up in the medical bay two days later. To your surprise, Jack was sat in a chair beside your bed reading some rodeo magazine.

He quickly closed it, putting it down in his lap, before leaning across the bed, reaching for your hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I thought I would lead them away, but clearly not enough of them.” You remained quiet, both slowly recalling the events that left you feeling black and blue, but also analyzing the pain in his eyes. “I called for evac the moment I left the room. Ginger said she’d seen everything through the glasses and was already on the way. Champ told me to get the drive out first. I had to do it. I couldn’t let on…” his voice trailed off.

“You couldn’t let on what?”

“I know I’m not supposed to do shit like this. You know. I told Champ I wouldn’t- fuck!” he hung his head in shame. “I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think what? Didn’t think what Jack?!” you pressed him.

“That I’d actually care about you!” He snapped. “That I’d fall in love with you.” His words stunned you. “I compromised the mission today.” he said with shame.

“Yeah, but you got it out. You did the right thing in the end.”

“Yeah, but it should never had come to that.” He grunted. “I saw you in that dress and I just became distracted. It should never have come to that.” He repeated himself.

In the silence that fell, you finally realised what he had said. “You love me?” you questioned tentatively.

He looked at you confused. “After all that, that’s the thing that you take away.” He paused for a moment, if only to gauge your reaction. “Of course I do. Knew it the first moment I met you. All smart mouth and attitude and…” his voice trailed off as he got lost in you. You squeezed his hand encouragingly. “I promise I’ll never actually leave you, okay? I’ll always come back for you.”

And he always did. Until the Poppy Adams case. Until he would never come back to you again.

#writing challenge #short story #agent jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #pedro character imagines

43 notes · View notes

okeiglxg · 7 months ago

Text

Day 3 of recommending 5 fics about JLA meets batfam with a plus one! 🤍

-------------------------------

On the First Day of Christmas the DCU Sent to Me … A Hijacked Space Station by aestorian

- 3,385 words, 1 chapter, completed

-no ships

Summary- "The candle will burn."

If the Justice League didn't want people coming to the Watchtower than they should have upped their security. It wouldn't have saved them from the batfamily on a kidnapping mission, but that's neither here nor there

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52282147

--------------------------

Paranoia by BoredomBeckons

- 21,646 words, 14 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Batman trusts the newest Justice League recruit almost instantly.

This is so out of character, it makes the rest of the team suspicious.

Who is this Nightwing, and what is he up to?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40571238?view_full_work=true

---------------------------

Illogically? By Kiwiles01

- 5,825 words, 1 chapter, completed

- dick grayson/ wally west, clark kent/ bruce wayne

Summary- The boy looked up and stopped writing instantly.

"Dad!" Exclaimed the boy, who seemed to be scared and pale. "Oh God"

"Dad?" Lantern gasped, staring at the Flash with his mouth open. “Did he call him dad?”

“Impossible,” Flash denied. “We imagine it”

Or when the Justice League meets the Batfamily and they think that Nightwing and Batman are a married couple with kids.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50032252

------------------------

Gotham will survive by anonymous so no user

- 2,564 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- The Metropolis was under attack. Clark was grateful that most of the hero community got together to help him. He just didn't except to learn that Gotham was being attacked too with almost double the forces and Batman left the city alone to fend for itself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48949135

-----------------------------

What's in the cape? By Peppermint_Tree_Prince

- 5,038 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- Batman hides the secrets of the universe in his cape. Hals is sure of that. Now he just has to convince the rest of the League.

There really is something in Batman's cape this time, but he's determined to Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, his way out of answering questions.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47987695

----------------------

Plus one!

Of Birds, Rich Boys & Superpowered Teens by cherryousama

- 63,128 words, 19 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Dick Grayson, older brother to three insufferable younger brothers (who he loves very much) and Gotham City's most eligible bachelor (or was it second? He didn't really keep track). Of course he had plans for a fine Saturday night.

Getting called out by Gotham's own maniacal terrorist—The Joker; yes, the Joker—on national television, was not one of them.

If that wasn't bad enough, now the Joker had all of Gotham City's criminals—or more than half of the population—right under his thumb. And you guessed it; now all of them are out to get the Wayne brothers!

But the Wayne boys are more than just pretty faces and pockets overflowing with money; they are the Batman's protégés, the elusive elite band of vigilantes who fight crime and protect the city every night.

With all of Gotham's worst criminals after them though, protecting their secret identities will be a challenge. So Batman has decided to call in the Young Justice team to help protect his sons.

The Young Justice team came in expecting to be protecting some rich kids who had the misfortune to catch the eye of the Joker.

What they hadn't been expecting was the utter chaos that was the Wayne household.

-young justice protects the wayne boys

- no identity reveal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21013910?view_full_work=true

---------------------

Thats all! I still have more to post so maybe it can go on till day 7 or 8. Like the post for more and dont forget to reblog🤍

Have a good day/night

#damian wayne #tim drake #cassandra cain #dick grayson #duke thomas #jason todd #justice league #justice league and batfam #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #dc robin #fanfic

44 notes · View notes

soobadnoonecanstopher · 1 year ago

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 3.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: Unresolved sexual tension, apologies to anyone named Chet, contagious giggles, gratuitous use of the word cunt, an unspecified age difference, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author’s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Story Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[WARNING- This is Part 3! part 2 was just posted a day before this. DON’T SKIP PART 2]

‘Noona, can I stay?’

Of course you wanted to tell him yes. Of course you had grown attached to him in ways you could never tell him. But how much power did this man really think you had in this company? Between the two of you, he had so much more influence here; heaps more than you had.

“Baekhyun, that is not a decision for me to make. You are a great assistant, but you are a more important person than just my assistant.” You made your best attempt at it. The sooner he understood the magnitude of his potential the sooner he would let go of this fixation on staying in this department as your assistant and the better off he would be. If for the sake of his future in this company, he should probably move on. Although, you also realized that part of what made you so damn good at your job was the years of experience you had with it.

“And…if the decision was yours?” His eyebrows were lifted and his expression challenged, as if he asked some mysterious, unsaid veiled question instead of this very obvious ‘Can't I just stay as your assistant’ question he was actually asking. You wondered what had made him so determined to get a response from you.

“I think with a couple of years here with me, you would get too good and surpass me.” You pursed your lips in contemplation. You saw his incredible potential the minute he walked through that door on the first day.

“And then I would have to kill you.” You said it with a straight face and it took him only a minute before his eyebrows dropped and he let out a half exhaled breath mixed with a loud laugh.

He’d spun on his heels and taken a step back from you, before turning back to look at your face again, his wide grin quite evident on his face. “This is the first time I’ve heard you make a joke.”

“What makes you think I am joking?” You deadpanned, no longer even looking at the man and he laughed out loud again.

“Oh my god,” he said out loud to himself. “I think this might be a new step in our relationship.”

“I beg your forgiveness, you kick me in the chest. I ask you to hold on to me and you threaten me with death.” He was talking only for himself now. Amusing himself with his little jokes like he often did. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of into it. I guess that ‘What Rihanna Song Are You’ quiz was right. Chains and whips do excite me.”

“Are you done?” You interrupted, actually unable to take any more after your started leafing through the pages and pages of work you had accumulated on your desk.

The more you looked the less you wanted of all of it. You began handling everything with rougher hands and eventually resorted to angrily tossing things into a miscellaneous pile you had just created that made no logical sense. If these things annoyed you the most, they landed in that pile. After a while, after every other toss a swift hand would come into your field of vision and pull something out of the pile.

You didn’t know where it went, but the pile was shrinking and your mood was feeling lighter because of it.

The only pile left after Baekhyun’s mystical sorting just needed signatures. You could do that and walk at the same time if you had someone watching for obstacles in your path.

“I have a meeting with Choi’s First AE in ten minutes and I needed all these signed like yesterday. Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Now, Baekhyun. Sign and walk and don't let me fall into an open manhole cover.”

He did pretty good with it. “Step up,” He called out beside you and you stepped up when he told you, finding the perfect rhythm and finding the step he warned you about. “Four steps, then turn right,” he said again while also grabbing the folders and flipping to the signature pages that he had already pre-marked with brightly colored sticky tabs last week when he was desperately trying to get you to sign them. Apparently he had been getting emails about them. They were overdue. There might have been phone calls too. Not dangerously late, but you did feel guilty for the delay. Why didn’t you think of this before? You’d probably wasted hours of your life just walking. Those walking hours could have been used for signing. You were pretty sure you were a genius.

That was until your forward progress was abruptly and jarringly halted by a firm arm wrapped around your waist and you were pulled back violently. A loud sound like a beast’s roar echoed against your eardrums and you gasped out loud. Your stomach leapt up into your throat as a panic rose up inside of you from the shock of it.

You’d just stepped off a curb. He’d warned you about the step down, that wasn’t the unexpected part. The danger came too suddenly for either of you to prepare for right after that. You smelled the exhaust of a retreating motorcycle. You could see the crazy driver speeding off in your peripheral vision. You felt the trembling and the shaking inside of your chest as you tried desperately to breathe though the tightness of the arm squeezing around your waist, pulling you back to safety.

“Shit,” Baekhyun swore out loud sometime during the commotion and you’d cried out the same.

It took a few moments of steadying yourself. When your mind sharpened to what happened you found yourself having stumbled back two or three steps with Baekhyun’s arm still wrapped around your waist, the firmness of his forearm digging into the softness of the skin directly below your breasts and his hand you felt laid flat over your rib cage, fingers digging in hard. Tight and firm everywhere. You felt bound up entirely. A clattering of documents bounced onto the floor by your feet and your eyes blinked hard and fast as you tried your best to calm your breathing down. He was still holding onto you when you could feel the panic subsiding and your breathing returning to normal.

Baekhyun’s upset seemed to take longer to pass. You felt the rapid up and down breathing of his chest echoed through your back and his face was buried in the space just over your shoulder, against your neck and into your hair. You could feel the heat from his breath on your neck. It was warm and sticky.

You gave a light tap over his arm that still held you tightly around your waist. Trying to get him to loosen the hold and let you go. It took some convincing though. His arm was very firm and he was holding you very tightly. Close call with literal death aside, a new danger was quickly making itself evident. He felt incredibly warm and nice with his body pressed up against you like this and you recognized the need to separate yourself from him if you were going to keep any remaining bits of your sanity and self resolve intact.

“Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?” He asked from somewhere buried behind you and you urgently nodded. He needed to let you go. He smelled so good.

You tapped his arm again, faster and more insisting, nearly begging now.

“I’m okay,” you said as calmly and as convincingly as you could manage with the limited oxygen you had in your lungs. You could finally feel the tension in his body relaxing a little. But only a little. The longer he held onto you, the more you felt something else making the air around the both of you feel so heavy — something else making the heat spreading between your bodies somehow feel warmer.

Baekhyun was not letting you go, and this was changing for him too, it seemed.

It took no less than a miracle that you did not moan out loud when you felt the deep inhale he took into his lungs with his face still buried deep within your hair. That deep inhale was paired with the smallest sound that came from somewhere deep inside of his chest that, if you were thinking strictly with your rational brain, you could maybe contribute to the relief. He made that sound out of relief that you were not hurt. He pulled that warm breath into himself deep and slowly, savoring it for much longer than necessary out of…relief. A wave of warmth ricocheted through your chest and down into your belly and you closed your eyes through it, desperately reminding yourself that you and him were now, well out of harm’s way, standing on a sidewalk at your workplace where anyone with eyes could see this.

Your tapping was harder now. It woke him up.

As soon as his arm was loose enough, you made a quick and clean break of every and all bits of contact with his body. As abruptly as this happened, you extracted yourself and you ignored the way his eyelids fluttered slowly open and that fucking pink hue in his cheeks and lips that turned his face into one of the most attractive faces you’d ever laid your eyes on.

You squatted down, picking up everything that had fallen and soon enough he joined you, grabbing things from your hands to add to his piles without saying a thing about what maybe he also felt building between the two of you whenever you happened to get too close to each other.

It couldn't happen. It no longer mattered whether or not you believed it was happening. You knew for certain that whatever was or was not happening, it needed to stop here. You simply would never put yourself into any position for this man to need to touch you ever again. You could not trust yourself.

A moan. You almost moaned. You could practically feel the sound ready to come out of your chest if you’d only allowed your mouth to open, it would have. You were insane. You were a crazy person, a goddamned lunatic and a menace. He was your assistant for god's sake.

You steadied your breathing and your resolve and decided to allow yourself two entire minutes to sign the rest of these things on the spot. So what if you were late to your meeting. Punctuality be damned. Sure, the almost dying part was a little scary, but even you had your limits of what you could stand. You had almost moaned! What next? An orgasm right here on the sidewalk? Lock you up and throw away the key now.

You made it on time to your meeting. He was the First Assistant Editor to the Picture Editor Sophie Choi, with whom you had been working very closely with for months on this project. Sophie’s 1st was a man who simply went by Chet. No last name, just Chet. Apparently it was his thing.

He was nice. He was always polite with you even when he had some bad news to deliver, he always relayed whatever news, projects updates, or requests for your team he had for you with an empathetic and professional filter. Unlike some other utterly obnoxious 1st AEs that you’d worked with in the past, Chet was alright.

He was also tall and extremely handsome if you were into muscles, backwards ball caps, and men who looked like they probably moonlighted as underwear models in the back pages of GQ magazine. Not that you had ever seen him in his underwear, but you did follow his instagram and you always made sure to give him that little heart when he posted his pictures.

Chet was a hugger. When he saw you his smile was charming and inviting as he called out your name and he wrapped his big arms around you, pulling you in like a long lost friend. You weren't exactly friends with him. While you’d been invited for drinks with him and his team on many occasions your schedule had always been too swamped to take him up on the offers, but he was still just as friendly with you.

You didn't require Baekhyun to attend this meeting but he was weirdly insistent on tagging along after the quick introductions you made between the two men. They both shook hands and there were some formalities and awkward pleasantries exchanged between the two. Baekhyun whispered to you that he was sure that he should attend this meeting for learning purposes. You were sure nothing important other than networking was about to happen, but he insisted that everything was important in its own way. He was stubborn and after a few back and forths you finally just gave in to the man. If he wanted to waste his lunch hour, who were you to argue?

Chet made a kind of too loud joke about some rumors that you’d been saddled with some fresh meat intern and you were quick to assure him that Baekhyun had actually turned out to be the best assistant you’d ever had. After the harmless joke, you risked a careful glance at Baekhyun. If he’d taken any offense, he certainly didn't react. He spent much of the meeting sitting in the back of the room typing furiously on his cellphone, no doubt answering many emails on your behalf. Baekhyun was always busy on that phone, keeping your workload down as a side effect.

The meeting was about halfway through when your stomach growled noisily and embarrassingly, reminding you that yes, you were indeed human and you probably should eat something today.

“Why don't we take this downstairs—” Chet lifted an eyebrow in your direction, “—have some lunch… on me?”

You considered it. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. You had all of the materials already and you skipped dinner last night and now that you thought about it, you skipped breakfast this morning too. Your nerves about the presentation had kept your appetite muted. The last meal you had was something shoved into your mouth by Baekhyun sometime yesterday afternoon.

‘Eat this,’ he had said at the time and you blindly opened your mouth and received whatever he shoved in there.

“Some lunch sounds lovely, Chet. Thank you.”

“That does sound lovely, Chet. Thank you,” Baekhyun mirrored from the back of the room, obviously inviting himself along. You couldn’t be completely sure, and you definitely wouldn’t swear to it under oath, but there was something funny about his tone.

Chet’s wide smile had a microscopic hiccup as his eyes moved between you and Baekhyun and then back to you again.

“Great!” He said over-enthusiastically, almost manically and you also detected something just a little funny in his response as well.

You didn't know what, but something was up with these two men.

Lunch was delicious. Baekhyun took the spot directly beside you, took it upon himself to unwrap your utensils and he placed them just so beside your plate and Chet sat across from you and took it upon himself to unwrap your straw and place it inside your glass for you.

You weren't sure what kind of an imbecile you had appeared to be, but clearly they thought you needed help with something as simple as feeding yourself. You smiled politely to both men. Maybe they were both just overly polite people? Although you knew for a fact that Baekhyun wasn’t that polite when it was just the two of you alone.

Something was definitely up with these two men.

Oddities aside from them, you didn't realize just how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your pasta. If this was going to be your only meal of the day you were going to have some carbs dammit.

Baekhyun had grabbed a chocolate dessert with his lunch plate. You recalled him mentioning once that he wasn’t that into sweets but you didn’t want to pry. You did steal occasional glances at the chocolate layers and one such glance had your eyes bouncing up onto his face where he chewed lazily on his sandwich without any care in the world for how lovely those chocolate and vanilla cream layers looked and must taste.

His eyes slipped to the side and he looked at you as he chewed and swallowed casually. He put his sandwich down and his hand slipped over to the dessert plate. With a single fingertip he touched the edge of the plate and he pushed it quietly and carefully in your direction until it sat there beside your pasta as if it had belonged there all along.

Your eyebrows lifted and you widened your eyes in his direction, mouthing a silent and hopeful ‘me?’

He nodded his head once giving you the tiniest scrunch of his nose and he picked his sandwich back up and continued to eat until it was almost gone.

You had abandoned your pasta, you’d had your fill of it. You took the first bite of the chocolate cake and you were pretty sure you could weep. You were also pretty sure you had completely and thoroughly just fallen in love….with the cake. You could so easily be bought and sold with a good chocolate cake. Baekhyun was the winner. Whatever the competition was, if any at all, whatever these weird vibes between them were, as far as you were concerned, it was over with the first bite.

Then lunch and the meeting were actually over and you didn't catch any more strange interactions between Baekhyun and Chet. Perhaps you’d imagined it all. With your belly full and your workload even lighter you graciously accepted the goodbye hug from the tall well meaning man and you even promised that you’d make an attempt to meet him for drinks once this project wrapped. You did, afterall, have an end date in sight at last. And even if you only saw him at the wrap party where there would be drinks, you wouldn’t technically be lying to him right now. He accepted your promise with an extended pinky finger waved into the air as you walked away cheerfully.

Your mood was grand. It was probably the cake and the pasta.

“Ahh, he’s great.” You remarked out loud and from your left you heard a stifled scoff poorly disguised as a cough from Baekhyun. You turned to look at him with wide questioning eyes.

“Chet.” Baekhyun said his name out loud once with an audible emphasis on the T at the end. As if that T was its very own punctuation mark. As if it was its own hilarious punchline.

“What? He’s nice. He’s so good to work with and he’s never given me any trouble at all.” Why you felt the need to defend Chet to Baekhyun you couldn't quite explain.

Technically, Baekhyun hadn’t even said anything bad about him. He just kept saying his name as if that in itself was the problem.

“Chet.” He repeated the name again, slower this time and then he laughed outright into his hand as if it was the funniest joke he’d heard all day. You’d expected one or two chuckles from him. But strangely, and concerningly, it didn’t stop. And worse, it was weirdly contagious. You fought it all you could but you accidentally allowed a few giggles to escape when he was in the thick of the fits of laughter. It had gotten so bad in the elevator up to your office that you had to smack him on the arm to get him to stop laughing and breathe before he passed out. His eyes were watering from it. He was wheezing and he was gasping. You reached up and wiped a tear stain from his cheek and patted him right on the face kind of hard, almost a slap, anything to get it to stop. It didn’t.

You were feeling dizzy as well. You felt drunk on this madness you both found yourself trapped in. It was silly. It was childish. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so hard. Even something as simple as eye contact with Baekhyun from across the quiet office would set you both off again. And he’d reach for the box of tissues and cover his face completely all the while loudly cackling. You had been overworked, exhausted and stressed maybe and this was a side effect of all of it. Maybe you’d both finally just lost your minds.

He eventually wound back down, calming and then busying himself with actual work.

“Chet.” He said out loud almost an entire hour later, bursting into noisy laughter all over again. You had to actually bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You were sick of it. Your stomach muscles ached and you were so very, very tired of the giggles.

“No more,” you begged, holding your face in your hands. Your cheeks were sore, everything hurt. Finally you just gave up and left the room to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face. What was this? You wondered if you’d ever be able to meet with Chet again and just act normal. You definitely couldn't ever meet him with Baekhyun again, that was for damned sure.

Sometime in between redoing your entire face full of makeup that the laughter and the face washing wiped it out, and taking your seventh brisk lap around this hallway you decided it was time to put your foot down.

You were in charge here. This was your department, you had twenty seven subordinates that, on a daily basis, treated you with the utmost respect and followed your orders to the letter. You had made a decision that it was time for Baekhyun to do the same. You didn't care what he called you or who his father was.

You marched back into your office to face him with a plan in place ready to set into motion and you found him in a spot you absolutely didn't expect.

He was sitting behind your desk, in your chair doing a little sideways back and forth wiggle in your spinning office chair. He was humming a soft tune to himself as he carefully and slowly wrote something down with your pen on your pack of post-it notes, underlining and dotting and crossing letters. Your office phone had been moved. You guessed you received a phone call while you were out.

When he saw you walk through the door he looked up at you briefly before looking back down at what he was doing.

“Assistant Byun,” you said firmly. He hummed out in response and continued to write without looking up at you. You were fired up and ready for this and no amount of his distraction techniques were going to work on you this time. You knocked twice on your desk. “Assistant Byun?” You’d called out again and his eyebrows shot up in the middle of his face.

“Yes, yes, I am here. Your Assistant Byun is here, what do you need my esteemed and magnanimous Manager Noona?” He was still in a playful mood it seemed.

“Byun Baekhyun, from today onward you, nor I, are not allowed to say the c-word inside of this office. Do you understand me? The c-word is banned.” You put on your angry and serious voice and Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he looked straight into your face.

“I’m not allowed to say the…c-word?” he paused and his eyes looked down at the post-it note that he had just pulled off the pack and was holding gingerly between his thumb and his index finger.

“The c-word. You are not allowed to say the c-word anymore.” You harnessed the annoyance for the time wasted today. You thought about the hours of work you’d have to do at home to make up for today and you used that to make yourself seem as authoritative as possible. You meant business now. Play time was over. This was serious.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed and he dropped his chin in confusion.

After a long moment of thought he spoke.

“Cunt?” He whispered.

You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath. You had completely forgotten about that c-word.

“No, Baekhyun. Not cunt, Baekhyun.” You gritted your teeth.

“The other c-word from earlier, from the past three hours Byun Baekhyun, the other c-word. You can say cunt,” you hissed in annoyance with a hand wave, “You are forbidden from saying that other c-word.” Your frustration from the day was mounting. You rubbed your temples with your fingertips, willing the headache you felt building to subside.

“So, I can say cunt in this office?” His voice was louder now and you closed your eyes, threw your head back and inhaled a deep breath. “Cunt is okay? The other c-word is not allowed, but cunt you are okay with. That right, Boss?”

“Yes. You can say cunt if you have to say cunt. Do not, under any circumstances, say the other c-word in this office. Am I clear?” When you opened your eyes he was leaning his head far back in your desk chair in a lounging position. He’d pulled the lever below the seat so the seat back leaned way back and he was watching you with that little post it still held gingerly between his fingers and there was a look of smug satisfied amusement on his pretty face.

“Did anything happen while I was away? Why are you in my chair?”

“Well,” he began, sitting up straight and pushing himself up onto his legs as he made his way back around from behind your desk where you were pretty sure you had never given him permission to be. Not that it mattered, he already had access to everything you had access to, just for the sake of the assistant’s job.

“Well?” You urged him to continue and he looked down at the note again, reaching once more for the pen he scratched something off very thoroughly and you caught a quick movement as he wrote something in its place. He stood up now, straightening his shoulders, looking as put together and professional as ever and he straightened his back as he began reading word for word from the post-it note.

“Cunt called while you were out and asked if you would like to meet him tonight for drinks. I was sure to let him know that your schedule tonight is full and would be full all week, and I made sure that he knew that you do not have space to fit him in for drinks tonight, as you will be busy all night long, with the wrap. Cunt sounded unreasonably upset and just a little bit like a c-word. You are more than welcome, but not in any way obligated, to call him back. From Baekhyun.”

He looked up from the note with wide innocent eyes and his lips pulled into the smallest little pout and you reached forward and grabbed it from him quickly. Sure enough the entire thing was there, word for word. He’d crossed out Chet, replacing it with the word with Cunt every time.

You were pretty sure you were about two seconds away from a complete nervous breakdown.

You knew when you were beat. It was close enough to quitting time that you merely wadded up the note and tossed it into the nearest trash can and began packing up your laptop and a few things you knew you could work on at home. You knew you had a hard deadline coming up tonight by midnight that you absolutely could not miss but everything was on your laptop, you could simply get it all done and submitted from home.

Your quitting time meant it was also Baekhyun’s quitting time. He helped you pack up a few of your laptop accessories, lifting a few peripherals into the air in silent question. You nodded or shook your head for what you would need and they either went into the bag or they went back to the desk. This quiet communication between the two of you was one of your favorite things about him.

The ride down the elevator to the lobby was peaceful. Today felt like running a marathon. This job was usually stressful and eventful but today had been a whole other monster entirely. You could feel the stress and tension in your shoulders and you longed for a long soak in your bathtub.

Baekhyun walked out of the elevator beside you but in no way did you both have the same destination. You knew he would go out to his car and you would make your way down to the subway. You knew he lived on the opposite side of town from where you lived. The distance had to be maybe a 40 minute drive with this office being a center point. You hoped he got some good rest at home and you knew with your workload you’d have to settle for a 30 minute nap at most.

You’d cleared the elevator hallway and stepped into the open hallway when you saw him. It was Chet, and you caught the back of him seated in a chair having a rather casual and loud conversation with a buddy. You’d recognize the 2nd AE’s toupee atop his head from a mile away. This was definitely not something you needed right now.

Your steps paused and you backed up a quick two steps, hiding behind the wall that divided the elevators from the lobby. You could clearly hear the two men laughing and reminiscing about whatever it was two buddies talked about.

Baekhyun who had been just a step behind you caught your rapid evasive motions and his eyes also zeroed in on and instantly understood the danger in the lobby.

“Oh shit,” he said under his breath. “He doesn’t even work in this building. I bet he’s waiting for you.”

“What do I do? I don't want to go out for a drink. I have a midnight deadline. Is there a back door?” Your voice betrayed your panic and Chet’s noisy words broke through the occasional squeaking of the wheels on the cleaning lady’s bucket as she mopped the hallway floor and curiously glanced at the two of you hiding here behind this wall.

‘Man, she’s got this new cockblocking assistant. Real fucking annoying, one of those pretty boys. I mean like I’m pretty but I’m still manly, you know bro? Anyway, I’ve been working on this chick for like six months which is fucking bullshit, for me, you know that. She’s a fucking tease, a sexy tease, but still. Dude, she likes all of my posts. Yeah, tonight’s the night. I’ve waited enough.’

The air felt thin and you could feel that suffocating sinking feeling in your stomach that sometimes came with these horrible realizations about people you thought you knew. Behind you, you felt his flinch as every muscle in Baekhyun’s body seemed to tense up and he took a step forward.

You reached out a hand and wrapped it securely around his arm and you pulled him back hard.

“I still have to work with him,” you said firmly and you did your best to keep the trembling out of your voice.

Baekhyun was frozen and his ears were bright red with a look of anger like you hadn’t seen before from him set deep inside his eyes.

He was eerily quiet save for the sound of his steady breathing and his fists were white from how tightly he clenched them. What was this strong reaction? It wasn’t like he had that much allegiance to you. Maybe he just hated the sight of those womanizing, degrading types of men who treated women like conquests and objects.

Baekhyun looked around at his surroundings and his focus stopped on the old woman with the mop and squeaky wheeled bucket. He was reaching into his pocket and he pulled out a crisp bill, you couldn't quite make out the denomination but it had to be at least $100 and he walked up to the woman with a smile on his face. A few words were exchanged and she quietly nodded and accepted the offering from him, turning and walking away quietly with the mop in her hand, leaving behind her bucket in the center of the hallway, close enough to where Chet sat for you to instantly understand Baekhyun’s intention.

Baekhyun was casual about it. You watched on in awe as he returned halfway to where you were and then made a quick circle, working up some speed he pulled out his cellphone and acted as if he was glued to the thing, completely immersed as he moved fast. He kicked the bucket with enough force for a wall of dirty mop water to go flying. The water was nearly black and it traveled with impressive speed, hitting Chet and soaking almost up to his waist. He yelped out in surprise and Baekhyun yelped out in surprise as he really sold it and fell down onto the floor, grabbing at his shin as if he were in great pain. The cellphone he had in his hands flew and clattered onto the carpet and Chet stood up half surprised, half enraged but too soaking wet to do much other than hobble around.

“What the fuck!?” Chet howled toward Baekhyun who was already being helped up by several concerned onlookers all who looked back at Chet in admonishment for instantly rushing to blame Baekhyun, who was clearly injured here. Chet was just wet. A few of the more sympathetic bystanders tossed a few take-out napkins in his direction.

“Who left that there?” Baekhyun called out in concern and groaned in fake pain.

“Oh no, Chet! Your pants, Bro!” Baekhyun said loudly and you had to cover your mouth with both hands to hide the loud snort of laughter that erupted from your mouth. The commotion itself lasted until Chet grumpily wobbled out of the front door, probably headed back to his own office for a change of clothes. The old woman returned shortly after that with her mop and began soaking up the remains of the liquid and Baekhyun straightened his posture, miraculously recovered from his injury and he sauntered his way back to you with a smile on his lips.

“My dearest Manager Noona,” When he reached you, he did so with his palm lifted into the air and a sweet little addition to your title on his lips, “Chet seems to have been called away on an urgent matter and is regrettably unable to join you for drinks this evening.”

“Oh no. What a shame,” you replied with a bright smile for him. You can't remember ever being quite this smiley at work before Baekhyun. If someone were to see you, they’d think you’d gone crazy. Maybe you had.

At least today was Friday. At least after you met your midnight deadline you had a late start tomorrow, you would be able to sleep in. You’d be able to eat breakfast and you’d be able to have a meal at a table like a civilized human. Your Saturday was relatively light compared to what today had been.

You said your farewells to him and you made your way to the subway, settling into the seat as you casually considered the quickest and most efficient way to make your deadline tonight. Your hand passed over the pockets, feeling for the blue external hard drive you always kept there in the pocket of this bag that had vital attachments that had been cleared and vetted by every important department at work to submit to the production teams. You felt with both hands over that space in the bag and found it suspiciously flat and terrifyingly empty. The pocket was empty. The hard drive was not in there. You were already nearly home and you searched your recent memory for clues, where had you left it. Where would it possibly be?

You searched through your memory and came up blank. Where had you seen it last? A feeling dawned suddenly and you remembered something Baekhyun had told you while you had been mentally occupied with something far more important at the time.

‘The blue hard drive is…’ His voice echoed…but you could not recall the rest of his sentence. Is where? Where was it?

You pulled out your cell phone and sent a text.

‘Blue hard drive’ you said those three words and only those three words and your phone was ringing.

You lifted the phone to your ear and before you even said a word Baekhyun was speaking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I have it. I have the blue hard drive. Shit. This is make or break isn’t it? I forgot to give it to you. Where are you now? I’m turning around. I’m coming to you.”

“I just got home. I’ll text you the address.” You hung up the phone without saying anything else and you quickly sent him your home address. As soon as you’d done it you felt uneasy anxious butterflies swimming around inside of your belly when the realization of this hit you.

Baekhyun was coming to your house and you were about to have a full blown panic attack at the thought of that man alone in here with you.

Byun Baekhyun was coming to your house. He’d given a little thumbs up to the text message with your address and that meant that he was already on his way.

[To Be Continued]

Story Links: Can I Stay? - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#Baekhyun fic #Baekhyun fanfiction #Exo Baekhyun #Baekhyun #exo fic #exo fanfiction #exo story #baekhyun story #baekhyun smut #girl dinner

144 notes · View notes