#good night! I hope everyone had at least one or two of those quiet and peaceful moments today
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I want to do my routine textpost but the past few minutes I've been trying and inside my mind has been all like "... posting posting posting. to write a post. on my personal blog. because I post post post the text post. posting posting...hmm. A TExt post! posting"
well you get the idea. then I thought about why I don't just do a banal retelling of my day, but the idea felt uncomfortable. then I thought about what about it was making me uncomfortable, was it just the public part? I suppose there IS a definite intimacy to exposing the most banal moments of your life. hmm. I think there's a thought here you could turn into an interesting paragraph. but not me! I tried to visualize myself writing out my day in a very private journal, and that also felt uncomfortable for some reason. maybe exposing the banalities of your life to yourself can be an uncomfortable intimacy in itself. vibe issues, all of it.
anyway! let's see which banalities I feel comfortable with reflecting upon:
I used the unsalted, unsweeted peanut mousse or purree or whatever in a sandwich with blueberry marmalade and it was delicious! the marmalade had enough sweetness so maybe the no sugar peanut mass worked better actually in combination! moment of joy for breakfast hehe
had a moment of anxiety because I had to put one of two stamps (had to combine postage) on the bottom left of my postcard, which we all know it does not belong there! it belongs in the top right corner. but alas, no space. so there was a very intense minute where I was standing in front of the mailbox questioning existence, postal service, space and time and all of it, and most of all my decision to put the stamp in the bottom left corner. we will find out if it arrives, or not.
bought a gaming desk in animal crossing. have been considering if animal crossing has a kind of ersatzkonsum effect on me in that I get the moment of purchase euphoria from nook stop and spend less money on real things instead, lol. I dont think it works that way, but you know
also made a teensy sketch for my website-rebuild. I really, really want to use my website/webspace again. I've been intimidated because honestly these days I wouldnt even know how to build a nice looking page, and the thought of having/creating a nice portfolio or whatever webiste overwhelms me. but then I've been seeing really cool websites that look like pages from like. 2002. I KNOW it's a retro/vintage/aesthetic thing but then I figured, hey, I can do that. and maybe you'll only notifce at second glance that it's not aesthetic in my case, but like, the only way I know how to build a website. and really what I want is a little project and a place to dump all my stuff online. so. maybe until 2027 or so I'll get that done hehe.
ok now this got really long and rambly! but did exactly what I wanted it to do. I get a realyl nice blank, kind of content feeling after these kinds of rambly posts. I can definitely recommend it.
#good night! I hope everyone had at least one or two of those quiet and peaceful moments today#you know the ones that feel like a soft yellow#or whatever your color for these may be#a tag for my personal blogging revival#sorry for the long post! it got away from me hehe
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Innocence - L. Heeseung
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Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, plus size reader, alcohol consumption, cursing, dirty truth or dare, unprotected sex, oral female receiving, flirting.
Note: hello, this work was requested by @idollemon @fumasthicc sorry for the long wait I hope you enjoy it! 💋
WC: 6,360k sorry for it being so long but I had to build up to it yk😅
Masterlist
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It was 9:23, and you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup. You had decided to go with a casual look, considering you were just going to hang out with a mutual friend to have drinks and watch movies at his house.
Your best friend had been invited to a house party by her friend named heeseung, and she asked if you wanted to tag along, so you agreed you didn’t have shit else to do anyways.
You knew she was only going cause Jake was going to be there, but you figured a night out wouldn’t be so bad, so you decided to accompany her, even though she’d most likely ditch you for him.
But, it was a good excuse for you to see her very hot best friend, heeseung. You hadn’t seen him around much cause you weren’t friends with him. You only knew him cause of your best friend, but those few encounters were enough for you to catch some type of feelings.
You’d never say it out loud or let anyone know, but you had a tiny little crush on him. He was tall and cute with a charming smile.
And not to mention, every time you saw him, he looked absolutely fuckable.
That’s another thing you’d never say out loud.
If your friend ever knew you thought about him like that, she’d be absolutely stunned because….
You were innocent.
At least to her and your friends, you were.
You were what most people would call the innocent type. You didn’t attend many parties. You always dressed modestly, and any time a dirty joke would get made, you’d just blush and stay quiet, not entertaining those types of things.
So if she or any of your friends knew that you wanted to fuck their best friend, it’d come as a complete shock.
You took one last look in the mirror until you were satisfied. You got a text from your friend that was notifying you that, apparently, it was going to be a sleepover since everyone would be drinking.
You responded with a thumbs-up and packed an overnight bag for the now sleepover.
Good thing heeseung lived in a mansion cause you could get your own room and not have to sleep on the couch or in the living room sprawled out all over your drunk friends.
Oh, the memories.
You arrived at his place a few minutes later than you had planned. Everybody had already settled in, and they were drinking from red plastic cups.
“There she is!” Your friend ran over to you and gave you a side hug.
“Here I am!” You smiled and hugged her back.
Jake, Jay, and yeonjun greeted you with smiles. You were close to them, so you didn’t need any introduction.
“Hey,” you greeted them back while someone watched you from across the island on the opposite side of the kitchen.
Said person took a few more steps until he was face to face with you and your best friend with his hand in his pocket and a drink in the other. “So tell me, who's your friend?” You looked over when you heard the voice and met eyes with heeseung briefly.
“Oh my gosh! You’re totally right. You two have never even met before,” your friend gasps at the realization, “Okay, heeseung, This is y/n, and y/n, this is heeseung,” she pointed back and forth between the both of you.
“Nice to finally meet you, y/n.” He reached his hand out from his pocket, and you shook it gently.
“You too,” you managed to say without stuttering at the pretty smile he gave you.
He brought your hand closer to his face and pressed a soft kiss there, gazing up at you while he did so.
You did your best not to get flustered, and thankfully, Jake saved you from the awkward moment that would have come.
“You didn’t kiss my hand when we first met,” Jake pouted playfully. You could tell he already had one too many drinks.
“Me neither,” Jay sassily stuck his hand out to Heeseung, waiting for a kiss.
Heeseung let go of your hand and rolled his eyes at the two, slapping both of their hands away from him.
You giggled slightly at the interaction. While you were getting to know heeseung, your friend had already left you to get herself another drink.
“Ignore those two,” heeseung spoke up to you again. “You want a drink?” He offers.
“No thanks, I’m good.” You politely declined.
“Oh, come on,” The offer did sound kinda good, but you shook your head softly. “Pleaseeeee, I make the best drinks ever” he whined cutely and when he said it like that, how could you say no?
“Okay, but just one,” you agreed, and he led you to his personal drink station on the kitchen counter.
“You won’t be saying that after I’m done with you,” he winked playfully, and you’re not sure if that comment was referring to the drinks or something sexual, but you just went along with it.
“We’ll see,” you smiled.
He was right cause just fifteen minutes later. He had already made you three more. “See, I told you,” heeseung said while smiling at you.
“I can’t lie. This is actually the best drink I’ve had in a while” He smiles at that and takes a seat next to you.
“How come we’re only just now meeting?” He says, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at his other friends drinking and talking.
“That’s a good question. I really don’t know either.”
“I think I know,” he chuckled, and you looked at him quizzically. “You’re always so shy and quiet.”
He was kinda right. Usually, when you’d hang out, you were always the quiet one in your friend group. In your defense, they were just a bit more on the wild side. “Am I?”
“Yeah, I wanted to say hi to you a few times a while back but decided against it cause I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything like that,” he explained, taking a small sip from his own cup.
“Really? I wouldn’t have minded talking to you though” You’re blaming the alcohol for that statement, damn you, heeseung, and your ability to make the best aqua velva on earth.
“Yeah?” He smirked and turned to look at your flushed face. And you liked to say it was the alcoholic beverage in your system making you heat up, but it wasn’t
Before anything could escalate any further, Jake was practically screaming in both of your guy's ears.
“Who’s ready to spin the bottle?” He shook yours and Heeseung’s shoulders a little too hard.
You looked over, and you could see heeseung rolling his eyes and sighing. “We’re not teenagers anymore.” He pushed Jake's hand off his shoulder and did the same for you.
“Come on, hee d-don’t be a party pooper at your own party,” Jake slurred his words.
Out of all times, Jake could talk to him. He picked the absolute worst he was just starting to make some type of progress with you, and this drunk idiot had to go and fuck it all up. “Fine, but stop screaming in my fucking ear, will you?”
“To the living room!” Jake shouted, and everyone else cheered and clambered to the living room to play spin the bottle with an empty Hennessy bottle.
Once you all gathered in a circle, Jake, of course, was the first one to spin the bottle. You were kinda nervous about playing, not knowing exactly what questions or dares would be asked, but it seemed fun, so you relaxed a little and watched as the first spin landed on Jay. Jake smiled wickedly at Jay, and you could tell what direction this game was headed in right away.
“Why me?” Jay whined.
“Truth or dare?” Jay answers with truth, too dizzy to get up and do a dare.
“If you could have sex with any of us, who would it be?” Jake says.
Jay groaned but answered nevertheless. “Myself,” he buried his face in his hands, attempting to wipe off the drunkness.
“Lame,” Jake mumbled.
“How? Do you not see all of this?” Jay pointed to himself, and Jake fake gagged, or maybe it was real, given the drinks he had.
It was now Jay's turn to spin the bottle, and it landed on heeseung, making you breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I got a good one,” Jay says and makes a silly face. “Truth or dare.”
“Dare,” heeseung muttered, obviously unamused by the game, and the last thing he was going do was say truth.
“I was hoping you’d say that” Jay looked at you whilst smiling evilly, and you panicked. Why the hell was he looking at you, and it wasn’t even your turn yet? “Heeseung, I dare you to moan in y/n’s ear for ten seconds.”
Heeseung’s eyes went wide as saucers as they met yours. That were just as wide. No wonder Jay was looking at you like that. What a little shit you thought. “What kind of dare is that?” Heeseung asks what the hell did Jay gain from embarrassing him in front of you.
“It’s one you’re about to do now, chop chop,” Jay clapped his hands.
You blushed at just the thought, and you felt tingles in the pit of your stomach. You hated to think like this, but you actually weren’t opposed to the idea. You didn’t want to make Heeseung uncomfortable, so you interjected.
“Well, we just met, so I thi-” Jake immediately interrupted.
“Y/n shut up, heeseung moan,” Jake cut you off while you and heeseung both glared at him.
Heeseung looked at you for approval, and you nodded softly as he scooted closer to you. You could feel his breath fanning across your ear, and you got goosebumps all over your body.
The whole group cringed but laughed at the same time as they watched you becoming more and more flustered by the second.
Heeseung was nervous, to say the least. What if you thought he sounded disgusting? What if you were grossed out? What if you thought he was mimicking a dying whale, and you wouldn’t want to talk to him after tonight?
Ultimately he said fuck it, it was a dare, not the end of the world, even if it felt like it.
The first moan was more like a shaky breath followed by a tiny whimper, and your head was already spinning just imagining how much hotter he’d sound behind closed doors.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip cause if you didn’t, you would have moaned yourself. You looked around and saw the whole friend group laughing at the scene, but you didn’t care. You were too focused on the way he sounded as he was now full-on moaning and almost grunting in your ear.
You discreetly rubbed your legs together as he finally pulled away from you after what was probably a little longer than ten seconds.
He leaned back and saw your flustered face, and that let him know that you, in fact, did not think he sounded like a dying whale, and he was thanking the stars.
Heeseung cleared his throat, quickly moving on with the game and spinning the bottle. He smiled at Jay just as evilly. Now, it was time for his revenge. “Truth or dare?”
Jay gulped, knowing he was fucked either way. “Truth and dare,” he said, making you giggle as he downed the rest of his shot.
Heeseung just shook his head at his very stupid friend. “Look at yeonjun and make your orgasm face.”
You turned to heeseung for the first time since he completed his dare. “That’s evil,” you giggled.
“Not evil, just payback.” He smiled and winked at you.
You would have lived happily ever after if it wasn’t for the sight in front of you. Jay had his mouth parted, and his eyebrows creased together while looking at yeonjun, who looked at him horrified like the rest of you.
Luckily, it only lasted a few seconds cause if it had gone on any longer, you would have all been blind.
It was yeonjuns turn to spin the bottle, and it finally happened it landed on you. “Truth or dare, my precious little y/n?” He said sweetly, but you knew his intentions were not as sweet.
Heeseung discreetly rolled his eyes after hearing the nickname yeonjun gave you.
“Dare?” You said more of a question as you squinted your eye.
“Perfect, I dare you to look at the person to your left” fuck, heeseung was to your left. “And eat a banana as sexily as possible.” He clapped his hands. He noticed heeseung had been shamelessly checking you out all night, so he decided he’d do him a little favor cause he wasn’t an asshole like Jay.
Your jaw dropped to the floor. How the hell were you gonna do that?
Jake did the honors and came running back to the living room with a banana. “Y/n, you don’t have to-, “Heeseung tried to speak.
“Heeseung, you’re not her dad. She can speak for herself,” Jay butted in.
“It’s fine. It's just a dare, right?” You said to heeseung as you peeled the banana.
“Right,” he breathed out. He couldn’t lie. He was probably more excited about this than Jake was about playing Spin the Bottle.
You turned your body to face him fully. You swirled your tongue around the tip teasingly, and you saw heeseung visibly gulp. You laughed shyly and began licking the banana, pretending it was his shaft instead. Once you defiled the poor banana, you took half of it in your mouth with your lips wrapped tightly around it. You blinked your eyelashes while doing so, loving the expression on heeseung’s face as he watched you.
“Fuck” he cursed under his breath. His eyes had already darkened, and he had his lip caught between his teeth.
Finally, you ended your little show as you pulled off the banana with a quiet pop sound.
The room had gone completely silent, and you looked around to see all the boys gawking at you with their mouths hanging open. “Hope you enjoyed the show” You winked at Yeonjun.
Heeseung couldn’t help but to think maybe you weren’t as innocent as you were letting on, and boy, would he do anything to find that out after seeing you suck on that banana.
“Okay, now I’m hard,” Jay jokingly said, and heeseung glared at him while Jay lifted his hands up in defense.
You spun the bottle next, and it landed on your best friend. “Truth or dare?” You already knew what you had planned for her if it was dare.
“Dare,” she chimed.
Perfect. You thought.
“I dare you and Jake to play seven minutes in heaven.” She blushed instantly and looked at Jake, who was already blushing and smiling.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jake stumbled as he sat up and dragged her to the nearest closet.
“Why couldn’t I get that dare?” Jay groaned.
“Cause you don’t deserve it.” You stuck your tongue out at him.
“You better hope this bottle does not land on you,” Jay murmured as it was his turn to spin the bottle once again.
Unfortunately, it did, and you sighed, picking truth this time. “So, y/n, when’s the last time you’ve touched yourself.” He smirked.
Why was he doing this to you?
You grew flustered. Did you really have to answer truthfully? There’s no way he’d know the real truth. “A month, maybe longer,” you lied.
“Aww, I should have known our little angel is too innocent for that,” you giggled nervously, thankful that none of them seemed to have detected your lie.
Heeseung again rolled his eyes. Why was everyone all over you tonight?
Your friend and Jake had just come back from the closest, and they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other ever since the dare you gave them.
After a few more spins and unmentionable dares, you all decided to call it quits for the night and watch a movie instead, seeing how everyone but you and heeseung were drunk out of their minds. You were both still a little tipsy, though.
You all decided to change into comfortable clothes before starting the movie.
Jake was sitting with your friend, Jay was on the rocking chair while you and heeseung sat at the back on the couch, and Yeonjun decided to lie on the floor for some odd reason.
About an hour into the movie, you had covered yourself with a sheet that heeseung had lying around. You felt something land on your thighs, and you looked down to see that heeseung had rested his head on your lap.
Within an hour of the movie, heeseung started to get a bit sleepy and rested his head on what he thought was the couch until he felt your thick thighs tensing under his head slightly at the contact.
All the lights had been turned off. Therefore, he couldn’t see where he was laying his head.
He was just about to move, but he stayed there for a few seconds longer to see what your next move would be when he felt your body relax under his head. He took that as a sign that you didn’t mind him being there.
About five minutes later, you felt his head shifting a little as he peeled the sheet down, and you could feel his teeth grazing against your thigh before he nibbled on the plump flesh gently.
Your body twitched a little, and you nearly moaned at the slightest contact.
Again, he took this as a sign and continued to sink his teeth into the soft flesh, and this time, you did accidentally moan out loud.
You quickly covered your mouth and panicked as you looked around, praying that no one heard you, and once you saw all of them focused on the movie, you breathed a sigh of relief.
Heeseung’s ears perked up at the sound of your sweet little moan.
As you instinctively ran a hand through his hair he turned around in your lap so he could face you, looking up at you and completely forgetting about the movie that was playing.
He lifted up the thin sheet and put it over his head, burying his face in your clothed cunt, inhaling the scent of your sweet arousal.
You bit your lip to conceal every noise that threatened to come out. You could feel him nosing at your clit, stimulating you through the fabric of your silk sleep shorts. You patted yourself on the back for deciding not to wear any underwear tonight.
He gripped your hip, squeezing it softly as he hummed lowly from your scent, invading his senses and the feeling of your plump waistline in his palm.
You pushed the back of his head closer to your core and spread your legs open wider, giving him a silent hint. He immediately flattened his tongue and licked over your silk shorts, and he could already feel your legs trembling beside his head.
He continued licking and sucking through the fabric, teasing your clit until the front of your shorts were damp with his saliva.
You quickly grew needy from that alone, and you needed to feel more of him. He seemed to read your mind as he slipped your shorts to the side and resumed his activities, swirling his tongue over your nub.
He wanted to tell you how good you tasted and how sweet your juices were on his tongue, but he couldn’t pull away for even a second.
You could feel his warm breath blowing against your bare pussy, sending shockwaves throughout your core as he sucked on your clit, pulling the sensitive flesh between his soft pink lips.
You spread your legs open instinctively, giving him more room to work with.
He moves his head closer to your body to get a better angle so he can use his fingers and his mouth to please you.
You had to cup your mouth when he stuck one of his thick fingers in your tight, wet hole. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head from the feeling of his digit pumping in you slowly.
He placed gentle kisses on your pubic bone, occasionally flicking his tongue over your clit as he added a second finger.
He curled his fingers upwards, brushing against the spot that made your stomach tense with pleasure as your toes started to curl. He focused on your clit, giving it a few teasing licks before latching his mouth on the bud and sucking on it, then swirling his tongue. He transitioned between each movement while digging his fingers deeper and deeper inside you.
It had been possibly five minutes before you could feel yourself getting close. Your legs were shaking, and he could feel your walls squeezing around his fingers.
He dug his nails into your side and sped up the pace of his digits. Seconds later, your hole was clenching tightly around his fingers as you came without any warning.
You ran your fingers through his hair as he slowed down and caressed your walls gently until you finished.
He applied a few more gentle kisses, and even though you had just came, you still wanted more as you bucked your hips into his face.
He smirked to himself.
So much for you being innocent, he thought.
With the unbearable throbbing between his legs, the only thing he had on his mind was fucking you into oblivion all night. He’s just been waiting for an opportunity to get you alone so he could feel your pussy. He just knew you’d feel so good, so creamy and wet, and that thought just made him even harder.
He pushed you back lightly by your hip and sat up. You were already about to protest, but he put a finger on your lips, shushing you.
He made an excuse to get you both alone, rushing out the fact that you were tired and he was going to show you your room. Everyone just murmured back in response. Apparently, they were still drunk.
Heeseung practically dragged you upstairs by your wrist and led you to one of his guest rooms on the far end of the hall, furthest away from the living room.
Without saying anything, he locks the door behind him and turns back to you, gripping your waist tightly while he moves in for a kiss somewhat between rough and gentle.
He groans against your mouth and presses your body as close to his as possible, moaning quietly when his cock brushes against you.
You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in close. The action makes him stumble slightly from the force, and with that, he breaks the kiss and pushes you back on the bed gently, taking in your disheveled state, your hair now messy and your shorts riding up your thick thighs, leaving little to his imagination of what you looked like under them.
You whimpered from the way he looked while standing above you. You began feeling impatient with him not doing anything, resulting in you seeking any type of friction as you rubbed your thighs together.
He could only smirk at how needy and desperate you were, and he couldn’t help but wonder how all your friends thought you were so innocent, yet here you were, spreading your legs for him and silently asking for him to fuck you.
“You look so good like this.” He leaned down on the bed and trailed his fingertips along your legs softly. “All needy for me.” His fingers inched dangerously high as he kneaded the flesh of your thighs.
“Please,” you whimper, and you almost feel embarrassed by how easily you begged for him on just the first night of officially meeting him.
He didn’t respond, only cupping his hand over your mound, lightly stroking your throbbing cunt through your shorts.
You gripped his wrist and immediately guided his hand back and forth on your clit.
He chuckled softly, watching your face twist in pleasure. “So naughty,” he cooed while maintaining eye contact with you.
His words were drowned out by the pleasure just his hand was bringing to you, and you lifted your hips off the bed, practically fucking yourself against his palm.
It wasn’t long before he felt himself caving in at just the sight of you. His pants felt extremely tight after seeing you use his hand to get yourself off. “Fuck” he muttered to himself, adding more pressure to press against your clit rougher.
“Fuck heeseung,” you moaned loudly as his palm ran along your clit just right, and the way you moaned his name was nothing but pure music to his ears.
“That feels good, yeah, baby?” You bit your lip as your eyes rolled back into your head at his slightly teasing tone. “Gonna fuck my hand until you cum?” You were too close to respond. Instead, you did exactly that and rutted yourself on his palm as you came and cried his name out hoarsely. “You know, y/n, you’re really not as innocent as I thought,” he spoke while he kept his hand in place so you could ride out your high.
You whined in embarrassment, but you still didn’t stop rolling your hips on his palm.
“Here I am thinking you’re the sweetest little thing on earth, just so shy and quiet, but here you are getting off just from my hand like a needy little slut” He finally pulled his hand away, and you squeezed your legs together only for him to forcefully spread them back open. “Don’t bother. You’ll be spreading them again anyways.” He quickly stripped himself of his shirt and pants.
You watched him through your spread legs, clenching down around nothing as you saw his tent beneath his grey boxers. Your brows furrowed at the sight, and you blushed when you saw him smirking at you teasingly.
He slowly lifted his hand to the front of his underwear, ghosting his hand over the crotch part. His expression mirrored yours, and he bit his lip at the feeling.
Your hands gripped at the bedsheets, toes curling as he continued to touch himself before your eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him so badly.
He slowly pulled the waistband down, eyes never leaving yours as he gave you the tiniest peak of the base of his dick.
Your mouth was watering by now, and his teasing was driving you insane. He smiled at your expression, letting the fabric of his waistband snap against his hips as he let out a low whine from the slight sting.
“Please,” you let out with a shaky breath, not sure what you were even begging for. All you knew was you needed him to touch you.
“On one condition,” he says in a low voice as he hovers over you on the bed while you nod frantically. “Beg,” he whispered, and you clenched around, nothing again, feeling a trail of arousal dripping from your hole.
“Please, heeseung,” you said, too turned on to even care how desperate you sounded.
“More.” He bit his lip and spanked your inner thigh, causing you to let out a whine.
“Fuck me. Please need to feel your cock inside me so bad�� You were squirming on the bed as you grew more desperate with every second that went by.
“More.” He spanked your thigh again, watching the flesh jiggle with each slap.
You were so close to tears, but you managed to do your best to get him to fuck you. “I need you so bad,” you breathed shakily. “Need you to fill my pussy up with your huge cock, and cum deep inside me, please, please, please.”
He groaned at the sound of your desperate, pleading voice. You were the furthest thing from innocent, and he was going to make you say it out loud. “Clothes off,” he said impatiently, finally pulling down his underwear.
You scrambled to take off your clothes, leaving yourself completely naked in front of him on the bed.
“So pretty,” he said as he positioned himself between your legs, finally letting you get a feel his hard throbbing cock rubbing against your wet core, causing you to moan loudly. “If I had known you were this much of a slut, I would have fucked you so much sooner” You spread your legs open further as he rolled his hips into you collecting your juices with his cock.
Your head already felt dizzy, and just the slow drag of his dick on your pussy was about to make you cum for the third time tonight.
He laid on top of you before grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist securely. “I know you would have let me too,” he teased you as he pushed his tip at your entrance but never fully inserted himself.
“You have no shame, you know?” He whispered in your ear. “Letting me fuck you, and we only just met hours ago” He moved his hand from your leg and stroked your cheek. “How do you think your friends would feel if they knew their precious y/n was begging to get fucked?”
You shied away from his touch, feeling slightly embarrassed by his words yet turned on at the same time.
“Hmm, baby? How would they feel knowing you’re so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t even finish the movie first” His voice was far sweeter than the words he spoke into your ear.
“Heeseung,” you choked out, eyes rolling in your head from all his teasing, and you couldn’t take anymore.
“What was it Jay called you?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.
“A-angel,” you muttered while trying to move your hips with his.
“Ah, that’s right,” he chuckles, almost like he’s mocking you. “Well, baby, if you’re an angel, what does that make me?” He didn’t give you time to answer before sinking his cock into you slowly.
You gripped his biceps tighter, feeling his muscles flexing as he held onto your thigh tightly. “Oh, heeseung,” you cried out, digging your nails into his flesh while he nestled his cock head inside you.
Your mouth was parting slightly while you panted heavily, trying to adjust to him stretching you out so far. “Goddamn baby, you’re so tight,” he grunts loudly as he feels your walls already throbbing around his length, making it nearly impossible for him to think straight.
“You’re so fucking big,” you slurred your words, already feeling dumb with the way his dick was sliding in and out of you so deliciously.
He smirked at your compliment and buried himself to the absolute hilt. “Such a dirty little mouth” He sat up on his knees and gripped your thighs so he could dig his cock deeper inside you.
You clawed at his chest. He was so deep that you could barely take it as your walls clamped down around him. “So damn tight, baby” He held back a moan and picked up the pace, thighs slapping against yours with every strong, perfectly angled thrust.
You held his waist as he plowed into you, and you couldn’t help but scream out his name. “Shh baby, unless you want them to know just how much of a whore you are for me,” he grunted out, never letting up on his frantic pace.
You didn’t even bother to hold in any moans. It was impossible with the way his thick cock felt, massaging your walls.
He moved his hands from your legs to cup your breasts, kneading them softly. “God, you take it so well,” he mutters, watching how your wet cunt swallows his big cock with ease. “You’re soaking, baby. Am I making you this wet?” He had that same teasing smirk on his face.
“Yes, all for you,” you cried out.
“So much for being innocent,” he chuckled, now hitting your spot with his thick, leaky tip.
You moaned, your body shaking with nothing but pleasure as he rubbed your nipples in small circles, overstimulating you. “I am,” you stutter out, even though you felt nothing of the sort.
“Oh baby, the look on your face and the way your slutty pussy is clenching on me tells me otherwise” He brought his hand to your mouth and rested his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open.” You pleased him greatly when you opened up immediately after and allowed two of his fingers to rest on the back of your tongue. “Suck on them,” he instructed, and you began to swirl your tongue obediently. You sucked on his fingers just like you did with the banana earlier. “Such a good little whore listening to whatever I say” He watched your drool leaking down your face as you nearly choked when he pressed down on the back of your tongue. “Letting me do what I want with you.
He busied his other hand on your clit while you sucked on his fingers with your eyes locked on his.
You moaned around his digits when he pressed down on your sensitive clit with his fingers and rubbed your nub in tight, fast circles. “Keep sucking” You continued to moan around his fingers as you squeezed his dick harshly with your aching cunt. “Gonna cum?” You nod your head as best as you can while your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. “That’s it, pretty, cream, my cock” His eyes flicked down at your pulsating pussy, and he lost it as he saw your creamy essence coating his dick. “Fuck, I’m close,” he moaned, and just the image in front of him drove him insane, your mouth stuffed with his fingers and your pretty pussy filled with his cock. “I’m so close.” his voice sounded just the same as earlier when he moaned into your ear, but in this setting, it was even hotter somehow.
The feeling of your warm mouth around his fingers and the repeated clenching of your tight cunt was the last straw. He finally let go releasing his cum into you with loud moans of your name. “Shit, this feels so good,” he whimpers as his hips start to lose rhythm, and he stills inside you, filling you to the brim until your little used cunt is dripping all his seed.
He removed his fingers from your mouth and lowered his weight on top of you, messily kissing you while his heavy breath mixed with yours into the sloppy kiss.
You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to you. He raised his eyebrows at your sudden boldness and chuckled against your lips as you nibbled on his bottom lip. He parted for a breath of air and quickly glued his lips back onto yours.
When he finally pulled away from you, he was panting as he pecked your forehead and pulled out of you carefully.
He rolled over on his back and sighed as the cold sheets met his hot skin.
After a few moments of silence, he got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, grabbing a warm towel to clean you off with. “Was I okay? I didn’t go too rough, did I?” He asks with concern hoping it was enjoyable for you too.
You only smiled, wondering how his mood could change within the blink of an eye. “No, it was perfect.” You watched a look of relief overtake his features.
“I’m glad,” he muttered, and he somehow looked shy as he gently cleaned between your legs. He kissed your thigh gently once he was finished and then pecked your lips one last time. You smiled to yourself as he returned back to the bathroom.
He came back out a few seconds later and started getting dressed; once he was done, he sat back down next to you on the bed. “I should go before they notice that I’ve been gone,” he whispers to you while stroking your cheek with his thumb as you settle into bed.
“Okay,” you say a bit reluctantly. You really wished you could cuddle him all night, but he was right. Your friends would become suspicious, and the last thing you needed was to explain to them what happened, especially since you and heeseung had just met.
“I’ll come back later when everybody has gone to sleep.” You couldn’t believe your ears. You thought it was just a simple exchange and nothing more, but he actually wanted to come back? While you were caught up in your thoughts, he took your silence as you not wanting him to come back. “O-or not, I just thought maybe after you know, you might want me to sta- I don’t know,” he breathed out as he picked at his nails, refusing to make eye contact with you.
You softly gripped his chin, tilting his head and making him look up at you. “I’d love it if you came back later.” You smiled and closed your eyes slowly to kiss him one last time.
“Really?” He asked once he leaned back from the kiss and fluttered his gleeful eyes open.
You nodded softly, and he smiled. “Okay,” he hopped out of bed and grabbed a shirt from his drawer, and handed it to you. “I’ll sneak you some water in a few” He tucked the covers up over you as you yawned, feeling sleep settling its way into your system.
He slowly backed away from the bed and blew you one last kiss before shutting the door and muttering a small goodnight to you.
“Goodnight, heeseung.” You laid your head flat on the bed, a small smile etched on your features.
Tomorrow could only tell what’s in store for you and heeseung, but right now, you were just happy your friend invited you to a hang out with her hot best friend.
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Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#heeseung#lee heeseung#enha heeseung#engene#enhypen hard hours#enhypen heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#enhypen fanfic
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MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka
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(click here for part two!)
synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k
click here for my masterlist
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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?”
You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again.
Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?
You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya.
But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since.
Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived.
When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed.
You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet.
Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons.
It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds.
In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile.
“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.
When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind it took shape.
The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side.
“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks.
The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family.
“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command.��
You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.
Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you.
“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer.
“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away.
A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test.
A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair.
“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way.
When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced.
“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword.
“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders.
“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.
“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.
“Shall we?”
But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.
“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.
“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station.
You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart.
That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.
“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.
“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew.
“It’s quiet.”
“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.
“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of.
“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work.
“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.
“Do you need help?”
“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you?
“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.
“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.
“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way.
“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.
“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head.
“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”
“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.
“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you.
“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?
“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”
“Why’s that?”
“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.
“Not a fan?”
“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight.
“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.
“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.
“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye.
“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.
“You and Kanroji worked together?”
“Surprising, right?”
“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”
“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement.
“Strong, fierce, never quit.”
“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”
“Thanked me?”
“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.
“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed.
You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.
“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.
“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”
“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.
“Can’t.”
“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.
“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often.
“And?”
“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.
“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”
“Giyu,”
“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”
“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”
“Why?”
“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head.
“You don’t. No one does.”
“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first.
“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.
“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game.
“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”
“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”
“My inn isn’t too far.”
“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.
“No. I’m going back to my inn.”
“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’d do it for you.”
“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back.
“Come back. Please.”
“You’re annoyingly persistent.”
“I just want you safe. That’s all.”
“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that.
Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction.
You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal.
“Y/n? Are you alright?”
“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”
“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?”
“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.
“Ah! That’s right I did.”
You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.
“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.
Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.
Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen.
You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed.
You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another.
Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.
You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku.
But you loved Giyu.
You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.
And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.
#fem reader#demon slayer giyuu#demon slayer x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyu x reader#giyu x y/n#giyu x you#giyuu x reader#kny giyuu#kny x reader
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Once again I need to get off my ass and go work but instead all I'm thinking about is Them:
Buck's mostly got his breathing under control by the time he hears the side door slide open, and he adjusts his weight automatically, tips his chin as he straightens his spine, tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket like that will fix the wrinkles he'd made bending at the waist for the last ten minutes.
"Buck?"
He's turned away, thank god, so Tommy can't see the wince.
"I'm fine," he says, annoyed with himself and the world at large when it comes out wobbly. "Go back ins-." When he hears the door click shut again he takes a moment to hope Tommy's just left, again, but -
No such luck.
"That door locks from the inside," Buck murmurs, and tears his gaze away from the gentle expression on Tommy's face. There'd been a cardboard box wedged up in there by whatever line cook had been out here smoking when Buck burst through the doors, and the guy had left it with a warning about how insanely large this building was and how few doors along its perimeter were unlocked, and now the broken down box is somewhere beneath Tommy's left foot.
Tommy tries the door anyway.
It doesn't budge. "We could just call Eddie," Tommy says, and Buck feels the ire rise in his throat.
"Eddie's not here," he spits, and it feels like a knife under the ribs. Everyone fucking leaves, eventually. "Call your date, if you want. I'm walking."
Buck heaves himself up from his lean against the brick, takes two large strides to make it past Tommy and keeps going.
He should have known better than taking Bobby at his word that this stupid gala would be worth his time. So far he's dodged conversations about the curse of the 118, spent an unbearable five minutes smiling blandly at Gerrard before he could excuse himself, and tossed two numbers written on raffle tickets into the trash in his mad dash through the kitchens because apparently Tommy had been chosen as the rep for 217 and he looks fucking good in his suit, and he'd been pretty sure they'd be spending this Christmas together, until last month.
He's twenty yards down the alley when he hears footsteps catching up to him. Light, brisk - he's jogging to catch up and Buck doesn't want to deal with -
"Not my date," Tommy says, and Buck curses his own body for automatically slowing to allow him to catch up.
Buck snorts. "Okay." The guy was older - than Buck, at least. Grey around his temples, fat lips and clever eyes that caught Tommy's mid-sentence and sent them both into quiet hysterics.
"Buck, would you just -."
He's close enough to reach for Buck's arm, so Buck wrenches it away before he can make contact. "Don't call me that."
December twenty-third is one of those weird days where the world doesn't quite work the same. Traffic is heavier or lighter in weird places, people with nothing to do wander the streets or hole up in their homes making too much food and watching weird holiday movies, and even in LA it gets chilly enough at night to need a jacket. This one isn't doing shit to keep Buck warm, but the anger catching in his throat sure is.
"It's your name," Tommy says, exasperated.
"Not to you." Buck stops dead in his tracks, watches Tommy take another three steps before he realizes he's alone. When he turns, Buck doesn't allow himself to turn away from his gaze. Annoyance isn't a new look - Buck has tested the waters enough in six months to know intimately exactly how far he could push it before Tommy stopped indulging him.
He looks upset. Frustrated. Tired. Hot as fuck. Buck sort of wishes he'd do something about those first two.
Something other than walk away.
Tommy sighs. Runs a hand through his hair, and the sides aren't as high and tight anymore. There's a piece curling over the tip of his ear and Buck wants to tug at it, slide his fingers in there and tuck it back. "That was Sal," he says, and Buck flicks through the sadly small Rolodex of names Tommy has mentioned in the past. Another boundary Buck hadn't realized was a brick fucking wall in the way of getting to know his boyfriend.
Ex.
Sal. He'd been at the 118 with Gerrard, in the early days. Before Chim and Hen, before Bobby. He'd been the one to prompt Tommy into filing a complaint against Gerrard even though he'd been scared out of his mind to do it.
"I don't care."
He does care, is the problem. He cares so much. He's got a pile of fruit cakes and half a dozen pies sitting on his kitchen island right now that prove it. He can't seem to stop caring.
Tommy looks sceptical.
Buck brushes past him again, keeping his strides long. Tommy's the same height, but both literally and metaphorically he's always struggled to keep up when Buck had somewhere to be.
At least the panic attack has passed. Maybe he could take up running, as a cure all, instead of the weak ass recovery period he usually takes that involves him drinking a bottle of water and staring at the same spot on the wall until he sees stars.
So, fine. Tommy hadn't brought a date to the work function it was entirely possible Buck would be at six weeks after breaking up with him and disappearing into the damn wind. He'd bubbled Buck seven times that Buck knew of, and he hadn't brought a date.
Fine.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked -."
Buck had watched Tommy wheeze with laughter and curl a hand around the dudes - Sal's - wrist and he'd felt like maybe he was gonna throw up. Like six months and the something he'd been working his way up to defining hadn't meant a damn thing. Like Tommy could just move on like he seemed to think Buck could.
"Doing great, Tommy. My best friend is moving to Texas and the man I thought I could -." Buck clears his throat. Shuffles sideways just a bit because Tommy is keeping pace now and his cologne is familiar and devastating. He doesn't have anything inside. Once he rounds this corner he could just order an Uber and go home.
There's nothing keeping him here.
"Eddie's moving?"
The no contact thing had extended to everyone at the 118, apparently. At least Buck wasn't alone in that.
Buck digs out his phone, slows his pace just enough to pull up the app he needs. He can feel Tommy's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.
"Yeah, well. I'm getting used to people leaving at this point," he says, filling it with as much ire as he can. His voice doesn't wobble this time.
"Buck."
It's soft, this time, same inflection as when he'd cage Buck against a counter and lick into his mouth. "Don't worry about me, Tommy. You made it a point not to."
"That's not fair."
Buck couldn't care less. He's spent six weeks on a depression baking spiral and now he wants to go home and destroy every bit of baked goods he's made that are still left.
It only takes a few taps. They're surging prices, but that's not exactly a shocker.
He'd really thought the next time he saw Tommy he'd just be sad. Maybe he'd feel a little wistful about all the moments they'd shared that had meant something to Buck even if they hadn't meant the same to Tommy.
He wants to swing a fist, if he's being honest. He wouldn't. Not ever. But the desire is there and he hates it.
"Buck, could we just -."
"Stop calling me that!"
"I pay a mortgage, Evan!"
Buck can't remember Tommy ever raising his voice. It's - weird.
"I'm forty years old and I own a house and you asked me to move in to your loft after you told me you admired me." The emphasis isn't lost on him.
His ride is three minutes away.
"I got it the first time, Tommy. Haven't sucked enough cocks or done enough tests to know what I really want, so. Go enjoy your evening with Sal and -."
"That is not what I said." Cool, calm. Infuriating.
"Well that's what I got from it, so clearly we were never on the same page. I wanted a future with you and you've been eyeing the expiration date the whole time so -."
He's definitely not expecting Tommy's lips. But there they are, on his, and Buck's stumbling back, fully expecting the sharp crack of the brick at the back of his head as Tommy surges forward with him, only Tommy's hand curls around his skull at the last second and takes the brunt of the landing. His mouth opens on a groan and Buck licks up into it. Their noses clash and rather than shifting for better positioning they just press closer. Tommy's free hand finds the soft give of Buck's waist and his thigh finds purchase between Buck's legs and -
"You're willfully misunderstanding me," Tommy says, lips on Buck's jaw, heart pounding under Buck's hand, his breath ghosting along Buck's cheek.
"Never really gave me the opportunity for clarity," Buck bites back, and Tommy huffs, rolls his hips, tucks his forehead into the juncture of Buck's shoulder.
His pulse is pounding in his ears and there's a cloud of Tommy Tommy Tommy obscuring his senses.
"Do you still want that?"
Buck's phone dings in his hand.
His ride is here.
"Not if you're just gonna walk away again," Buck bites out, and shoves. Hard.
It barely moves Tommy, but it's enough to slip out of his grasp.
He doesn't glance behind to see if Tommy follows as he pulls at his suit jacket again and rounds the corner to try to catch - he eyes his phone - Sheri before she cancels the ride on him.
Doesn't stop him from hearing the footfalls behind him while he searches out the blue Honda Civic.
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love language by sza
“help me understand how you speak your love language ”
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pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader
part 1/2 next part
word count: 2,823
summary: a girlfriend of a successful f1 driver decides to learn Dutch to better understand her boyfriends world—his culture, his emotions, and the language he speaks—hoping to connect more deeply and navigate the complexities of their high-speed, high-pressure relationship.
note: first time writing a fan fiction so be nice please! i don’t know how to work tumblr to the fullest so if you want to requests anything, message it to me! this will be in two parts! please leave comments so i know im doing something right!!
❛ ━━・♡❪ ❁ ❫♡・━━ ❜
Out of all the unexpected turns her life had taken, learning another language was never on Y/N's radar. Yet, here she was, grappling with the complexities of Dutch, staring at her laptop screen during a Zoom call with her tutor, Anne. They had been chatting frequently, especially while Max was off competing in a grueling triple-header race weekend.
Before he left, Y/N had noticed the shadow of frustration in Max's eyes, a rare shift from his usually upbeat demeanor. It wasn’t lost on her—or anyone, really. The weight of the season’s challenges had begun to press down on him, making his once confident posture seem a little more hunched, his usual optimism now clouded by self-doubt. Everyone could see it. With the way the season had started, Max had envisioned triumph. But now, in October, his hopes felt distant. He hadn’t clinched a victory since June, and every reminder of that fact only seemed to add to his frustration. Y/N wished she could lift that burden, even if just for a moment.
In an attempt to brighten his spirits, she decided to do something special for him—a gesture that would help him escape the pressure he was under. The very day he departed, Y/N found herself scouring the internet, searching for someone who could teach her some basic Dutch. Max, ever the romantic, had always whispered sweet phrases in his native tongue—whether it was giving her a compliment or simply wishing her a good morning. And though she often required translations, Y/N thought, Why not learn the language myself? It couldn’t be that difficult, right?
And so, here she was, earnestly trying to master the phrase “I love you, handsome” in Dutch, yet somehow fumbling over the words.
“Y/N, your pronunciation is getting better, but you need to keep practicing,” Anne encouraged from the other side of the screen, her fingers dancing over her keyboard. The rhythmic sound of her typing seemed to fill the space between them, as if punctuating her words with gentle encouragement. “Have you taken my advice and started watching shows in Dutch? Immersing yourself in the language will really help you improve, especially with those tricky pronunciations.”
Y/N leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, and stared at the screen, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold back the exhaustion creeping in. She had been working hard at this—between the classes, the practice, the late nights watching Dutch shows, and the constant racing schedule with Max, it was all starting to feel like a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to the TV like it’s my best friend,” she said with a small, self-deprecating chuckle, her voice sounding a bit weary. “The characters probably think I’m crazy by now. But, you know, I think I’m making progress? Or at least I hope I am.”
Anne’s eyebrows raised in an encouraging way. “Well, that’s the spirit! The more you immerse yourself, the more natural it will feel. Dutch can be tricky, especially with its sounds, but you’re not giving up, and that’s what matters.”
Y/N exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. It had been one of those days—between working on the language and managing the quiet space Max left behind when he was away, the weight of it all was starting to wear on her. “I don’t know... I keep stumbling over the same words, Anne. Like, I feel like I’m so close to getting it, but then I hear myself speak Dutch, and it just sounds... off. I’m trying, but it’s hard to know if I’m really improving.”
Anne smiled gently from the screen, as though she understood exactly where Y/N was coming from. “That’s completely normal. Language learning isn’t a straight path. There are ups and downs, but the key is to be patient with yourself. Remember, it’s not about perfection—it’s about progress. You’re already doing so much more than most people would.”
“I guess so.” Y/N’s voice softened, her eyes drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. “I just wish I could see it, you know? Max always speaks so fluently, and when he says something sweet in Dutch, it sounds so effortless. I want to understand it all, to be able to speak with him like that without stumbling or needing translations.”
Anne nodded, her face sympathetic. “I get that. You want to connect with him in the language that’s so familiar to him, and that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, language is just one part of communication. Max will appreciate your effort no matter where you are in your learning. It’s about the intention, the heart behind it. And besides, if you’re working hard at it, he’ll see that.”
Y/N let out a small sigh, leaning forward in her chair and running a hand through her hair. “I just want him to know how much I’m trying. I know it’s hard for him when the season gets tough, and I want to be able to understand him better, not just the words, but how he’s feeling... especially when he gets frustrated. I want to be able to share those moments with him in his language.” She looked back up at Anne, a mixture of fatigue and determination in her eyes. "But it's like I'm still learning a whole new world, Anne. It's a lot to take in."
Anne’s expression softened even more. “Learning a language is like learning a new way to see the world. And you’re doing it for the right reasons. Max will notice that. Even if you don’t think you’re where you want to be yet, he’s going to appreciate your effort, your commitment to him and to his language. And you’re already showing him that you care in ways most people wouldn’t.”
Y/N gave a faint smile, feeling the weight of Anne’s words settle into her. She took another deep breath, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “I hope so. I’m doing this for him, and... for me, too. It’s just hard to see the progress sometimes when you’re so deep in it.”
“Well, keep at it, Y/N,” Anne encouraged again, her voice gentle but firm. “The progress is there, even when you can’t see it. And remember, when Max comes back, you’ll have a whole new way of connecting. That’s something special. Now, how about we wrap up for today, and next time, we focus on a few of those tricky sounds you’ve been stumbling over?”
Y/N nodded, the exhaustion beginning to fade as she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her. "Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Anne. Really."
Anne smiled warmly, her tone softening. “Good night, Y/N. You’re doing great. Keep going, and keep believing in yourself.”
With that, the call ended, leaving Y/N in the quiet of her room. As the screen went dark, she sat still for a moment, letting Anne’s words settle into her. She still had a long way to go with Dutch, but now, she felt a little less weighed down by it all. She stood up from the desk, stretched, and with a deep breath, made her way to the kitchen. There was more to learn, yes, but she could do it. For Max. And for herself
This had become her routine for the past few weeks—immersing herself in a new language while navigating the emotional ups and downs of Max's racing career. Each night flowed into the next, filled with lessons and the hope that her efforts would spark joy in him when he returned. In a way, she couldn’t help but feel that this small adventure might not only help her connect with him in a deeper way but also serve as a reminder that even in tough times, he had someone in his corner—someone ready to support him and learn alongside him.
Time passed, and soon enough, the hectic three-race weekend was behind them.
Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Max would be home. The unpredictable nature of his F1 schedule made it hard to keep track of his exact arrival time. As the hours stretched on, she decided to make the most of the quiet afternoon. She started by tidying up the house, picking up scattered race memorabilia and smoothing out the couch cushions, which always seemed to get tossed around after a long weekend of travel. The kitchen was next—dishes stacked in the sink, a few crumbs left from breakfast, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. She cleaned with a kind of absent-minded rhythm, her thoughts drifting between the tasks at hand and the excitement of his return.
Not wanting to spend the whole day indoors, Y/N grabbed her coat, slipped into her shoes, and decided to run a few errands to break the monotony. She mentally made a list of things she needed—a trip to the grocery store for fresh produce, perhaps a quick stop at the florist to pick up some flowers for the dining table. The gentle hum of the city as she walked outside felt like a welcome distraction. As she moved through the familiar streets, her mind kept drifting to Max—imagining his arrival later that evening and wondering how he would feel after the intense race weekend. With a small smile, she pushed the thought aside. There were errands to run, and time had a way of slipping by faster when you were busy.
After a while, Y/N decided it was time to head back home, the errands and quiet city stroll leaving her feeling a bit more tired than usual. The exhaustion crept up slowly, settling into her bones in the best way—a peaceful kind of tiredness that made the thought of being home all the more appealing. Once she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and shrugged off her jacket, instantly feeling the comfort of her own space wrap around her.
She sank onto the couch, letting the weight of the day melt away, but it wasn’t long before she found herself wanting to do something—something simple and familiar to bring a sense of warmth and routine to the day. The kitchen seemed like the perfect place. She stepped into the kitchen, the warmth of the space a comforting contrast to the quiet of the house. Her mind immediately wandered to dessert—something sweet to fill the silence. Pulling out her phone, she swiped through a few recipe sites, curiosity leading her fingers. After a moment, she typed "Dutch desserts" into the search bar. Her eyes quickly landed on appeltaart, the iconic Dutch apple pie. The thought of the rich, spiced apples wrapped in buttery crust made her stomach rumble. It was exactly what the moment called for.
With a smile, she set the phone down and rolled up her sleeves. The comforting hum of her favorite playlist began to fill the room, chasing away the silence and replacing it with familiar tunes. As the music flowed through the speakers, she started pulling ingredients from the pantry—flour, sugar, butter, and cinnamon. She paused for a moment, letting the soft beat of the song take over as she laid everything out on the counter. The scent of cinnamon already began to stir a feeling of warmth and anticipation.
With a deep breath, she moved into the rhythm of the recipe, the steady motion of measuring, mixing, and prepping grounding her. She could already picture the golden crust and warm, sweet filling that would soon fill the kitchen, and her heart swelled with a sense of simple joy.
As she hummed softly to the tune playing in the background, completely engrossed in the rhythm of her mixing and the warmth of the kitchen, she remained oblivious to Max stepping through the front door, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. Max paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before he crept quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He peeked around the corner, his gaze falling on you as you worked your magic, your movements fluid and focused. A smile tugged at his lips as the sweet scent of apple pie hit him, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, comforting aroma that filled the air.
Max moved silently behind her, his steps light as he closed the distance between them. With a smile, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment, savoring the warmth of her presence, before pressing a tender kiss to her soft skin. As he inhaled the sweet scent of the kitchen, his lips brushed her shoulder, and he murmured in a low, appreciative voice, "Smells amazing."
The unexpected touch causes her to flinch, a small gasp escaping her as she instinctively tenses, but her body quickly relaxes when she turns to find Max standing there. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she meets his gaze. "I didn't hear you come in," she murmurs, her voice gentle and warm as she leans slightly into his embrace, feeling the comforting weight of his presence. She glances toward the counter, her hands still lightly dusted with flour, and then looks back at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and pride. "I made apple—" Her words falter for a brief moment, and she pauses, taking a breath before finishing with a playful smile, "Ik heb appeltaart gemaakt." (i made apple pie) She lets the Dutch phrase roll off her tongue with a touch of pride, her eyes lighting up as she anticipates his reaction to the homemade treat and at the sudden Dutch.
Max chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Oh, dus je spreekt nu Nederlands?" (Oh, so you speak Dutch now?) His eyes narrow playfully as he takes her in, studying her with a hint of disbelief, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. It takes a moment for her to process his words, the surprise registering on her face before a grin tugs at her lips. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she meets his gaze. “Leren voor jou,” she responds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, her voice light and teasing as she repeats the phrase—"Learning for you."
Max hums contentedly into her skin, his voice soft but filled with affection. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" His words are a gentle murmur, as though he's savoring the moment. She chuckles, the sound warm and light, as she wipes her hands on a nearby towel. Without missing a beat, she spins around, her eyes sparkling, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I've missed you," she whispers into his chest, her voice filled with sincerity, as if the distance between them had only made her feelings stronger.
He gently pulls away, his hands lingering at her waist as he looks down at her, his eyes soft with affection. There’s a quiet warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that makes his heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, the words wrapped in a quiet vulnerability. He smiles, a soft, almost teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, "Mijntje," (my little one), his tone filled with both love and playfulness. With a tender sigh, he leans down, his face drawing closer to hers. As he lowers himself, he brushes his lips gently against hers, the kiss soft and lingering, a promise of everything he feels for her in that quiet, intimate moment.
She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her breath catching in the space between them. Her heart races, each beat carrying the weight of everything she feels for him. Her hands rest gently on his chest as she searches his gaze, finding warmth, safety, and a quiet promise there. With a soft sigh, she leans in just a little closer, her lips barely brushing his as she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity, "Ik hou van jou."
The words, though soft, are heavy with all the emotions she can't quite put into words—years of trust, laughter, passion, and quiet moments, all wrapped in those simple yet profound syllables. His breath hitches, and a smile plays on his lips as he leans in, closing the small space between them with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a beginning. There’s a warmth radiating between them, an unspoken yearning that lingers in the air, electrifying yet restrained. The kiss deepens, lingering just a moment longer, igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest—a taste of what could be. As they pull away, their eyes lock, and in that shared gaze lies a world of possibilities, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that awaits them.
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tag list : @heluvsjappie
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#mv1 x reader#mv1 x y/n#jzprncess
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Silent Night
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Summary - You're back from college for the holidays, and you've decided on exactly what you want for Christmas - Joel Miller's cock.
A/N: this was such a last minute fic im ngl rn. wasn't even planning on posting a Christmas fic, let alone my FIRST dbf joel miller smut?? anyway, i hope everyone enjoys. happy Christmas<3
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: smut, some good ole daddy kink, age gap (20+ years), Joel is pretty pervy in this, alcohol, divorce mentions. Not proofread because I'm tired
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
When you left for college all that time ago, Joel didn't have any strong feelings towards you. You were his best friend's kid, so naturally he saw you often, and got close with you. You were a sweet kid, kind, smart (more than him, he reckoned), and very.. determined when you wanted to be.
Now you're back for Christmas, and as he sees you exiting your dad's car, hurrying over to him, yelling “Joel! Joel! Oh, I missed you so much!” he realises how fucked up his mind might be.
Any normal guy who was reuniting with a girl he'd known since she was a teenager, and a girl he had at least 20 years on, would not be looking at how her tits bounced in her crop top, or how her leggings were tight enough to let him see just how perfect your ass was.
But Joel wasn't normal, he wasn't a good man, so he was looking for all of those things. If he'd actually been looking at your face, maybe he'd have seen you smirking. Maybe he'd have realised you wore those clothes for exactly this reason.
-
Joel, or dad's best buddy, Mr Miller, as you'd known him until you were 16 and couldn't be bothered to pay respect to your elders, had been a part of your life for a while.
Ever since your mom took off, Joel was coming around far more often and, in his own gruff and quiet way, was taking care of you more than your own father was at the time.
Nowadays, you didn't really have any resentment towards your father because of this - he'd just gotten divorced, he was going through a rough time.
But teenage you definitely did, and having Joel step in like that definitely left you with mixed feelings.
If things weren't the way they were back then, you'd probably have developed this all-encompassing crush on him even earlier.
When you were leaving for college though, the crush suddenly dived into your life, crashing down and muddling up everything you thought you knew about yourself.
Now, as you returned back home at last, you knew you had to have him, or you feared you might just lose it.
He was everything a girl.. like you, could want right now. Old, brooding, mysterious, and so fucking hot.
So as you hopped over to him where he stood in his front lawn, you made sure to hug him tight and make sure he could really feel that you weren't wearing a bra. You knew he was looking already, so why not let him feel it?
He hesitated for a moment - probably struggling with his boner which you swore you could already feel - before bringing his arms around you and clapping you on the back.
“I missed you so much, Mr Miller.” You hum sweetly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His own eyes almost flutter shut at the name you chose to use for him, and he manages to choke out a soft missed ya too, darlin’.
That darlin’ would be enough to make you come tonight.
Your dad finally turns around after unloading your luggage and turning the car off, greeting Joel before the two of you head to your house.
-
The next day, it's Christmas Eve. Dinner rolls around, and you check over your makeup one more time. You don't want it to be too much - it would look weird, considering it was only Joel coming over (your dad was a solitary creature) - but you still had to look good for him.
The doorbell rings and you almost trip down the stairs. “I'll get it, dad!” You yell, and he thanks you, completely unaware of your motives.
You open the door, biting back a smirk when Joel immediately looks you up and down, only just managing to tear his eyes away from your chest.
“Hi, Mr Miller. It's so good to see you.” You smile sweetly.
“Hi, sweetheart… told ya y’dont have ta call me that. Joel's fine.” He says softly, eyes still a little hazy.
You step back to let him inside and immediately take one of the beers he'd brought over once he sets the case down.
“Y’old enough to drink that, honey?” He teases, mind finally out of the gutter for now.
“I'm 21 in like.. a month. It's fineeee.” You smirk, tipping your head back and taking a big swig, showing off the long column of your neck and the swell of your breasts.
His mind is back in the gutter.
Your eyes are off him for now, so he allows him to drink in the sight of you properly. A silly Christmas hat atop your curled, gorgeous hair; red sweater tight around your breasts, little candy-canes dotted around it; your skirt, far too short and he's almost certain you're teasing him now, tights underneath making him want to rip them clean off of you. Your makeup looks perfect, red lips which he knows would look perfect around his cock, mascara which he can picture smudged and ruined from tears and sweat while you fuck-
“Joel, y’made it! Cmon, sit with me.” Your dad grins, and Joel's eyes widen. What the fuck is wrong with him? He cannot be thinking that way about you.
He shakes his head, muttering something to himself before going to sit with your dad.
-
Joel finally thinks he'll have some reprieve from your incessant teasing, letting out a tired sigh as he sits on the couch, your dad on the armchair.
“Tired already, old man?” Your dad teases.
“You're older than me, asshole.” Joel grunts, earning him a chuckle.
Just then, you appear in the doorway. Of course, of-fucking-course, you'd decide to watch TV with them tonight. It's soccer, for Christ's sake, you'd always get bored out of your mind and run upstairs to go on your phone whenever the game was on.
Not today though, much to Joel's dismay.
“What're you watching?” You ask, sitting beside Joel. He tries to mask his discomfort.
“Just soccer hon, I know you don't like-” your dad starts, but you quickly cut him off.
“No, no! It's fine. I'll try watching it tonight.” You smile softly, and settle in to watch.
You clearly get bored after about 5 minutes, sighing softly.
“You really find this interesting?” You murmur to Joel, now having made yourself comfortable on his shoulder. He tried to make himself as stiff as possible when you first lay on him, but you were persistent as always, and he just gave in.
“Ain't nobody forcin’ you to watch it.” He argues, and you keep quiet after that, eventually getting up to go get the food ready.
-
Dinner is yet another trial for Joel. You've gotten just as frustrated and impatient as he is, it seems.
Leaning in front of him when serving the food, giving him a clear view of your tits. Not to mention you never serve food, set the table, but all of a sudden you're acting like little miss helpful today.
‘Accidentally’ dropping a cup and bending over in his eyeshot to pick it up.
Sitting beside him at the table instead of with your dad.
When your hand moves to his thigh, he bolts upright, earning him a look from your dad.
“Bathroom,” is all he can get out before he's rushing upstairs.
“Fucking kid. Thinks she can fuckin’.. pull all this shit with me.. thinks she can act like this in front of her dad.. fuck me.” He mutters to himself, despite undoing his belt and pulling his cock out, barely stifling his groan when he spits on his palm and starts tugging at his length so fast it's almost painful.
His mind conjures up all sorts of unholy images, and he's on the brink of release when- “Mr Miller,” you coo, knocking on the door. “is everything okay? You've been gone for like 10 minutes. Was it something in the food?”
He's so angry, so pent-up, he wants to pull you in here and just fuck that goddamn attitude out of you.
He's deathly silent, flushing, turning on the sink as he pulls his pants up, blue-balled like he'd never been before, and exiting the bathroom.
“Everything is fine.” He grits out, fists clenched as he walks past you. You eye his bulge and smirk before practically skipping down the stairs.
“He said everything's fine, daddy.” You smile to your dad, and he almost collapses. He swears he sees god for a second.
That word coming out of your mouth should absolutely not turn him on like it just did - but it did.
The rest of dinner, he's almost silent, just gulping down beer and chewing on his now cold turkey. You don't try anything with him, actually a little afraid he might just get up and leave.
Instead, you wait until the movie.
Your dad puts Die Hard on, and after a lengthy argument about whether or not it even counts as a Christmas movie, - you insist it's not and will carry that with you to the grave - you settle beside Joel.
Joel thinks he's made it through the worst of the evening, but then you shiver. You shiver again, and then you pout, and he feels obliged to ask.
“Are you cold?”
“Yeah.. can I have some of the blanket?” You whisper. Your dad is practically falling asleep in the armchair.
He goes to hand you the blanket, and you, devious as ever, put it over both of your laps, cuddling up to Joel even more.
He's on full alert right now, stiff as a log, waiting for your next game.
The movie goes on, and then your hand creeps under the sheet. Moving from the side, to your own lap, to his arm, then to his leg-
“What're you-” he grunts, but you just shush him.
“I'm trying to watch the movie, Joel.” You huff, as if your hand isn't on his cock right now.
His eyes are darting between you, the screen, his lap under the blanket, and your dad. Way too much is going on, and as you start palming him, he lets out the most pained groan. He sees you biting your lip and he's so angry, so horny, he doesn't know what to do with himself.
Your dad suddenly wakes up, and the bubble pops. You pretend you're asleep on Joel's shoulder, and you know you've won when Joel tells your dad to just go on up, that he'll make sure she gets to bed.
As soon as your dad's bedroom door shuts, Joel grabs your jaw, glaring at you.
“Exactly what the fuck do you think you're doing, little girl?” He spits, and you giggle softly.
“‘m not doing anyth- ow, Joel!” You whimper when he squeezes your cheeks together.
“You gonna tell the truth now? Gonna answer me properly?” He says, tone and eyes cold as the ice on your driveway.
You nod, trying to stifle your whimper. He eases the grip on your jaw, still holding it, before asking you again.
“What do you think you're doing?” He says through clenched teeth, and you know he's not fucking around anymore.
“I.. I just..” Fuck it, you may as well shoot your shot, otherwise what was the point of everything tonight anyway?
“I wanted you to fuck me, Joel.”
Creak goes the step at the top of your staircase, and you squeak, jumping off the couch as Joel pulls the blanket and a pillow over his lap. You rush upstairs past your dad, hurriedly bidding him goodnight before slamming your door.
“Just came to grab my phone. Everythin' alright..?” He asks, brows furrowed at your skittish behaviour.
Joel nods, and your dad leaves him alone.
His cock has been throbbing for hours. So long that it's actually painful. But now he can't do anything. You and your dad are upstairs, you'll be asleep in 5 minutes, and Joel will just have to pretend it's your pussy wrapped around his length when he fucks his fist in the guest bedroom tonight.
-
Guilt gnaws away at him as he cleans his come off of his hand and stomach, tossing the tissues into the bin before changing into some sweats and managing to fall asleep after half an hour of tossing and turning.
The world seems to hate him, since he wakes up at 2am, heading to the bathroom only to walk past your bedroom and hear you moaning. He can't make out what you're moaning - but he has a good idea - and he's thankful your doors are quiet when he opens the one to your room.
You're facing away from the door, legs spread, face in your pillow as your hips buck, fingers working your pussy furiously.
“Joel, Joel, fuck-” you gasp, whimpering as you get close.
Fuck this.
If he didn't get to come for the entire evening, you did not get to come right now.
He walks over to you, morales abandoned, and growls your name.
You squeak, biting your lip as you turn and look at him. You'd been so close, but now you're too petrified to finish.
“Joel, I-”
“Not another word.”
It's the last thing he says before he flips you back onto your stomach, pushing your head down into the pillows.
“You're gonna be a good girl and shut the fuck up while I fuck this needy pussy. You understand me?”
You part your lips to reply, earning a spank to your ass.
“Can't fuckin’ listen, can ya? No talking, baby.”
You nod, whimpering as he pushes your head back down and pulls your soaked panties off, tossing them onto the floor.
“Fuck, look at her. Drippin’ for me, ain't she? Didn't know you were such a slut, babygirl.” He teases, knuckles dragging along your slit, and you cry into the pillow, hips bucking back against his hand.
Another spank, making you moan, trying to stop your hips from bucking once more.
“You take what you're fucking given. Do you understand me?”
You nod, having learnt from your mistakes.
“Good girl. Knew you could listen for me.” He coos, before he's thrusting two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat.
You gasp and whine, moaning his name into the pillow, almost tearing your sheets with how hard you grip them.
“That's right.. moan my name. Fuckin’ slut.” He grunts, head ducking down to tease your clit with his tongue. You almost lose it, starting to clench hard and fast around his fingers. You're right on the edge when he pulls away.
“Joel!” You practically sob, deflating as your orgasm drifts away.
“Shh, shh. You thought you could tease me all night and still get off? Y’thought wrong, honey.” He coos, mocking, pulling down his sweatpants and slicking up his cock with your wetness, giving you no warning as he starts to push in.
“Ohh, fuck. Knew you'd be tight for me, baby. That's it, good girl.” He groans, bottoming out. He allows you to cry his name into the pillow, but when he starts really fucking you, it gets too much.
He pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you, making you almost scream, back arching and hips bucking - unsure if you want him to get out, or fuck you even harder.
He decides for you, starting to pound into you. The only sounds in the room are your broken moans, his heavy breathing, and the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin.
“Joel- Joel- pl-please I'm gonna come- please Daddy-” you moan, and his hips stutter before he's pulling you up by your hair, his back to your chest when he resumes his aggressive thrusts.
“Shut- the fuck- up.” He pants in-between thrusts, and you whimper, brows drawing together as you get close. He starts rubbing your clit and you see stars, unable to stop yourself from coming.
“Fuckfuckfuck yes, yes daddy- oh my god-” you sob, before he's pulling out and manhandling you onto your back, thrusting back inside to the hilt, palm covering your mouth.
“You better shut up right now unless you want your real daddy to wake up, find us here like this-” you curse silently when you clench around him at the thought - what is wrong with you?
“Oh, you like that? Dirty fucking girl. Such a slut for daddy, huh?” You clench tighter at that, and his thrusts speed up, pace irregular. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.”
His hand leaves your mouth and you cover it yourself, not wanting to anger him anymore.
“‘s okay, baby.” He murmurs, taking your hand from your mouth and leaning down to kiss you. As he does, his hand goes to your clit, and you moan loudly, muffled slightly by the kiss, as your back arches off the bed and you come so hard you see stars, setting off his own release and making him groan, biting your shoulder as he fills you up.
It's quiet for a moment, save for your shared panting, before he pulls out.
“Fuck, honey..” he murmurs, watching your shared fluids dribble out of your cunt, gathering them up on his fingers and pushing them back into your tight hole.
“Made such a mess, didn't we?” He says softly, brushing your hair away from your eyes as you giggle softly, nodding.
“That was so good.” You whisper, and he nods, gathering you up in your arms.
“Joel, you can't stay in here-” you mutter, confused.
“Just relax, honey. I'll leave in the mornin’. Just let me hold you for now.”
You're utterly perplexed, but you're definitely not complaining, swallowed up by his warmth and drifting off within a minute.
-
The next morning, you're opening presents, and you bite your lip when he reads his card from you. At the bottom, you'd added - come to my room afterwards for the second part of your gift - and when he comes upstairs afterwards, it's safe to say he doesn't leave for a good hour.
Dividers by @adornedwithlight <3
Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a good Christmas everyone!! ❤️
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Past and Future (Happy Birthday Lighter)
🍓Finished this shit at 4:30am, if y'all don't enjoy this I will kill myself. Anyway had fun writing this, it's more of me fucking around and finding out with Lighter's character, but I think it's fluffy and cute so... enjoy lol
TW: Mentions of Death; Suicidal ideation
Info: Lighter x GN!Reader; Angst to Fluff (?) Kinda?; hurt and comfort (i think??)
Word Count: 2k
December 27th. Two days after Christmas, five days before New Year's. Oddly placed on the calendar, awkwardly smooshed between two major holidays in New Eirdu. To most, it was insignificant, just another day. To Lighter it was something he dreaded each year. Between the holiday cheer and the buzz of excitement for the new year, it was nothing more than a looming cloud dampening his mood.
December 27th, Lighter Lorenz’s birthday, one of the worst days of his life.
He didn’t hate birthdays, they were nice when they were for other people. He had to admit he enjoyed getting gifts for others and seeing their eyes light up when they opened it, and the light atmosphere when everyone sang a horrendously off-key rendition of the birthday song was hard to hate. They were celebrations of the life of that person, a hurrah to cheer them into another long year until the next came around. He just hated his own.
Gifts and cake and warm fuzzy sweet nothings acted only as reminders that he was alive. He was alive, and everyone else who deserved to be wasn’t. Another marker of another year since he lost everything. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, maybe sleep until the 28th or run away for a while, but the girls wouldn’t let him.
They’d managed to weasel his birthday out of him about a year into his being here, and they made a point to celebrate it each year. Nothing big, they knew he wasn’t one for huge crowds outside of his fights, but still a party where they showered him with gifts and congratulations that he did not deserve. He didn’t have it in him to tell them to stop.
So, year after year he grinned and bared it with as much grace as someone as fucked up as he could. It wasn’t hard to be grateful for all they did for him, but it was always hard to smile and accept it like he deserved it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy, not when his stupidity cost the lives of good people – wonderful people, who he loved.
He usually only lasted until Burnice got out the nitro fuel, then he would quietly slip away from his own party to be alone. The quiet was easier on his mind than the distractions of colorful confetti and sweet cake made just to his taste. He liked to sit in the pain, to recede into that cocoon of hurt, as if to apologize to his friends by torturing himself.
This year was no different, of course. Just as Burnice handed out the nitro fuel, he quietly slunk into the shadows, smiling to himself as the rest of the Sons of Calydon remained celebrating in his steed. He walked his way to his bike, sighing in the cool night air. The breeze on his skin was the only comfort from the hell in his mind.
He let the air out, hand tucking into his pocket to pull out the little thing of candy he carried around on him. The little lemon drops fall into his palm with ease, and he tosses them back with practiced ease. He rarely felt like smoking anymore, but his birthday was always a struggle. The heightened emotions made him want to take the easy route out, to fall back on his old ways and make stupid mistakes in hopes it would make him feel better. Instead of giving in, though, he sucked on those candies like a saving grace. It was the least he could do for his old friends.
As he stopped in front of his bike, he shoved the candies back into his pocket. Taking a second to himself in the quiet of the night. It was almost over, just a few more hours, and the pain would lessen back down to an ache again. A little longer and he wouldn’t have to worry about constant reminders of being alive, and he wouldn’t have to save face for everyone else’s sake.
“Lighter?” A quiet, soft, almost worried voice from behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening when he saw it was you. You’d been quiet about his birthday all month, not bothering him with any reminders. You knew, intrinsically, how much he hated it. You always knew everything about him, it was an infuriating quirk of yours that he would never want to go away.
“Hey, dollface,” his voice just as quiet as he raised his arm for you to duck under, “got tired of the party?”
You press yourself into his side, enjoying the warmth of your personal heater, “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Me stupid? Never. Just needed some air.”
“Is this getting some air just for you, or could you use some company?” You offer, giving him the reins.
He liked the alone time, he wanted to wallow in self-pity more than anything in the world. His head reminded him that he deserved to be alone on a night like this. Yet, your eyes flutter a little at him, and your lashes brush away those awful thoughts like nothing.
“I’ve always got room for you,” he hums, giving you one last squeeze before helping you on the bike.
The drive is peaceful, the breeze cooling his hot skin like an apology from the world for all he’d been put through. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he wouldn’t deny the feeling either. Your arms wrapped firmly around his middle, head pressed against his shoulder only calmed him further. It grounded him back in the present, reminding him that the past had long passed and that he still had things to live for.
The Sons of Calydon, who took him in and cared for him despite how distant he was at the start. The Proxies, who took special care to stop by earlier and give him a gift, congratulated him for being so strong and thanked him for his constant help when they needed it. The other former members of his mercenary group who, despite how much he wanted to deny it, held no ill will to him and wished him the best for the future.
And, of course, you curled against his back. You trusted him with your life, and he would easily lay his down for you – not that you’d let him if you had any say. You kept reminding him every single day that he was someone worth loving, that he was more than his past, and that he was the one who could define what his future looked like. It was hard not to picture it without you there, not with how attached he’d become to your little displays of love for him.
Displays like this, following him out of his party to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself more than he was already hurting. He smiles warmly back at you as he eases his bike to a stop at his favorite quiet spot. You smile back pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving to get off the bike.
You intertwined your fingers with his like it was second nature as you walked to the fence at the cliff's edge. From here you could see the endless desert, and the edge of the hollow, the moon peaking over it in an almost beautiful display. He helps you sit on the fence, placing a protective hand around your waist to keep you from falling forward.
Your hand presses his head into your shoulder, scratching at his scalp with such care it nearly makes his knees buckle. Another reminder of what he has that he couldn’t afford to lose. No one has known him the way you know him, no one has ever had the effect you have on him. It was almost enough to make all the horror of his past dissipate in his mind, but a small part of him still clung to it. Unwilling to allow himself to fully forget.
“You okay?” You ask, interrupting the quiet bubble that had formed around you.
He nods, “Thinking.”
“About…?” You urge with a raise of a brow, unbearably cute in his mind's eye.
He smiles, genuine for the first time that night, “About how much I love you.”
You shake your head at him, but you don’t argue with him about how he’s lying, or try and force him to tell you everything. You don’t need to. You always trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s another thing about you that he couldn’t risk losing.
You let the quiet fall over you again, leaning into his chest with a content hum. He allows himself to indulge in your affections for now, preferring having you here in his arms than staring aimlessly at the skyline by himself. It was easier to swallow the ache in his throat with you to soften the harshness of the feeling, regardless of whether you knew you did it or not.
He wonders, hopelessly, what his old friends would think of you. They would like you, he was sure of that. You had a personality that would let you fit right in with their eclectic group. The idea of you smiling side by side with them warms his chest, his heart aching as it fades away. A dream he’d never get to see.
He’s not aware that he’s crying, he’s not sure how long he has been crying, all he knows is that you turn to him and cradle his face in your hands. They wipe at his tears without needing to be asked, another quiet reassurance that you cared for him regardless of what was going on in his head.
Lighter sniffles pathetically as his eyes lock with your worried ones. You seem to know what's wrong without him needing to say it, which he likely wouldn’t be able to do if you weren’t able to deduce it on your own. You frown at him, bringing him down to kiss his forehead.
“I’m sorry it’s so hard,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him.
He pulls you in tightly, desperate for the skinship you offered up, “It never gets easier. Everything is a reminder.”
“I know, that’s okay,” you press a kiss to the side of his face, “I don’t think you need to forget it, Lighter. I think you need to learn how to live with it.”
He closes his eyes, the hollow where they’re buried fading from sight as if looking at it would blind him now. He holds you even closer, letting your words sink in. Learning to live with it, sounded much easier than it probably was. Maybe you were right though, he’d done so much wallowing and running, maybe it was time he found a way to live with the pain.
“Mistake, failure, accident… it doesn’t matter what you call it,” you continue, pulling him back to look him in the eyes, “It’ll always hurt, but that hurt is a reminder of how human you are. You don’t want to lose that. Remember it, feel it, and they’ll never really leave you.”
You swallow, taking him in with those pretty eyes of yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he needed to hear tonight. He presses you into a kiss, soft and light and nervous. He was afraid you’d disappear if he was too rough. You melt into it, indulging him like he hoped you would. This was the only way he knew how to show you his appreciation, words would never be enough to display how deeply he cared for you.
When he pulled away you were breathless, face flushed from lack of oxygen, and indescribably beautiful. He smiled subconsciously at you, and you returned the look with all the love and admiration in the world.
“Happy Birthday Lighter,” You say soft as the wind still tussling your hair, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” He repeats back, and he feels the ache in his chest lessen every second he spends looking at you. You taught him a lot since he met you. A lot about himself, a lot about those around him, a lot about you. Most importantly, tonight you taught him that despite his past, he made a future for himself that he should be more determined to remember to protect.
#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader#lighter x reader#lighter zzz#lighter zzz x reader#zzz lighter x reader#zzz lighter#lighter#zzz lighter lorenz#lighter lorenz#lighter lorenz x reader#zzz lighter lorenz x reader
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~You're still my person. Even if I'm not yours.~
Part two
"We kept crossing paths, near misses and almosts, when all I ever wanted was for us to collide." -Jessica Katoff
Synopsis - Some time has passed, and you think you've healed. But when you're shot by an unsub, old wounds are ripped open for all to see.
Category- Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
Notes - Hurt/comfort, you get shot, Canon typical violence, blood and gore, angst, self-loathing, self-blaming, a year has passed between this and part one, gender-neutral reader (I only use They/Them pronouns because I know everyone likes Spencer not just the girlies), I'm so sorry this is so long, you're a trooper if you get through all of this. The fic started writing itself :/
A/N- this is for @bloodredrubyrose and everyone else who wanted the happy ending. I hope this is okay.
WARNING- This one-shot has violence similar to the cases in the show, but I wanted to bring attention to what transpires and is mentioned in this fic. The case revolves around murdered pregnant women and their fetuses. If the topic is too sensitive for you or can trigger anything, I suggest not reading this.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
A year has passed since J.J.'s wedding.
You still find yourself hurting, lying awake at night thinking of the possibility of "What if?". You still have to shake away the thoughts of inadequacy, of not good enough.
Sometimes, when you're particularly tired or inebriated, you find yourself still unable to look away from him.
It was three weeks and two days after the wedding when Spencer invited you to hang out with him again. It was a month, two weeks, and eleven hours when he greeted you with a genuine smile again.
It was eight months, three weeks, six days, and two hours when you felt like you could breathe again.
Everything was back to normal. It wasn't bright, shiny rainbows and glittery kittens like Penelope said it would be once you healed. But it was normal.
It was easier to ignore the festering pit in your stomach during the day, easier to look your team in the eye, say, "I'm okay." and mean it. It was easier to watch Spencer heal the same way you were.
You were so proud of him. It felt like your Spencer was back. His long-winded speeches about something that didn't seem relevant but ended up helping the case drastically, his magic tricks in the bullpen when Hotch was in his office, and his goofy authenticity. All of it was back, at least partially.
He still got quiet when J.J. was around and closed in on himself. But compared to those days after the wedding, he was making immense progress. You just wished he let you in so you could help.
"I don't think they're listening."
You barely hear Morgan's voice over the bubbling thoughts that threatened to take control and invade your mind.
"Oh, sugar they're definitely not listening."
Penelope's hand was slamming down on your desk, startling you out of your reverie.
"What's on your mind, honey pot?"
She asks, propping herself up on the table. With her quirked eyebrow and intense look in her eye, you knew what she was asking.
"Are you still hurting?"
She was right to be worried, right to involve herself in case you got worse again. But instead of thinking about Spencer and how you'll never be on the receiving end of his affectionate gaze, you were actually thinking about the case.
There was a lull in leads, the ones you had only took the team to a dead end. Dead body after dead body and still nothing.
"I'm fine, Pen. This case is just taking a lot out of me."
And it was true. The BAU had been called in because a dead body had been unearthed by a gardener somewhere East. A heavily pregnant woman had been murdered, her unborn child ripped from her body and buried with her.
It was horrifying, to say the least, the brutality of the unsub turning your breakfast sour. But it had been seven hours since the team landed in the small town, and you were still no closer to finding the culprit.
"Why don't we get something to eat, hmm?"
Penelope suggested, hopping off the table and holding out her hand for you.
"If you're getting food, get me a little somethin'. I'm in the mood for Chinese!"
Morgan yelled from across the room, his hip propped against the clear board Spencer was mumbling at.
"I guess we're getting Chinese."
You chuckle, standing up and following Penelope out of the makeshift conference room the local police allowed you to use. As you were passing Spencer, you turned to him and called his name.
"Do you want anything specific?"
He looks to you, eyes reluctantly leaving his equations as he's pulled from his thoughts.
"What?"
There was a surge of affection at the sight of his pursed lips and furrowed brows. The way his hands fiddled with the marker, clicking the lid on and off the end.
"We're getting the team Chinese takeout. Do you want anything?"
"Just a fork."
You nod your head, peeling yourself away from his attentive gaze. When you and Penelope get in the car, she places a hand on yours. You didn't take your eyes off the road, but you could tell that she was looking at you with that look again.
"How have you been, sugar?
It felt good to have someone watching over you, someone in your corner, to ask if you were okay even after time had passed and you were healed.
"I've been doing good."
She was the only one to know of your breakdown on Rossi's front porch. She was the only one you allowed to see what it did to you those weeks afterward. How depressed you were, how hopeless. Penelope Garcia was your best friend, and she was the only one to know you were still unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Spencer Reid.
"Are you sure about that? I know this case is a doozy but I know that look in your eye."
You briefly take your eyes off the road once you reach a red light, patting the hand that now rested comfortingly on your thigh.
"Yes, I'm fine. It doesn't feel like the world is ending anymore. Plus, life is unfair sometimes. I just need to roll with the punches."
She looked at you, her knowing eyes always privy to the storm that rolled beneath your skin. In one final attempt to comfort her worry, you flash her your most believable smile.
Penelope quirked an eyebrow and looked away, not at all convinced but persuaded to leave it be for the time being.
The trip for food was brief. You got various dishes in case the team was in the mood for a certain thing. You were back at the station within twenty minutes, walking into the conference room to something you never wanted to see.
Your team was gathered around the table, faces grim as they spoke towards the phone sitting in the middle.
"Another body..."
Penelope whispers, catching the eyes of Morgan as he shakes his head solemnly. Hotch was already giving the team their orders.
Morgan and Emily were dispatched to question the family as the local police had already ID'd the girl. She was a well-known and loved woman; she was a part of the PTA, led the neighborhood watch, and hosted bake sales for all parts of the community.
J.J. was asked to stay behind and deal with the journalists and news anchors that suddenly surrounded the station.
That left you and Spencer to follow up with the police at the scene of the crime. Spencer drove the two of you there, your knee bouncing in the passenger seat as you watched the scenery pass by.
"I don't get it..."
Spencer mumbles. When you look to him for an explanation he was already glancing at you.
"Why pregnant women? Why take the baby out and bury it with the mother? It makes no sense."
You flip down the visor, both because you need to get the sun out of your eyes and to do something with your hands.
"Maybe they're surrogates for his real target? A mother? Maybe he's upset at his mom and taking the baby is a way to give mercy to his inner child."
"Or maybe," Spencer counters, long fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he pulls into the crime scene. "They're surrogates for a wife."
The scene before you was gnarly. And unfortunately, the unsub had changed M.O.
The woman was buried in a shallow grave like the others, dressed in a thin white gown, poised perfectly like Snow White with her child tightly swaddled in a towel and tucked safely in her arms. The only difference was the lack of blood, the lack of brutality. That, and she had blonde hair whereas the other victims were brunettes.
"He's devolving."
You mutter, feeling sick at the sight of her.
"Or he's getting close to what he's wanting to do."
You look up at him from your squatted position, taking in Spencer in all his glory. He looked so good in his FBI vest, with his sweater and tie peeking out from the collar.
You shouldn't be thinking of him like that. Not when a woman and her child had lost their life and they lay decaying in front of you. Not when you should already be over him.
"What do you mean?"
"She looks perfectly preserved. Sure, she's laid out in the same outfit and the same position. The color and the way she's laid are meant to symbolize purity. So we know he isn't murdering for hatred. He feels sympathy for these women. But look at this,"
He crouches next to you, the movement sending your heart into overdrive. His sleeves were rolled up as he shoved his hands into some blue surgical gloves. You could even smell his cologne.
"Her hair," He picks up a strand. "Her hair had been styled. There's a texture to it that means he used hairspray. And while the others' hair was wild and unkempt, most likely because he kept them for some time or they fought back, her's is washed and curled."
"So we know this woman is a surrogate, but he's not acting on any sexual or vengeful impulse?"
Spencer turned to you, looking at you from above his sunglasses.
"I think we're ready to give the profile."
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
"We are looking for a white male in his mid to late thirties."
Morgan starts as he leans against one of the desks, his arms folded against his chest. Emily stepped up, continuing on as she stared each and every officer down to make sure they were taking this as seriously as it was.
"Look for someone who had recently lost a wife and child during the birth, someone who is most likely blue collar. He would have been a normal man up until his loss. Now, he would be agitated and easily riled up. Getting into fights or arguments when he normally wouldn't. "
You step in, delivering the line you rehearsed in your head over and over on the ride back to the station.
"He's kidnapping pregnant women so he could relive the birth. So he could hold his child and kiss his wife. But he's desperate, so he is taking the babies out prematurely and amateurly that neither victim survives. He would need a space to do all of this, a garage, a second home, or a place of work. Somewhere concealed enough to not draw attention but spacious enough to perform the c-section."
It was now Hotch's turn to deliver the final line of the profile.
"He will continue to take women until he gets what he wants. We need to make sure Kate Smith is his last victim."
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
You found him. Carl McGregor, a welder for a construction company. His wife of six years died giving birth to his child, and he went off the rails.
You sympathized with him, knowing that he was in so much pain. But that didn't excuse what he did to those poor women and the families they were a part of.
Carl was hiding out in his garage, a woman in the last week of her second trimester strapped to the table; screaming for help.
You were the first on the scene, your legs carrying you just a bit faster than the others. When you opened the garage door, you had to put every ounce of will not to tackle the guy to the ground.
"FBI! Put the scalpel down Carl!"
Carl was hovering over Debbie Park, a young mother of three and a half. He had her strapped to a makeshift stretcher and her terrified screams broke your heart.
"No!" Carl said with a crazed look in his eyes. "My wife is about to give birth, give her space!"
You lower your gun so the barrel isn't aimed straight at his skull but keep it raised just in case. When you spoke, you made sure you sounded as calm and understanding as possible.
"Carl, your wife died three weeks ago giving birth to your son. Let Debbie go so her husband doesn't experience the loss you did.
You don't know how or when Spencer made it into the garage but he suddenly appeared in the shadows, his gun aimed at Carl.
"No, please!" Carl was focused on you, his shaking hands still holding Debbie down. "This is my wife! Why are trying to take her away?"
You lower your gun entirely, feeling safe with Spencer there to have your back. You approached Carl slowly, keeping your body crouched as if you were approaching a scared and wounded animal. Because that's exactly what he was. A scared and wounded animal.
"Carl?" You put a hand on his shoulder. He winces but doesn't attack. "Debbie has a family, she has three kids and a husband who are worried sick about her. Do you want to put her husband and kids through the same pain you're feeling?"
It all happened so fast. First Carl was lunging at you, a gun you didn't know he had raised before you could pull your own. Debbie's screams mixed with yours as Spencer fired his gun and took Carl down.
There was a sharp sting to your chest, your right shoulder to be exact just under your collarbone. Upon Carl's death, his finger squeezed the trigger and put a bullet three inches from your heart.
Spencer was in front of you before you could collapse, cradling your head to save it from bashing against the concrete ground.
"I need a medic!"
Spencer yelled into his com, his face wild with worry as he pressed his hands into your wound.
It hurt, sending a blazing fire throughout your body. In the back of your mind, you heard yourself scream from the pain, your throat raw and ragged. Your hands uncontrollably gripped Spencer's vest, clutching him closer to you as you tried to breathe around the sharp, boiling pain.
"You're going to be okay, the medic is on his way."
Spencer's voice sounded far away, garbled and hazy like he was underwater. Panic soon tore across your body, thrumming through your veins as you tried to ignore the sticky warmth pooling through your shirt.
"No, no, stay with me. Stay with me please!"
You barely felt Spencer's cold hands patting your cheek. You had to say it now, as you were dying. This was your last chance to tell him how you feel. You already felt yourself slipping away.
"Spence..."
Your mouth felt so dry, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. He was shaking above you, pulling your body into his lap as he rocked you back and forth.
"I'm here, I'm here. I'm not leaving, you'll be okay."
You felt he was saying that more for himself than he was for you.
It was hard to unfurl your fingers from his vest but you did it, lifting your hand to cradle his cheek. It was now or never.
"Before I die, I need you to know-"
"No!" Spencer seethed. You had never seen him so emotional before, so upset he looked feral. "You are not going to die! Where's my fucking medic?!"
"I need you to know, that I love you."
He smoothed his hands over your face, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "I love you too, you're my best friend."
You let out a breathy, strangled, humourless chuckle. Of course he'd make you spell it out for him.
"I'm in love with you, Spencer..."
Black was edging your vision, your ears ringing as you watched Spencer blink once, twice, before the medic pushed him away.
Faintly you felt your body being moved, that white-hot pain once again rendering you speechless as you finally succumbed to the darkness that was calling to you.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Spencer couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't taste, or hear, or feel. Frantic, animalistic worry overpowered every other emotion. Logic be damned, facts be damned.
"Reid, calm down or you're gonna wear a hole in the floor."
"There is a high chance the bullet nicked a vital vein or artery. It took us fifteen minutes and thirty seconds to get them to the hospital and another six minutes for the doctors to start operating. There is a higher chance that they lost too much blood and will need a transfusion. If they need a transfusion there is a chance they could have a Febrile non-hemolytic transfusion reaction or a Transfusion-related acute lung injury. There are so many possibilities to think over and every time I think I've found a way to stop them another one pops up. Do not tell me to calm down!"
Morgan backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
"My bad, man."
Emily was next to approach him and he had to look away from the worry on her face.
"Only thinking about what could go wrong will only cause you more stress. Maybe you should go home and take a shower."
"Stop telling me what to do."
He didn't recognize his voice, and he knew his friends didn't recognize him. So he backed off, settling himself in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and put his head in his hands.
Emily was right. Derek was right. But if he thought about anything other than the complications that could take you away from him all he would focus on were the last words you uttered before blacking out.
"I'm in love with you, Spencer."
He didn't know what to do with that information. After J.J. he didn't allow himself to even look a second longer at someone that was out of his league. Which was everyone. Especially you.
You were so kind and gentle with him. You let him go on his rants, asking him to finish what he was saying if the team not so subtly told him to shut up or bluntly interrupted him. You loved his endless facts and knowledge and you told him often.
You were like a beacon of light when you entered the room, his gaze unconsciously looking for you wherever he was. You were his best friend; you knew everything about him and still treated him like a human being. Not some computer, not some freak.
Spencer let out a shaky breath, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His hands were shaky and he couldn't keep still to save his life. He had never felt like this before, not when a gun was pointed in his face, not when the bureau was infiltrated. Not even when Emily was in the hospital.
He'd never been this scared shitless before.
And then it hit him.
He was in love with you.
He had been for a while. Maybe after J.J., maybe before. Spencer didn't know when it happened or how deeply it had been buried. All he knew was that it was now so fucking obvious.
It felt so natural. He had always thought you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. Always thought that you'd be a phone call away when he needed you and he'd be the same. Whenever he thought of something you were always there, in the back of his mind like you belonged there.
He faintly heard a commotion, the sound of chairs scraping against the ground and footsteps running away. He looked up from the floor, his body fuzzy from the realization.
Spencer bolted from his seat the moment he saw the doctor standing in front of his team. He gently shoved aside Morgan and J.J. needing to hear the news as close as possible.
"They're stable and awake. It had just barely missed their heart, but they will heal with no permanent damage."
Spencer could have dropped to his knees with relief, his body sagging and his lungs deflating.
"Can I- we see them?"
"Of course, but we still need to take their vitals frequently. And a room full of people would not be best stress-wise so I suggest one to two people at a time."
Morgan clapped him on the back, a knowing look on his face before shoving him forward.
"We're going to get something to eat. You check on our sunshine."
After all the attitude he threw their way, he was dumbfounded that they would give him such a precious opportunity.
"Thank you,"
"No problem, Pretty Boy."
When Spencer entered your room, it was like he walked into a different reality. You were usually so bright and shining, carving a path of light and kindness wherever you stepped, but now you were lifeless. The tubes and wires hooked up to you made you look so uninhabited; pale, and sickly from the blood loss.
Spencer approached the bed, being careful not to make any noise that would startle you awake. Your eyes were closed and he assumed you were probably in and out of consciousness due to the pain meds they were pumping into you.
He hated seeing you like this.
"Spence?"
He hadn't realized you had awoken, too focused on all the machinery you were hooked up to.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
Spencer didn't know what to do with his body so he just stood there, willing his emotions into submission and picking at the skin of his thumbs.
"I feel like I just got hit by a train."
You groan and he is at your side immediately, checking the monitors and making sure your pain meds are working. They were, but he needed to make sure.
"What no fact about processing pain or how it affects the body?"
You were looking up at him now, a pained but genuine smile on your face. In the hour that he worried relentlessly about you, he feared he'd never see that again.
That smile faded into something akin to concern when he didn't respond.
"What's wrong Spence?"
"I thought you were going to die."
He sounded so small, even to his own ears. Weak, scared. Like a child.
You waved him over closer, and he listened. If you told him to, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. It surprised him when you grabbed his hand and placed it over your heart, the roughness of the gauze grazing his shaking fingers. He tried to pull away, but you kept him there so he could feel your heartbeat.
"I'm still here, Spencer. You can't get rid of me that easily."
"Do you-" He couldn't stand not knowing anymore. The probability of people saying things they didn't mean while bleeding out was too high for him to think clearly any longer. "Do you remember what you said to me?"
He watched your face turn sad, your lips turn inward and your eyes drop to the hospital-grade blanket. You also dropped his hand, the limb numbly swinging back by his side.
"Yes," You refused to look at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, it was unfair of me."
"No, I-"
"I understand if I've ruined everything. I don't blame you if you don't want to be friends anymore."
Before he could think and rehearse a thought-out sentence, his mouth moved and spoke for him. "I don't want to be friends."
He realized his mistake not a second later. And to make up for it, to take away the pain on your face, he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him.
"I love you too, so much so that the idea of you dying turned me into an illogical and emotional mess."
Tears lined your wide eyes as you stared up at him, your cheeks regaining some color. Now that he's said it out loud, he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried.
"I love you so much, that I want to take away all your pain. All the bad memories and shitty feelings that take away that pretty smile. I'd do anything for you."
You reached up and cupped his cheek, much like hours before, your lip quivering.
"I'd do anything for you too, Spence."
"I know."
It felt natural to kiss your forehead, to settle into the small hospital bed, and tuck you gently into his side. It felt natural to, days later after you were discharged, take you on a proper date and call you his.
A/N- Realistically I know there would be more turmoil, less trust, and more self-doubt during the confession part but this is fiction of fiction so let's just pretend okay:) I'll save that stuff for the full-length stuff. Also along the lines of reality, I know that there is such a thing as a bulletproof vest, but I needed drama so forgive me.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#no use of y/n#canon typical violence#angst with a happy ending#confession
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Late Night
AN: this tweet changed my life I could not stop thinking about this i needed to write this i need you all to b thinking about this too
Relationships: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader
Summary: You and Hunter have been together for years now, living out a happy life on Pabu. You're spending the night together, and time has done nothing to quell your desires.
WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, edging (it's ok he can take it), old man hunter im dedd 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 2k I did not proofread this apologies in advance if it's bad I hope u can at least get behind the Vibes u feel me
It’s another beautiful night on Pabu. The sun set over the island hours ago, and the moon now bathes the ocean in shimmering silver. As the day wound down, so too did the residents; the paths that bustle by day are all but empty now as everyone settles in for a peaceful night.
All around the island, there is quiet. The only sounds you hear now are the gentle drone of the waves, and his heavy breathing.
Like all the others, you and Hunter retired to your bungalow, but rest is far from your minds. In the dark of your bedroom, you and him are bare, chasing off any chill from the evening air with each other’s warmth. Hunter, the man you’ve loved for a lifetime, is beneath you now. You balance your hands on his broad shoulders, riding him slowly, wonderfully, biting your lip as he meets your gaze with weary eyes.
Even after all these years, making love to him still feels as amazing as it did the very first night you shared together. Each roll of your hips fills you with more of him, and you can’t help but whimper when he hits every spot you love. It seems he hasn’t had his fill of you, either. Though time has had its effects on Hunter, it certainly hasn’t changed the way he yearns for you. Even now, he hangs on your every movement, his vigilant eyes darting between your pleasured expressions and your hips taking his cock.
Deciding he’s gotten a little too comfortable, you descend onto his length at a different angle, allowing him to reach deeper than before. At the sudden sensation, a groan catches in his chest. Between his labored breaths, he chuckles.
“You feel so fucking good, cyar’ika…”
Humming through a smile, you rest your forehead on his.
“You’re one to talk, handsome…” Your fingers trail through his hair, still just as long as when you first met, but having faded to grey some time ago. “I can’t get enough of you.”
That confident, effortless smirk tugs at his lips. You’ve seen it a thousand times, yet each time he wears it, heat still rises beneath your cheeks.
“Heh… is that so?” Though his once defined, sharp muscles have softened from years of respite on the island, he still feels as strong as ever when he grips at your hips. “I guess time hasn’t gotten the best of me in every way…”
At this, it’s your turn to grin. You know it’s been a few long years since the two of you last saw combat; with the clones’ advanced aging, those years have counted double for him. But even if you’re older than you once were, you know you still have plenty of time left.
And it’s when Hunter starts to pretend as though he’s moments from death’s door that you like to remind him what he’s still capable of.
Without warning, you melt against Hunter, draping your arms over his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. His tongue dances with yours, and as his arms hold you flush against him by your waist, you begin to roll your hips more quickly. You move faster, harder, riding him for all he’s worth. You revel in every little noise he makes, the way his eyes flutter shut in pure bliss. His fingers tense, clinging to your hips so desperately as to leave bruises.
In the Force, you feel how close he is. How near he is to losing himself fully in you…
… and right before he hits his peak, you lift yourself off of him, robbing him of the only thing he craves in that moment.
Hunter utters a groan, wincing through the torment of his denied release. He leans his head back against the wall, and you can feel his heart kicking fast against his chest.
“F-Fuck…” he hisses through gritted teeth.
Despite his anguish, you can only grin. You lean forward, lavishing him with gentle kisses as he settles down.
“Easy, Sergeant,” you sing. “I’m not done with you yet.”
As you kneel over him, he dares to glance between your legs. You’re so tantalizingly close to his aching length, and though his desperation is clear on his face, he knows better than to think you’ll be so generous. Utterly helpless, he shakes his head.
“I’m too old for you to be teasing me like this…” he mutters, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You roll your eyes at his self-admonishment.
“Oh, enough…” With a deep exhale, you rest your forehead against his, and your eyes fall shut as you bask in the feeling of him. For every experience you’ve had in every corner of the galaxy, nothing compares to having Hunter all to yourself. “I know you can handle it, even if we may not be young anymore…”
Though he’s clearly just as lost in your attentions, this remark has him prop an eye open to sneer at you.
“‘We’?” he repeats with a chuckle. Sighing, he runs his rough hands up the curves of your waist. “You’ve still got your whole life ahead of you—even if you’re wasting it torturing an old clone like me…”
Your eyes warm, and you bite your lip. With a dangerous twist of your hips, you grind against him, earning a deep grumble from Hunter’s chest. Your lips linger by his ear.
“I think I know my Hunter by now…” you purr, voice low enough to make him shiver, “and if there’s one thing he likes, it’s a challenge.”
Without a word of warning, you lower yourself back onto his cock, taking him deep inside as you begin riding him again. Hunter goes rigid, fumbling for purchase against your hips as they overwhelm him with pleasure. Nothing could ever thrill you more than the way he touches you. For as long as you’ve been together, he’s known exactly how to make your body sing for him. Even now, a desperate mess beneath you, his hands run along your skin purely by instinct.
And luckily, you know his body just as well.
Again, you fuck him harder. Again, you feel the tension in his core, the white-hot release building inside of him…
Again, you stop just short, lifting off of him right before he can come.
Your poor sergeant whines again, his head lolling back as his eyes pinch shut. Between your legs, his cock throbs, twitching in desperate need for the stimulation you’ve so cruelly deprived him of.
“A-ah…!” Between his heavy breaths, chest rising and falling arduously, he moans in complaint. “You’re… fuck, you’re driving me crazy…”
While he grovels in such a sorry state, you’re no worse for wear at all. You place kiss after languid kiss up his neck, tickling his skin with your breath.
“I can keep this up all night, handsome…” Pulling away just enough to catch his eye, you don a mischievous grin. “I think you can, too.”
In the face of your taunting, Hunter surprises you when his smile softens. He cups your face with a trembling hand, running his thumb gently along your cheek. You lean into his touch, admittedly falling victim to his sudden tenderness.
“Tell me…” he asks, “what’s it gonna take for you to let me off, huh?”
You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose against his.
“Hm… I don’t know,” you sigh, playing coy. “I think you might just be too old to manage what I have in mind…~”
With a chuckle, he pinches your cheek. “Try me.”
Pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, you flash him a charming grin.
“Tell me you love me.”
Through his lust-filled gaze, Hunter raises an eyebrow above a half-smirk.
“What… that’s all?”
You nod. “Mm-hm. That is… if you think you can handle—”
You’re cut off when Hunter’s lips catch yours, meeting you in a kiss so deep you nearly feel like you’re drowning. His tongue toys with yours, so desperate to taste you it makes heat flood beneath your cheeks. Still, you can’t help but smile against him. Though Hunter likes to act as though he’s old and grey, now, you know he’s far from gone. In moments like these, you feel the fire that’s burned inside him since the very beginning. It hasn’t faded in the slightest. You know it never will.
When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t stray far, lips ghosting over yours as he holds your gaze with intense eyes.
“I love you, cyar’ika,” he breathes, a solemn swear. “Always have… always will.”
For the first time that night, it seems you’re the one on the backfoot. Eyes wide and innocent, you’re touched by the sincerity of his words. You know Hunter, know that he does everything to the fullest. But hearing for certain that his passion would be yours for as long as you both have left… your heart can scarcely take it.
With sudden desperation, you press your lips to his, and you bury his cock in your warmth. He moans into your mouth, and you moan back, losing yourself to the feeling as you ride him again. Tense hands grip at every part of you—your waist, your ass, your shoulders—leaving marks on your skin as he tries in vain to bear the sensation. But it isn’t long until his resolve begins to break.
As a gasp catches in Hunter’s throat, his lips break from yours.
“F-Fuck, cyar’ika… I’m gonna…”
You already know. You feel his energy shifting—you feel how close he is. His delayed release has only built up to something more intense… but this time, you don’t back off. You indulge him, rolling your hips even faster than before. With what little stamina he has left tonight, he’s thrusting into you, and you whimper aloud as he hits every perfect spot inside you. You’re as close as he is…
And when you reach your climax, you’re amazed he can stay conscious.
Hunter buries himself to the hilt in your cunt, coming deep inside you. Your orgasm milks him for every last drop, and given the way you’ve tormented him tonight, he has plenty to give. By the time you’ve sucked him dry, his overstimulated cock still twitching in your walls, he’s quivering beneath you, completely and utterly spent. He breathes as heavy as he would during the war, on missions that would see him running for hours… You’re sure he’ll ache just as badly, come morning.
After taking a moment to recover, Hunter opens his eyes, gazing up at you with a precious smile. Gingerly, you tuck his hair behind his ears, supporting his head as you meet him in a feather-light kiss.
“I love you, too, Hunter…” you hum, voice barely above a whisper. “Always have, always will.”
The smile he wears is genuine. He tilts his head to catch your hand, placing a kiss on your palm.
“I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you, cyar’ika.” He pauses, then chuckles bitterly as he closes his eyes again. “Even if you’re liable to kill me, putting me through nights like this…”
Your grin turns more playful. Slowly, you lift yourself off of Hunter, relishing the way he shivers as his length falls out of you.
“Be thankful I’m so generous,” you tease as you lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, sighing in utter contentment. “If I weren’t, you would be in for another round… or ten.”
Hunter chuckles, voice reverberating in his broad chest in a way that soothes you more than anything else could. Arm wrapped around you, he traces idle shapes on your skin.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something meaner to treat me to when we wake up tomorrow,” he sighs. His gentle lips press to your forehead. “But for now, let me get some rest, huh?”
Giggling, you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck.
“Hm… all right. But only because I love you so much.”
The warm night air, the distant roar of the waves, the embrace of the man you’ll always love… you can’t imagine anything more perfect. But as always, Hunter finds a way to make the greatest things even greater.
“I love you more, cyar’ika. Always.”
AN: Thank you as always for reading mmwah mwah I hope you enjoy, always stay edging that old man ♥♥
#tbb x reader#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x you#hunter x reader#hunter tbb#tbb hunter x reader#tbb smut#hunter/reader#reader insert#W6fic
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NO LOVE LOST
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Pt.1 .. Pt.2
What happens when Steve finally meets his match... and what happens when she wants absolutely nothing to do with men?
Oh my god I posted this without thanking my queens wtf @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby , @keeryhours thank you for always helping me through any questions and giving me just the inspiration to go for it always !!
18+ minors DNI
WC: 2.9k
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader ( nn- Angel)
TW: mentions of divorce, mentions of food, platonic Stobin, male masturbation.
Rolling over to see the sunrise instead of the slope of curves always made Steve feel like he was in a never-ending rut. It was the same old boring routine, the same cycle day in and day out. Today felt different. Instead of loneliness, when he rolled over, he felt a little twinge of hope.
Hope that got him out of bed before noon and fed his brain with little what-ifs of what could happen tonight. Why? Well, today was Valentine's Day. now he knew what everyone thought what a fucking sap that this was his favorite holiday but fucking sue him. Simply put he was just a guy who loved love and wanted to give what he had and wanted someone to return the fucking favor, but no one ever got the memo.
Every year he looked forward to the corny paper valentines that would hit the shelves in Melvald’s, the carnations people could buy for their sweetheart in high school, and now that he had become an adult he adored the way he and Robin had made it a tradition to go out. She would wear those cringy cupid wings and make him wear a headband with an arrow that looked like it had gone in one ear and out the other, but he loved it Loved going along with the bit if it made her smile.
Tonight he was going to get drunk and take someone home, he had a plan. Buy them a drink, flirt his way into the sheets, and maybe in the morning he could look over and not feel so alone. He would pull out all his best moves, maybe even pull a few of Robin's tried and true that she swore by, anything to not go home by himself.
Hours had passed and he had started to get a little worried since he had heard nothing from Robin about their plans so he decided to text her.
As his phone rang Steve was tempted to let it go to voicemail but knowing Robin, he couldn’t do it, she would be beyond pissed.
“This better be good robs.” he was quiet trying to hear her over the music in the background of wherever she was.
“It’s not ideal but we can’t go out tonight Stevie. I’m so sorry.” He tried to be mad he did but the wave of sadness overwhelmed him. “ I know you probably hate me right now.”
“I don’t hate you, never could.” he cut her off quickly. He could hear the giant sigh of relief she let out.
“look my cousin, she just got divorced and I told her she could stay with me until she got back on her feet and I promised her a night of movies and good pasta. So would you maybe be into doing that instead?” He thought about it, he didn't need Robin to go out but where was the fun in that?
“ What movies ?” she laughed and told him to just bring his ass or he was going to be on wine duty. He laughed with her because when was he not on wine duty, he always brought extra bottles knowing if Robin said she had two she only had about half of one.
So he made his way to the store to pick up two extra bottles of the nicest wine he could find and threw a few bars of chocolate into the mix while he was at the register.
“This all for you ? “ the cashier looked at all he had placed on the little conveyor belt and he nodded his head with a small smile.
“ Indeed it is.”
“ Lucky partner, I wish mine would do something like this instead I’ll probably go home to a husband that forgot.” Steve sadly gives his grievances and hands over the amount he owes, thanking the cashier for helping him.
He felt a small glimmer of happiness that he wasn’t the only one having a shitty holiday, but he was also gutted by the fact that they at least were going to get to go home and curl up next to someone who cared enough to marry them.
The drive wasn’t a long one but god did it feel like it. Robins' small apartment building had a few stories to it and she just so happened to live on the top floor. As he walked up the stairs and towards her door all he could hear was some low rock music floating through. Knocking Robin instantly swung the door open almost as if their platonic telepathy had notified her of his presence but that was shattered as he was shown the screen of her phone.
“Why did you sit outside in your car for five minutes? You scared Stevie ?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Yeah, 'cause you're just so scary Robs.” She gave him a small tug and pulled him into her apartment and the music he had noticed was coming from the kitchen, her small radio blasting out their parent's favorites, the classics as the station called them.
“It smells amazing” He heard coming from the now open bathroom door, steam rolling out behind you and he found that you were only in a towel. Surprise on both of your faces as you didn’t expect Steve to be here by the time you got out of the shower and for him, well he didn’t expect you to be so drop-dead gorgeous. Robin nudges Steve in the stomach with her elbow to get him to shut his mouth since it had slightly dropped open at the sight before him.
“Steve this is my cousin we just call her Angel.” Steve looked at Robin with an upturned smile thinking about how cute her name was, how true it sounded.
“It’s not my name but I had a cat named Lucifer growing up and you know Fallen Angel and all that blah blah blah.” She walks away and into Robin's guest room, steve assumes to get dressed, and turning to Robin he pushes her back for the sharp jab she had given to his ribcage.
“You didn’t tell me she was a walking fucking dream, Buckley.” He hissed out low, scared he would be overheard.
“Not like you have a chance, Steve, she is one my cousin, and two” she also drops down to a whisper. “ Recently divorced.”
“So? If anything I’d say my chances are pretty fucking up there.” She just rolls her eyes and tells him she is going to take a quick shower of her own before the movie marathon she has planned out and asks him to finish up making dinner.
He doesn’t mind, he thinks cooking is calming and honestly it turns his brain off from everything. Sometimes he would make a batch of cookies just to find peace before bed. It was soothing, the process of doing the same thing over and over again and getting the same delicious outcome.
The scent of coconut and rose, a weird mix of the two that worked well hit him, turning to find you standing at the other end of Robin's island.
“I brought some wine for the movies. Would you like a glass?” He took a bottle out of the fridge and grabbed three glasses out of the cabinet. Pouring one for you and one for himself. He hated warm wine and so did Robin so he just put the bottle back in the fridge until she was ready for one.
“You know your way around robins huh?” You questioned, a subtle shift in your tone and Steve thinking nothing of it answered.
“Yeah, it's like my second home honestly.” He turned back to stir the pasta Robin had set to simmer and watched as you sipped on your glass slowly.
“Sorry that I ruined your and Robins's plans she said you guys go out every year.” Steve felt the way his shoulders tensed and shrugged.
“It's nothing just a little tradition.” You sigh walking over to where Steve is standing next to the stove and taking a spoon to the sauce. Tasting it you look Steve in the eye and tell him the pasta needs some pepper. He takes a different spoon tastes it and agrees that it does need something but not pepper it needs something light. So instead he grabs a lemon and grates a bit of it creating the zest he wants to flourish.
You roll your eyes walk over to where you had begun this interaction and pick your glass back up. Steve is standing wondering what exactly he could have done to upset you in the mere minutes you were alone with him and he comes up blank.
“Do we .. is there a problem Angel?” You put a hand on your hip and smile.
“Nope, no problem I just think it's kinda strange you are all alone on Valentine's Day.” And he doesn't mean to, he tries to hold it back but something in your tone sounded like every single past partner's accusation of something being fundamentally wrong with him.
“I could say the same about you but looks like we are both alone.”
“Who's alone?” Robin pops herself back into the kitchen and grabs some plates from a cupboard behind Steve.
“We are, all three of us so painfully single.” You say staring at Steve before taking a plate from Robin that she had filled. She laughs but deep inside it hits Steve like a car to a brick wall. Painfully single, god was he that transparent? Did he just give off that vibe?
“I never said I was single.” You hum taking your plate to the couch and leave him and Robin in the kitchen. She is biting her lip with a sorry look in her eyes.
“I told her we usually spend Valentine's Day looking for someone to spend breakfast with, hate me all you want. “
“Could never “She hands him a plate and sets it down to fill up her glass. Walking over to her living room to find that you had taken his space on the couch, the one he always sat in. The one he could hear best from, see the subtitles from the distance, but you were snuggled in. You had a blanket over your lap and your plate had rested against your chest while you ate and all in his fucking spot. So he took the other cushion a bit off from where the screen could be read clearly but he could just ask Robin to turn it up a bit more. He could do this … right? Get through one Valentine's Day that Cupid decided not to grace him on. He could turn this thing around.
He couldn't. Working on the second bottle close to being finished with sixteen candles and a craving for cake himself Steve could confidently say he could not turn this night around. He had tried to get comfortable in his position and he just couldn’t he felt like your eyes were on him throughout the entire movie which led to him sipping his glass a bit more and now he was past the point of tipsy he was drunk, but at least he wasn't the only one.
Every time he had gotten up to pour himself some more you and Robin would hold your glasses out for a refill and he would more than happily do that, he did, until wine turned into small sips of whatever cheap vodka Robin had in the back of her freezer. When the movie ended he carried Robin to her room since she had passed out in her large chair sometime around the wedding scenes.
Deciding that he would do the best friend thing and tackle the dishes he began running the water and waiting for it to turn warm which always took forever in Robin’s apartment, he swore the heater was starting to go bad but she kept telling him that if it wasn't giving her a cold shower she didn't care. He lathered the dishes setting them on the rack when he was done rinsing them and you had appeared next to him, now dressed in a robe over the comfortable p.js you had been wearing.
Thinking you would just say something but instead just stood there watching him.
“Can I assist you with something?” He could hear the small huff of air that left you like you didn’t expect him to acknowledge your existence.
“Why are you washing our dishes.” He didn’t understand but answered.
“Well you are a guest and Robin hates a dirty sink and I honestly don’t mind doing it-”
“Well stop, you aren’t getting anything out of doing them so just stop. “ Now he was on a whole different planet because what in the fuck were you talking about.
“Excuse me? Who said I needed to get anything just to do the dishes? I don't know who made you feel the need to use everything as a transaction but that is not how things go around here. You see it needs to be done, you do it. No, do this and you shall receive . Fuck you ever just done anything to be a nice person?” He could feel the heat in his cheeks with the alcohol flowing through him, his eyes staring at the room like it was on an axis, and his tone starting to rise in the audacity of wanting something out of Robin. An accusation, another from someone who this time didn’t even know him.
“I’m so-”
“Save it. I just want to go to bed I suggest you do the same.”
“ Do not think for one second you are doing this for nothing.” it stops him on his way to his little makeshift bed on the couch. “ You men are all the same, even if it's not for something transactional you still end up on the side of gain Steven.” He was stuck still, not knowing how to even respond. Who had hurt you into thinking all men were the same? Maybe they were in a club with all of his exes, the ones who made him feel the same way. That all women were set on their relationship with him never going farther unless he was to act like he did in high school, unless he took on the persona of his father. He would never so here he was on Valentine's Day alone, drunk and sleeping on his best friend's couch with a person who hated all men not even a hundred feet away. Lovely.
He didn’t know what time it was when he laid down the numbers on the box beneath Robin's television had been too blurry then, but as the hours went on the numbers seemed to brighten and they now read three a.m. tossing and turning, tired or not being able to find a comfortable position and you, your voice was running through his head over and over, telling him he was only a nice guy for profit. Who the fuck were you to judge him? You didn’t know anything about him and then it sent him on a tangent of well, he didn’t know you either. He could only see what was on the surface, and although the surface was breathtaking he felt the twinge of wanting to know you deep, know the center of what made you, and change your perspective on men, or at least on him.
The longer he thought about you the harder it was to stray away from the thoughts of your face and the way your body looked in that towel. The water dripped from your hair before you had put it up, letting the droplets fall in between-.
Alright, he had to stop, he couldn't think of you that way, or could he? He listened out to see if he heard anything but all he heard was the ice dumping from the fridge and soft snores coming from down the hall. Was he really about to do this?
His dick answered for him, half hard at the thought of just having you drop the towel was all he needed. He let his hand wander under the thin blanket that he had covering himself. Gripping his cock through his boxers and felt the weight of it and squeezed letting it fill out before he slipped his hand beneath the waistband. He started stroking himself wishing it was your mouth on him and you had dropped to your knees in front of him, inviting him in with the warmth. Letting the pre he had slide down his shaft with some help but it just wasn’t enough. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit in it imagining that it was you who had provided and he let his fist wrap around the length again. The slick wet sounds worked him up and he took and pushed his boxers out of the way with his other hand. Letting his hips buck into the pull of his dick, hissing out at the feeling of his release approaching fast.
“Need a hand?”
#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington Smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#No love lost#steve harrington stranger things#steve x female reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x reader#platonic stobin#steve harrington smut#steve harrington series
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Love language.
summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! where your love language with jude is pretty funny, hope you enjoy it!! Xoxo
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!
Word count: about 1,4k
Jude Bellingham had an overwhelming presence, both on and off the field. With his imposing height, sculpted muscles, and that inexplicable aura that made him seem almost untouchable, he intimidated anyone who crossed his path. Every time he stepped onto the pitch in his Real Madrid jersey, his dominance was evident. He was the leader, the strategist, and, in many ways, a dominant figure in every aspect of his professional life.
However, all of that faded as soon as he crossed the threshold of his home.
It was a quiet afternoon in his stylish apartment in Madrid. You, his girlfriend, were in the kitchen preparing pancakes for a cozy movie night, while Jude was in the living room, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, sprawled out on the sofa in a relaxed posture. His height took up most of the couch, and he seemed, at least at that moment, like the most peaceful man in the world.
“Amooor!” Jude called from the living room in a voice that resembled nothing of the fierce footballer he was—“What are you doing? Come here, I feel abandoned.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you chopped the vegetables. You knew perfectly well that Jude had a completely mushy side that would be impossible for most people to imagine. It was your little secret, and you loved seeing him act that way, especially because it was so opposite to the public image everyone had of him.
“I’m making pancakes, Jude. You can survive just a few minutes, can’t you?” you replied, amused.
“Um… do you need help?” Jude began, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You laughed, knowing that Jude was more than capable of helping, but he was also an expert at seizing any opportunity to annoy you with his typical guy comments.
“I think I can handle it. Just need you not to interrupt me with your stupid jokes.”
“I promise nothing,” he responded.
Jude leaned in toward the bowl, peeking at the batter. He curved his lips into a smile as if a silly idea had just crossed his mind.
“Those pancakes look really good,” he said. —Oh, maybe he wasn't going to be a complete idiot with his comments today. — you thought. Jude rubbed his face against your neck in an adorable way. “But instead of that, don’t you want me to drizzle my maple syrup over your little pancakes?”
Forget it, this guy truly has no cure.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “That was so fucking disgusting, Jude Bellingham!”
In the end, a stack of golden pancakes piled high on the plate, while laughter and love filled the kitchen. Jude looked at you with that deep and sincere gaze, reminding you that, behind his strong exterior, there was a soft heart that always sought to make you laugh.
“All set, now to bed.” Jude extended his hand to you, smiling in a way that made your heart race. “The movie awaits us, and I can’t let those pancakes get cold because of you.”
(...)
Later, you found yourself with a Jude, exhausted from watching two movies in a row, who nestled against you, and to both your surprise, fell asleep with his head on your chest. His massive body looked even more disproportionate resting against your small figure. You smiled as you watched him, feeling the warmth of his body and the tranquility of that moment.
But the scene became even more comical when, in an involuntary act, Jude lifted one of his legs and let it fall over your hip. The image was almost ridiculous: his enormous, rugged, strong figure completely at your feet, while he slept deeply, oblivious to what was happening.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” you murmured, laughing softly as you stroked his hair.
Your laughter intensified when you noticed Jude’s position highlighted his butt in a way that was almost too funny to ignore. “Damn, you have more butt than me…” you thought, enjoying the tenderness and the comedy of the moment.
You took out your phone, determined to capture the scene for posterity. “I can’t let this pass,” you told yourself as you adjusted to take a photo. The image of Jude, with his large, muscular leg draped over you, was too amusing to ignore.
Jude, in his sleep, shifted slightly, making his leg slide a bit more. You stifled a laugh, unable to resist the temptation to record a short video. The scene was too funny: your muscular boyfriend, the very image of masculinity, acting like the sweetest of boyfriends. “This should be the other way,” you said, laughing.
When Jude finally woke up because your chest was shaking with laughter, he realized the position he was in and blushed, although his expression was more of surprise than embarrassment. “What are you doing?” he asked, still groggy.
“Just capturing the moment for later; you look like a baby,” you joked, showing him the video on your phone.
“So you have proof of my most vulnerable moments, huh?” Jude said, his voice still sleepy but full of mischief.
“I only did it because you’re so cute when you sleep, don’t blame me,” you replied with a smile, trying to maintain your composure.
However, Jude's mind began to concoct a little revenge. While you were distracted looking at the videos and photos, he decided to take action. He stealthily approached and gave you a little shove. “Hey! How about I record your vulnerable moments too?” snatching the phone from your hands and starting to film you.
He began to tickle you in such a torturous way; perhaps they were two long minutes of wrestling and laughing. In an attempt to defend yourself, you lifted your leg to push him away, but what you didn’t expect was for your knee to directly impact Jude’s groin.
“OW!” Jude yelled, his face contorting in a mix of surprise and pain. He dropped to the floor, placing a hand on his groin, dramatically exaggerating the scene as if he had been struck by an opponent on the field. “This is a ruthless attack! Not only do you wake me up, but you also kick my ‘mini (not too mini) Jude.’”
You, unable to contain your laughter, crouched beside him while trying to ask if he was okay. “Are you alright, Jude? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t you know that hurts?” he said, grimacing dramatically while keeping his hand on his groin. “You could’ve made me sterile with that hit. I’m injured!”
You burst into laughter, enjoying his dramatics. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so exaggerated. You have no idea what real pain is. You’ve never experienced menstrual cramps.”
Jude frowned, lifting his head off the floor. “So menstrual pain is worse than being hit in a man’s most sacred place?”
“It’s a completely different experience, my love,” you replied, still laughing. “But just to be clear, I’m not letting you record my vulnerability ever again!”
“it huuuurt sooo much” he said dramatically.
At that moment, Jude seemed to have a mini dramatic performance like those footballers who exaggerate their falls to gain an advantage. Men are so weak and weird, really.
As the night went on, laughter and intimacy filled the room, creating a magical atmosphere where only the two of you existed. Jude, amidst jokes and gentle caresses, let himself be carried away by the joy of the moment. You, with a mischievous smile, decided it was the perfect time for a little skincare treatment.
With a mix of tenderness and fun, you settled into his lap and began to pull out your skincare products. Jude, for his part, made a face of disgust upon seeing the creams, refusing to use those “strange things” on his face. The idea of getting his eyebrows shaped seemed even more absurd to him, a kind of torture that made you laugh.
However, by the end of the day, he couldn’t resist. You looked at him with those sparkling eyes that melted away any resistance. Jude knew he was in the palm of your hand, and although he grumbled at first, he let you do it. As you applied the creams, your voice turned into a gentle murmur of affection, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. That mutual surrender was his love language, where care and fun intertwined in every gesture.
The room was filled with laughter and love, a reminder that in your world, every moment together was special. That night, the bed became your little refuge, a space where hugs, laughter, and gestures of affection intertwined, creating memories you would treasure forever.
#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham stories#spotify#jb5#jude bellingham#jude x fem reader#bellingham latest#jb5 x reader#jude bellingham fanfiction#bellingham x reader#jude victor willliam bellingham#jude bellingham fluff#fluff
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short oneshot inspired by a tweet i saw (please don’t kill me for being inactive im sorry im a very busy gal)
cabin fever. [A.I]
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🪵 Ashton x fem!reader
a late-night kitchen rendezvous on an annual trip with your friends.
a/n: i cannot find the tweet this was inspired by but it was something along the lines of ‘nobody makes out on the living room couch and dry humps like they used to’ so… just use your imagination with this one friends.
also WHO ELSE IS BUMPING STRAIGHT TO YOUR HEART CUZ I KNOW I AMMMMM
content warnings: none, really!
WORDCOUNT: ~3.1k
⋆⭒˚。⋆
Three AM. The prime time to chug a cold glass of water and stand in the kitchen to contemplate life.
It was day two of the annual ‘friend trip’. Eight twenty-somethings to a six-bedroom cabin with a plethora of tanning lotion and tequila. You had spent most, if not all, of today out by the lake— your shoulders were burnt to a crisp and your eyes felt tired and heavy. It was the price to pay for a gorgeous day out on the water.
Everyone had called it a night around midnight, the couples sifting off to their respective rooms while the solos duked it out for the only other queen sized bed. Luckily, you were the winner of that duel. But now, you’re faced with that unquenchable late-night thirst.
Plus the fact that you couldn’t sleep.
You crept down the old oak stairs quietly, your socks padding against the wood and creaking with every step. You’d wince every time your foot made a sound; but you were also convinced that everyone was too deep in sleep to hear it.
A lakeside cabin in the middle of nowhere was a lot more quiet than you’d anticipated. Only the cadence of chirping crickets and the occasional owl hoot could be heard for miles. It was honestly kind of creepy. You ignored those jarring sounds and continued your journey for that tall glass of water, hoping it would put your sleepy mind a bit more at ease.
Once you tipped some ice into your cup and filled it with water to the point where it was overflowing, you let your shoulders relax. You leaned with your back against the kitchen island and sighed, before taking the biggest swig of your life.
“Can’t sleep?”
A disembodied voice startles you, briefly making you choke on your water as you whip your head around to see who it was coming from.
“Fuck, Ash— scared me…” you mumble sheepishly, wiping a bit of water that had dripped down your chin.
“Sorry, sorry. I probably should’ve made myself known when I saw you coming down.”
Your eyebrow lifts as Ashton starts to approach the kitchen island where you were standing, “You’ve been down here the whole time?”
Ashton nods, stretching his arms up behind his head. “Yup. Been down here for like an hour now. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Mmm, same.”
An awkward, yet peaceful silence falls between you and Ashton as you continue to take large sips out of your cup. He eyes down the sweaty glass, passing it to look down at your sleep shirt and pajama shorts.
You cross your arms and stare at him with that same intrigue, scanning over his unbuttoned flannel and accompanying black sweats. His bare chest was exposed and slightly sunburnt, which mostly everybody had gotten brute of today while out by the lake.
“Since when did you listen to Guns N’ Roses?”
You scoff down at his mention of your old thrifted t-shirt, “Since you decided that not wearing sunscreen in 90 degree weather was a good idea.”
Ashton chuckles quietly, tousling his hair with his hand and mocking your crossed arms and posture.
“Touché.”
You laugh for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek contemplatively. It had to have been at least 3:30 by now. Getting sleep was definitely one of your top priorities, but Ashton seemed like he was awake for the long haul.
Sleep was imminent, although you didn’t really mind some alone time with him. Something about Ashton and your long-standing friendship left a little swirl in your stomach. You’ve always had the tiniest crush.
“Want some?” You break the silence by swirling your cup, ice clinking against the sides of the glass. He seemed tantalized by your offer, and took the glass without a word.
He raised it with grateful eyes before taking a sip, then finished it all in one gulp. Your jaw dropped slightly at how quickly it disappeared.
“Hey,” you whine, “I said some. Not the rest of it!”
“Oh c’mon, Y/N. We’ve got a tap with unlimited water and about six ice trays in the freezer. I could easily pour you another.”
You shake your head in mock distaste, and start to walk away from the kitchen into the living room area. “No thanks. I’m not thirsty anymore.”
Ashton chuckles from behind you not long before the tap starts running again.
“Suit yourself.”
Now that you were fully awake and alert after Ashton had scared the life out of you, you weren’t sure where to place your restless body. You figured that sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling may help you get that tired feeling back.
“I’m thinkin’ about staying up to watch the sunrise,” Ashton blurts, his voice growing closer to the couch.
“But, aren’t you tired? I’m fucking exhausted.”
“You woke up at 11 this morning. You got a lot more sleep than I did.”
Your eyebrows furrow as he continues to walk around the coffee table, looking as though he was about to sit himself down next to you on the cushion. “The sun makes me tired.”
“Everyone’s different, I guess.”
Ashton’s words felt backhanded, yet you didn’t have the energy in you to care. He sat himself down next to you with a fresh glass of water and now the only thing you could think about was how his flannel had fallen slightly off of his shoulder.
“You think you’re gonna sleep?” you ask.
“Nah. Probably not.” he replies.
“Cool. Me neither.” Your decision was final.
That silence from before carried over from the kitchen as Ashton took one long sip and finished his water in one sitting. Your eyes lulled closed, but it seemed that sleep was no longer an option.
“Wanna watch somethin’?” asks Ashton, voice raspy and quiet, as he leans forward to discard his glass onto the coffee table.
“Do we even get cable this deep in the woods?”
He laughs at your honest question, slinging his arm against the back of the couch and letting his hand rest behind your head.
Smooth move, Ash.
“Maybe not. But, I’m sure we could find something on demand. Probably some old black and white movie but, I actually kind of dig those.”
You can’t help but giggle and roll your eyes, nodding your head towards the remote as his smile mirrored yours.
“Put on whatever you find intriguing. But if I end up falling asleep, that’s nobody’s business but mine.”
In no time, Ashton had surfed through all movies dating back to the golden age of Hollywood, and eventually landed on A Streetcar Named Desire. You found the choice of such a dramatic movie to be odd for someone like Ashton. Then again, you only knew him so well.
“Have you seen this?” he asks you, settling back further into the couch and letting the cushion cradle his head.
You blow out a breath, trying to recall a time where you’d maybe seen Marlon Brando on your parent’s television yet failed to remember virtually anything about the plot.
“I think so—” your sentence is broken by a yawn, which brings Ash to snap his head away from the silver screen.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
“Psh, no. I’m staying up. That’s what I told you and I’m sticking to it.”
Ashton’s gaze flicked down your face, yet it was becoming harder to hold the eye contact as his illuminated features flickered beneath the television.
“Alright. Whatever you say.”
Silence passes as the movie begins, the titlecard rolling onscreen and earning another heavy yawn out of you. Your eyes felt heavy now, heavier than before.
Would falling asleep really be the worst?
Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment and as they fell, you could feel Ashton’s head tilt towards you. The hand that was beside your head on the back of the couch had slowly crept towards your hair.
Without any words exchanged, he begins to pet your head. Not in a strange way. But in a way that if he kept it up, you’d fall asleep and wake up in the morning with your body strewn across his lap.
“Feels nice…” you mumble lazily, your eyes still closed.
“Yeah?”
“Mmh, yeah.”
Dialogue began quietly funneling through the sound system and for some odd reason, you felt compelled to open your eyes. Ashton continued to stroke your hair, but when you expected to see him staring at the television, he was still just staring at you.
“What?”
“Hm?” he jumps slightly, as if caught in some way.
“You’re looking at me.”
He shrugs. It was the most he could do.
“Don’t know what’s happening to me, but— you look really fuckin’ pretty right now.”
Heat swells the apples of your cheeks at his compliment. He did that thing, the one where a man stares at you through his unbelievably long eyelashes and hopes you’d get the memo simply by their eyes.
“Could it be the glow of the silver screen?” you tease, trying to ease up on the ever present tension that Ashton had created out of nothing.
“Could be.”
Something was swirling inside of the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t put your finger on. It could have been how late it was, or the fact that repressed emotions and feelings were making an appearance after the person you’ve had a tiny crush on suddenly expressed interest in you. Ashton was a flirt, but never to this extent.
He was hard to read most of the time.
Instead of feeling out-of-body by the contact Ashton was providing, you decided to embrace his gentle touch and the way his hand softly ran across your head. He had eventually made his way to your shoulder, mindlessly toying with the neckline of your t-shirt as he watched the movie.
You bite your lip, looking down at that muted and worn flannel he was wearing. Then letting your eyes, and mind, wander off and wonder what it would be like to run your palms across his smooth chest. A shaky breath leaves your throat, and catches his attention.
“You alright?” he asks, genuine concern flitting across his face as he catches his hand wandering.
“Huh—? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
The eye contact lingers. The triangle method is now in play. Eyes, eyes, lips. Eyes, eyes, lips.
“Anything on your mind at the moment?” Ashton quizzes, his words lazy and muffled.
“Mmmh, no. Not in particular. You?” You try to bounce back but lying was never your strong suit.
“I’ve got a thing or two on my mind, yeah,” he trails off, looking at the tv as his fingers drum against the couch cushion behind you, “Not sure how you’re feeling.”
This odd conversation spinning around the room was making you dizzy. If he wanted anything from you, which seemed obvious by his incapability to focus on the movie, you wished he’d be more honest.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Ash.”
“Can I show you?”
Those viridian eyes were at it again. Eyes, eyes, lips. Eyes, eyes, lips. You were shocked at his ability to communicate with you without any words exchanged.
It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. Ashton maneuvered himself towards you delicately, as if you were made of porcelain and were to shatter at any given moment. Your back was suddenly flat against the couch and the speed in which it got there had you questioning reality.
Your lips attached and a collective sigh filled the room that was louder than any of the sounds encompassing this massive wooden fortress. Your hands tangled in Ashton’s hair as his flannel brushed against your sides and covered the both of you.
His broad palm cupped your face while he angled his knee between your legs, breathing deeply into the kiss and letting his tongue lead the way.
You could feel the warmth of his body engulfing you, something you’d never thought you’d feel in this lifetime. In your dreams, maybe, but it was just a stupid little crush. Maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch, and this was your subconscious mind taking over.
But when his hand traveled from your cheek and rested at the base of your neck, you quickly realized that you were not fucking dreaming.
“This okay?” he mumbles, the words knocking against your lips and his hips dip down to grind against your core. It seemed as though he was about as eager to do this as you were.
“Mhm. Fine. Yes.” you blubber, coherent sentences getting lost somewhere in the room and hypnotized by how sweet his lips tasted.
He dips back into the kiss and you could feel him smile against you. It took everything inside of your body to keep your moaning to a minimum, but God, you couldn’t help it.
“You’ve gotta be quiet, hon’,” he giggles into your mouth again, before popping up briefly to stare you down with big, kelly green eyes, “Don’t wanna wake anyone up.”
You nod. Of course. How stupid of you. The last thing you needed was a story to tell your best friends around the campfire while Ashton did the same in another room.
How stupid.
The kiss continues, as does the path of your hands. You let your curiosity kill whatever cat was around and run your hands down his bare chest. You didn’t think fantasizing about it would actually lead you here but hey, it had felt as good as you’d imagined.
A groan rumbles through Ashton’s throat while your fingertips drag down his flesh. His hips seemed to have a mind of their own, occasionally grinding against your core and threatening to pull louder noises from you.
The hand that Ashton was using to hold himself above you had dropped to an elbow, and he slowly began to trail feathery kisses down your jaw and towards your neck. Your eyes shot open, and you just sighed. He sure knew how to press all of your buttons, and he was damn’ good at it too.
“Ash, no marks. Please. Don’t— wanna— have to explain.”
“I know, I know. I’ll keep my markings to a minimum.”
You could feel a catty smirk crawl across your neck, so you playfully whack his shoulder.
“Ashton. I said, no.”
“But you know you want ‘em. C’mon. What’s the fun of a group vacation without a little drama?”
His sultry voice gave you whiplash. He was right; you really wanted those marks. Even if it was just a hickey or two. Surely you could come up with some sort of bluff that would save the both of you from an awkward breakfast conversation.
You’ll worry about that in the morning.
“Fine. But don’t go crazy. I’m not good at lying.”
Ashton chuckles, brushing a rogue lock of hair behind your ear. “Did you forget who you’re dealing with? I’ve got the best poker face in the country.”
You roll your eyes at him, silently dismissing him yet excited for what he had up his sleeve. He began to leave little bites across the side of your neck and down towards your collarbone, occasionally replacing teeth with delicate open mouth kisses and darting his tongue out to wet the surface.
“Mmmh, you’re sweet,” Ashton groans, his breath tickling your chest, “Didn’t know you tasted so good. I could eat you right now.”
Your eyes widen at his random pillowtalk and double entendre, a ping of electricity shooting up your spine, “What?”
“Nothin’.”
He hushes you quickly with his lips once more, the rhythm of his hips making you think that you were actually dreaming with how heavenly his rock hard dick felt pressing against you. But you didn’t want to go to any extremes.
You’d save those for that queen sized bed.
You didn’t realize that the soft whimpers and cries floating through the kiss were a little louder than what you thought they’d be, since Ashton had detached your lips to gaze at you scornfully and say only one word.
“Quiet.”
You nod, like a sad little puppy, and follow his instruction. You wanted to tell him how it felt too good to be quiet, but you didn’t want to cause any problems in which he’d need to carry you up to your bedroom and make you think about what you did.
God forbid.
As the two of you made out like you were the last two people on earth, Ashton’s hands wandered down towards the hem of your sleep shorts. You stop short, out of breath, and look at him with distaste.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Ashton,” you whisper, making a point to trail your words against his ear and leave a gentle kiss at his earlobe.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He then digs his hips down into your core again, you and Ashton moan in unison. The shock in your eyes at how loud the two of you sounded seemed to hit both of you at once. Frazzled faces morphed into smiles as he takes his hand and caresses your face.
“Y’know, maybe we should pick this back up another time.”
You groan indignantly, but couldn’t help agreeing with him.
“A time where we don’t have to be so quiet?”
He nods, turning it into a shrug, “Or maybe tomorrow. Either works.”
You bite your lip, still bewitched by the taste of his tongue and the slow movement of his hips. You didn’t want to give it up. But if there were promises of continuing this tomorrow, you couldn’t really complain.
“Should we just go to bed then?” you ask, running your palm down his chest again with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
“I’d prefer not to leave the couch.”
“Why not?”
“This seems like a perfectly good place to fall asleep. Plus, my bed upstairs wouldn’t have you already in it.”
Still unable to argue with such a forgiving face, you sigh dreamily. Falling asleep on the couch with Ashton seemed like a bad idea in theory but then again, he was already shifting around you to get comfortable.
Plus, you wouldn’t want to give up the warmth of his body after finally getting a semblance of what it felt like to be so close.
When you and Ashton eventually find a comfortable position, his body behind yours and spooning you with his arm tucked against your stomach and your head resting along his bicep, you let your tired eyes hold the reins.
Falling asleep to the sound of his gentle breathing and elevated heartbeat had turned into an entirely new favorite thing of yours. Whatever was in the air tonight, from grabbing a glass of water to watching an old classic movie, you weren’t sure you wanted it to end so soon.
Oh, who cares. You’ll deal with that in the morning, too.
#ashton irwin#5sos fanfic#ashton 5sos#ashton irwin fanfic#5 seconds of summer#ashton irwin smut#5sos#ashton irwin x reader#ashton#ashton irwin blurb#blurb
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Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW
Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.
Characters: Commander Mayday
Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader
Word Count: 11,256
Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship
Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.
New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.
The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.
As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.
Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.
“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.
“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.
“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.
“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.
“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.
Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.
As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.
“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.
There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.
“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.
As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?
“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.
“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.
Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.
“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.
“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.
“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.
Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.
Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.
Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.
Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.
“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.
“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.
From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.
While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.
And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.
But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.
Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.
“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.
From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.
“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.
Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.
“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.
“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.
As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.
A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.
“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.
It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.
“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.
Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.
“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.
Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.
“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”
Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.
As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.
He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.
“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.
“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.
Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.
“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.
“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.
Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.
Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”
Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.
“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.
“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.
“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?
“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.
“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.
“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.
“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.
Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.
“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.
“I have.”
“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.
There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.
“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.
“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.
“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.
His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment you recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.
“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.
“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.
Mayday growled out your name in warning.
“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.
“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.
Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.
“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.
“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.
“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.
“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.
“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.
The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.
Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.
You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.
It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.
Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.
Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.
“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.
“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.
“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.
“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.
“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.
“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.
“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.
“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.
“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.
“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.
“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, directing you out of the cargo hold.
Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.
As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.
Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.
Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.
“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?
The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.
There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attack the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.
Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.
“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.
“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.
Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.
“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.
“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.
Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in a room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.
“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.
He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.
“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.
“I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.
“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?
You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.
“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.
You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.
“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.
“Mayday!”
“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.
Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.
His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.
With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.
“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.
Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.
The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.
Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.
However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.
With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.
When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.
He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.
“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.
He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.
“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.
Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.
Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.
You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.
“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.
Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.
“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.
Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.
“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.
He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.
Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.
“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.
Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.
“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.
Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.
Freezing, he looked between himself and you.
“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.
“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.
Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.
Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.
Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your mound.
Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.
“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.
“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.
He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.
“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.
“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?
Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.
“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.
“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.
He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.
Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.
“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.
You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.
Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.
His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.
However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.
“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.
“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.
Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.
“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.
“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.
The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.
Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as he pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.
“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.
It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.
Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.
“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.
He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but he froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.
“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.
“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.
“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at his words.
Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.
The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.
“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.
Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.
He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.
“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.
“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.
Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. “Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.
You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.
Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.
As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.
“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.
Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.
“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.
Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.
As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the base of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.
“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.
Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.
Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.
“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.
“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.
“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”
As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.
“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.
“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.
“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.
Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.
Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.
Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.
The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.
Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.
As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.
“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.
“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering just at the thought.
“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.
Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.
Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.
“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into yours sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.
“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.
But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.
Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.
“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.
Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.
“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.
With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.
Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.
Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.
“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.
“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.
“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.
“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.
#commander mayday#commander mayday x reader#mayday tbb#star wars#the bad batch#star wars x reader#star wars tbb#tbb#star wars the bad batch#star wars tcw#the clone wars#clone wars#star wars the clone wars#clones#clone troopers#kinktober 2024
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bound 2 (falling in love)
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oneshot
word count: 6.5k
genre: fwb to lovers
pairing: yoongi x reader
summary:
You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.
warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol
a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D
also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3
—> m.list
—> welcome me on ao3 & twt
—-
It happened again.
Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.
The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier.
And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall.
What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.
Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless.
It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do.
“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss.
“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?”
Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love.
“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you?
“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life.
“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?
The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes.
Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment.
yoon: you up?
And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call.
me: yeah
Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it.
He won't.
yoon: you ok?
me: been better
yoon: wanna talk about it?
me: no, i'm ok
yoon: ok, wanna come over?
Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.
And you are not his.
me: not feeling well. sorry.
yoon: sick?
A white lie never hurt anyone.
me: yeah, throat hurts
yoon: im sorry
me: it's not your fault maybe another time.
Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.
He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings.
You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy.
The flirting turned to one thing, then another.
“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.
“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth.
“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.
Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”
You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.”
Yoongi just laughed.
“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?”
You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.
From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much.
Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want.
That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much.
Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.
The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch.
Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t.
“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door.
Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?”
Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined.
He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries?
“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table.
“What are you even doing here?” You ask again.
He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?”
Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides.
You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.”
“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area.
If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.
“Anyways, w-what brings you here?”
“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside.
“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.
“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.
Oh.
This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.
“I-“
He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.”
He did research? Double fuck!
Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time.
“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief.
“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought?
“Why.” Is all you manage to ask.
“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question.
What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.
Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.
“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too.
“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well.
Why not you? It’s always going to be you.
“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break.
Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.
His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.
His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.
You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.
“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.
“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.
Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.
The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.
His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you.
If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.
Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand.
The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.”
Kiss.
“For?”
Kiss.
Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”
Kiss.
“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.”
“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all.
“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch.
“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you.
The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”
“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all.
“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.”
Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different.
In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath.
“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”
“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”
“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks.
“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.
“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”
“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble.
“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty.
“I-I don’t know.”
You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel.
Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop.
Not when you start whining against his lips.
Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch.
It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button.
Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?”
You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses.
He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”
His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”
Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.”
And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation.
By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too.
He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more.
Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?”
There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you.
“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too.
This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi.
“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.
“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot.
“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds.
“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower.
“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles.
“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey.
“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.
“Make love to me, Yoongi.”
There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you.
It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t.
Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser.
And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by.
There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”
Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls.
You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”
“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him.
You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity.
“No?”
“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”
“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.
“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.”
Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him.
He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.
“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.”
Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.”
With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks.
“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn��t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.”
“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions.
Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”
You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”
Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him.
“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out.
He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”
“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”
“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”
With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created.
He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man.
Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can.
While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.
After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly.
“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night.
…
“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him.
“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.
“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”
When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this.
You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”
Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”
“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing.
“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self.
Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?”
“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.”
That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace.
“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep.
“You can.”
Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”
“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”
“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.”
“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream.
“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged.
You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup.
“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.”
Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed.
“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm.
“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”
For letting me love you and for loving me back.
The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal.
It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all.
You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love.
Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.
#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#bts fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts fluff#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#bts smut
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08:02 p.m.
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note: was being so delusional after mark came onto bubble & then did an instagram live to spend mark o'clock with us, and after declaring that he misses us and wants us to know AAAAAAKKK he's so crazy for that!!!! this man has me soooo delusional. so i thought of this little something because he looks so gorgeous today and i've been really busy these few weeks due to submissions~~ hope yall enjoy <3
(not proofread, i wrote this impulsively in less than an hour)
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mark: are we still meeting to study at the cafe after your lecture tmr? y/n: yes! my lecture ends at 730~ mark: alright, i’ll wait for you so we can walk to the cafe tgt? y/n: okayy sounds good
That was the texts you had with Mark last night. And as promised, once your lecture was done, Mark was already outside your lecture hall waiting for you.
To be very honest, the two of you haven’t been friends for very long, having only met through a writing class last semester. But two weeks ago, you bumped into Mark at this newly opened 24-hour cafe just off campus.
It’s crunch time now that finals are around the corner so the library is always packed. And the corner seat you love so much on the third floor is always occupied by this one freshman and his group of friends. So you were hoping this cafe was new and quiet enough to be your place to study for this time of the semester.
When you got there, you found Mark, nose deep in his lecture notes studying with his wired earphones plugged in. You decided to greet him merely out of being polite, since you haven’t seen him around recently. But Mark seemed excited to see you and even invited you to study with him.
So here you two are again, routinely studying your Tuesday (and Friday) nights away together since that fateful day two weeks ago.
Well, at least Mark is studying.
To be fair, you’ve always found Mark cute. Since he asked if he could share your table in class last semester, you took note of how attractive your classmate is. His round, starry eyes and high cheekbones. His sweet smile that appears oh, so often. Better yet, he has one of the cutest and most contagious laughters you’ve ever heard. But you never took it as anything too serious. Mark has always been cute, but you didn’t really know the guy outside of class.
These two weeks however, have made you acutely aware of how wonderful Mark really is as a person. He was diligent and intelligent, yet so humble about it all, refusing to slack just because he’s already getting good grades. Mark is attentive, if he notices you struggling, he takes the initiative to ask if you need help. And doesn’t mock you or make you feel small for not understanding something.
He’s also just really sweet. You firmly believe Mark could befriend anyone and everyone. There’s just something about him that makes those around him feel comfortable. Like, you don’t have to put up a front when you’re with Mark because he won’t judge you. Instead he embraces all of you and is genuinely interested in everything you say, even if he has differing opinions.
Being around Mark is easy. And the longer you stare at him, the more you realise that Mark isn’t just cute. He’s gorgeous.
And you hate to admit it to yourself, but you’re definitely falling for Mark Lee.
“Hello? Earth to y/n…?”
You can only bring yourself to blink back at Mark, who’s waving his hand in front of your face. Have you been staring at him all this time?
“Oh, I’m sorry… were you saying something?”
Mark chuckles, shaking his head. He looks down almost shyly, then lifts his head up to look at you again.
“You’ve just been staring at me for a while, I was starting to wonder if I had something on my face.”
You want the ground to swallow you up. To be honest, you have not been getting any revision done tonight because the only real studying you’ve been doing is of Mark’s pretty face. And it’s embarrassing because he caught you.
You can’t help but feel the embarrassment creep up on you, feeling the blood rush to your head. You cover your face with your hands and all Mark does is let out a quiet laugh. He really isn’t laughing at you though, he simply thinks you’re really endearing.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to stare.” You pause, thinking of an excuse as you lift your head, “The lecture really butchered my brain, I was just daydreaming for a bit.”
“It’s okay, you just seemed so happily deep in thought. It was kinda cute,” Mark says, so casually as he returns his attention back to his notes, you almost miss his subtle compliment at the end. Did he just call you cute?
He looks up at you again, smiling sweetly. “We don’t have to stay too late tonight if you’re tired.”
You shake your head, “It’s fine, I’m good now.”
You really are not, because your heart is thumping so loudly against your chest over a simple smile from Mark. And your mind doesn’t focus on anything that isn’t Mark. But if you pretend well enough, if you control your urge to just stare at Mark for way too long… maybe you’ll get to spend a few more hours alone with Mark right here in this cosy, quiet cafe.
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Yandere ! Loser x Bully ! Reader Headcanons
Yandere ! Loser is Male and Bully ! Reader is Gender Neutral
Omg???? After my last two posts I’ve gained over 40 followers???
Welcome and I hope you enjoy Yandere ! Loser!!
Also thought I’d let people know before they started reading that Reader is gender neutral since I saw a few posts about it :3
Find my Masterlist here !
Please enjoy<33
❥ Yandere ! Loser who is first noticed by Bully ! Reader.
❥Yandere ! Loser who comes to the conclusion that Bully ! Reader has a thing for the cute quiet type and has developed a crush on him.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who in return for your perceived crush, becomes obsessed tenfold. He must show that your feelings are not unrequited, after all!
❥ Yandere ! Loser who had spent the majority of his life being alienated from his peers and overlooked by everyone despite his hard earned grades and now practically bathes in your attention (in comparison, at least).
❥ Yandere ! Loser who finds it hard to conceal his excitement when you’re rough with him; shoving him back, grabbing the collar of his shirt, kicking him, slapping him! It just feels too good… And don’t get him started on your degrading words, he might just break!
❥ Yandere ! Loser who feels his knees become weak, back shivering and a heat lighting in their lower stomach when you shove, pin or cage him against a wall or locker in an attempt to intimidate him. Your face being so close to his, allowing him to breathe the same air as you, nothing about the position is helping him retain himself. In fact, he suspects he may even drool sometimes when your threats are especially descriptive. He’s just so pathetic and desperate for you!!
❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves spending hours upon hours worshipping every blessing (read: injury or bruise) you generously bestow upon him, taking pictures with his polaroid camera and noting on the back where and when and most importantly how he received each one.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves visiting your home at night with his camera in hand, capturing you at your most peaceful - a state they would never see at school - and watching you wind down and relax after a school day. Every photo is plastered upon his bedroom walls, his favourite ones being closest to his bed. Sometimes he’s treated to a show late at night when you think no one else is around and all Yandere ! Loser can do is take pictures and drool into the hand covering his mouth. Those photos go in a special box under his bed.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who loves stalking your social media, making fake accounts to scroll and comment and know all your connections; your family, friends, potential admirers and those you admire. Along with downloading and printing any photos of you for his walls, stalking where you’ve been and where you’re going.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who constantly daydreams all about you, everything about you. Drooling over his fantasies of how life’ll go once the two of you graduate and are together forever without any classmates, teachers or parents to get in the way.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who gets jealous when you touch anyone but him, are mean to anyone but him, talk to anyone but him, look at anyone but him. What right do they have to your attention? No one but him deserves your affections.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who despite his scrawny, weak appearance, is rather cunning and knows how to fight dirty. He catches whoever attempted to steal you away from him by surprise and swiftly cut their throat, ridding the world of them quickly.
❥ Yandere ! Loser who sighs dreamily at the sight of you putting another bully in their place for trying to take your Loser. Right in the middle of him completing one of the many tasks you give him, too. They’ll be dead by midnight but he can gleefully enjoy your violence in peace for now, with a perfect view too. You might as well make your relationship with him official at this point as you’ve made it clear he’s off limits to everyone else!
❥ Yandere ! Loser who believes it to be clear to everyone around that he is yours and you are his. And he’s right, many have noticed the strange interactions between the two of you and have all collectively agreed not to get involved. Even if you aren’t fully aware, he’ll fix that soon enough…
#cw yandere#yandere#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere! loser#yandere! loser x bully! reader#yandere! loser x reader#yandere loser#high school setting#yandere loser x bully reader#yandere loser x reader#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x oblivious reader#oblivious reader#yandere x gn reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#yandere x reader headcanons#yandere headcanons#yandere hcs#yandere drabble#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere writing#screeblees writing#5
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