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tinystarbites · 4 months ago

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accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate�� I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

#tinywrites #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #tinywrites:accidents #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader

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jimilter · 3 months ago

Text

the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself.

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note: helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns.

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?"

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO.

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so.

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours.

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips?

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale.

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with.

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs.

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well.

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x you #w: tfg #*mine: fic

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kookinglikeachef · 1 month ago

Note

SKZ members who are most likely and least likely to be loud while getting it on with the members still home.

Loudest: Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin?

Quietest: Seungmin

kookinglikeachef: Thank you for the first SKZ request. And pls, there is not a quiet member in that group lmao

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MOST

Han

This mf is loud af. Okay. I’m talking sobs, cries, yelping, laughter, whimpering, yes…yes…and more yeses! He does not understand why he should have to be quiet and definitely does not care how embarrassing his sounds are, he’s letting everybody know how good you make him feel, even you when you’re literally the one riding him. If he feels like you didn’t hear him enough the first time, get ready to hear him again.

Changbin

Mans is shamelessly loud even when he knows he shouldn’t be. Just simply cannot stfu. And he especially wants—no—needs you to be loud when he’s going down on you. As he’s literally trying to devour you, he adds a finger and your moans can be heard faintly through the walls. But how many can he add until anyone within a five mile radius can hear you? He adds two and, I mean, what more does he want? You’re crying, begging at this point because you can’t take anymore. Three fingers? Cops at the door. Angry members.

Lee Know

Minho’s selective about when to be quiet but when he’s LOUD ohmygod. If he sees you holding back he becomes annoyed. Makes that ‘tch’ sound of disapproval and his movements become rougher, quicker. Oh, you’re covering your mouth now? Removes your hand and pins both hands down above your head. Think he’s about to let you bite your lip?! Nope. He’s opening your mouth with his own so you’re both making it sang in that bedroom.

Hyunjin

Would be more focused on making you moan louder than he was but when he does, he’s throwing his head back, swallowing hard and unable to contain his excitement (especially when being a sub). A complete mess under your touch, raspily begging for more. Would only moan your name, though. Actually he shouts your name. Like full government. Not only does the members know, now the neighbors do.

Bang Chan

Chan is moderately considerate when it comes to making love to you while the members are still home. CHRISTOPHER, HOWEVER, does not give a flying mother fuck. If it’s been a long day and 7/kids have been stressing him out, they’d better have noise canceling headphones or get ready to sleep at the studio because they are no longer his concern once he’s on top of you. Becomes rabid in bed. The only things loud are your moans screams and his headboard banging a hole through the wall. And sorry honey, cry all you want, he gets to be selfish this time. You know your safe word.

Felix

SO. SO. SO DEEP. Growling, grunting, moaning. Your lungs burning with lack of oxygen from his hard thrusts, turning your moans light and airy. He tries to muffle his sounds against your neck but everyone can clearly hear what sounds like a lion mauling a fairy. Hot right?

Jeongin

Fox is just another way to spell freak. Don’t think too much about it. Seriously. Now look, he doesn’t like to be loud that much but when he can’t help it, he’s groaning/whining. Full on guttural moans maxed volume because this is the best fuck of his life. Does not care if the other members hear. They’re flipping through newspapers like nothings going on, anyway.

Seungmin

Is definitely loud but can control his volume to a certain extent. Mostly curses in his moans like the best damn sailor in the ‘pussea’. Omg, that was cringe but you get it. It’s when he gets close to coming, borderline heavenly, he’s upstaging you. The members just assume you guys are singing karaoke.

LEAST

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids requests #stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #stray kids mlt #skz #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee know #stray kids changbin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids felix #stray kids seungmin #stray kids i.n #18+ mdni #kookinglikeachef

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4unnyr0se · 6 months ago

Text

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - tobio kageyama

warnings: timeskip! kageyama, fem! reader, sub-leaning switch, mentions of thighs and breasts, slight degrading, nursing(?) kink, hickeys, cowgirl position

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 990

a/n: sooo sorry for not writing for a while lmao, enjoy! sorry if he's ooc too :(

SFW

❥ This poor boy doesn’t know how to communicate his feelings properly. It was a lot of guesswork when you first started dating because Tobio was so hopelessly awkward and embarrassed around you. Was he scared he would mess up? Absolutely. He’s scared of pretty girls.

❥ Will not shut up about volleyball when he’s around you like at all. He talks and talks about his sets, and it’s so adorable, but sometimes you just have to shut him up with a kiss because once he gets started, it’s impossible for him to stop.

❥ Speaking of kisses, he nearly died when you kissed him for the first time. It was only a soft peck on the lips, but his face got so red you thought he was going to pass out. All he mumbled was a “thanks” before standing up and shuffling to the kitchen to get a huge glass of water.

❥ Jealous. Tobio is incredibly jealous, especially when you talk with his Alders teammates. When you visit him after his practices or games, his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist as his thumb massages it. He isn’t big on PDA, so that’s the closest he’ll ever get to it. Luckily for him, Ushijima is clueless, and Hoshiumi just wants to run around and spike the balls. But does Tobio know that? No.

❥ Constantly worries for you more than he worries for himself. Although he’s taken several volleyballs to the face in his career, he’s always worried about you. If you stubbed your toe on a table, you would never see that table again because he’s putting it out on the curb to be picked up by the trash company. And you aren’t allowed to be in the nosebleeds when you attend his games because what if you’re a victim of a shitty serve?

❥ Follows the sidewalk rule. That’s it.

❥ Will happily pay for anything you want because he has no concept of money. So what if it’s expensive? If you want it, he’s buying it. He can worry about the gas bill later.

❥ Is always the big spoon when you cuddle, no matter what. It makes him feel better when you’re wrapped in his strong arms at night, protecting you from any monsters. Plus, he’s addicted to kissing your shoulders. He just thinks they’re so cute.

❥ His older sister, Miwa, is obsessed with you and is always texting you to hang out at bars or to look at the latest release of makeup products with her.

N$FW

❥ Submissive-leaning switch. He loves when you climb on top of him and ride him, but he’ll top if he really feels like it, or if you piss him off.

❥ Use. Him. Nothing gets him off more than his body being a vessel for your pleasure. Sit on his face, and ride his cock until he can’t cum anymore. He doesn’t care. He wants to be used.

❥ So fucking vocal during sex that you’ve gotten noise complaints. You have to cover his mouth when you’re on top because this motherfucker is so loud when he cums.

❥ Thigh guy. This man loves your thighs. Please, please squeeze his face when he’s eating your pussy and he could die happy. Wrap your legs around his waist when you’re making out and it will drive him wild. Let him leave hickeys on your inner thighs because it’ll be your dirty little secret.

❥ Cowgirl is his favorite position because it makes him feel like he’s not in control. While he loves to be in control on the court, he doesn’t want to be able to think when in the bedroom. All he wants to feel is absolute euphoria when you take control and fuck him. Plus, the sight of your tits bouncing in his face is a bonus.

❥ Isn’t that experimental in the bedroom, even if you want to try something new. He likes what he likes and that’s that. Sure, it may be extremely vanilla but if it works, it works.

❥ A god with his fingers. It’s no secret that setters must be highly skilled with their hands, and Tobio is no exception. His setting skills translate incredibly well in the bedroom. He knows where the clit is and has his thumb rubbing small circles on it as his middle and ring finger curl so perfectly inside of you that it makes you see stars.

❥ Praise him after he cums and he’s ready for round two within seconds. Tobio thrives off of praise and will do anything to get more of it. He’ll happily eat you out for hours on end as long as you call him a good boy.

❥ Loves sucking on titties, no matter the size. Boobs are boobs.

❥ Not that great at aftercare but he does get you a glass of water.

❥ “Holy fuck, you feel so good. Yeah, fucking ride me. Yeah.”

❥ “I’ll be so good for you baby, please let me cum again. I’ll be your good boy.”

❥ “You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, yeah? Fucking cum on them again, dirty girl. Maybe then I’ll fuck you with my cock like you’ve been begging me to.”

❥ “I wanna suck on your pretty tits, please baby? Wanna suck on your tits while you bounce on my cock, don’t I deserve it? I’ve been so good.”

❥ “Use me, sit on my face and use me! Oh, fuck, just like that baby. Yeah, use me, milk me dry. I’m yours to use.”

❥ “You thought walking around in those tights all day was a good idea, babe? That’s cute. Get on the bed and spread those slutty little legs so I can mark you like the good little slut you are.”

❥ “P-please, I can’t cum anymore! No, no, stop! Oh, oh fuck yes.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama smut #tobio kageyama x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

Text

Lay All Your Love On Me

Zayne x gn!Reader & Sylus

Written for a challenge by @jinwoosbabyboo

The prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react

I wrote this at like 2am cuz I got so inspired and then I promptly passed out lmao

Title from "Lay All Your Love On Me" by ABBA

Warnings: fluff, silly, jealousy, drunkenness, Sylus being a little shit

Word Count: 1,390

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus grabs your shoulder, steering you back onto the sidewalk and away from the window displays. You’d been adamant on walking this way, even though your apartment is in the direct opposite direction. When asked why, repeatedly, all you did was giggle and say it was a secret. He can’t tell if that mischief stems from who you are as a person or the alcohol warming your blood.

“Come on, sweetie. We should be getting you back home.” He plants his feet, tugging on your arm to try coaxing you back the way you came.

You whine. You stumble over your feet trying to get free from his hold. “Nooo~ We need to keep going this way!”

He sighs. The amusement he found in your inebriation faded about a block ago. “If you’d tell me why we need to keep going this way, it would help me figure out what you want so badly.” You trip into him. He huffs as he catches you, holding you in a loose hug until your head stops spinning. “Feel like talking, kitten?”

“Hmm…” You let your arms go limp by your sides and drop your forehead to rest against his chest. Closing your eyes isn’t really helping, but neither is staring at your feet. Still, your feet are far more interesting to look at right now as you try playfully stepping on his toes. “I just- He’s gotta be this way! Cuz he said he was gonna go to the bakery after work, but I forgot! And- urgh, Tara dragged me out ‘n then I remembered!”

“Who are you talking about, kitten?”

You sigh heavily. You lift your head to look at him, chin pressing painfully against him. He doesn’t react more than quirking a brow at you. “This really cute guy I like,” you admit. Seemingly out of nowhere, tears start to pool in your eyes.

Sylus is starting to regret answering the desperate call Tara made to him, begging him to take you home. He can understand her desperation now.

“He- He’s taken, though! I like him so much, Sy! But he’s not single anymore!” You hiccup pathetically, face crumpling with emotion. “And he’s so, so pretty, and I- I wanna kiss him soooo bad, Sy. What ‘m I supposed to do?”

He pats your back awkwardly, scanning the stores down the way. “Look, the bakery is right there. Why don’t we sit down and wait for him, hm?”

You sniffle, wiping at your eyes with your wrist. “Okay…”

You follow along like a pouting child, holding his hand as he walks you the rest of the way to your destination. Outside of the display window, dense with cakes and other sweet treats, haloed by the orange light from within, is a wooden bench, blessedly unoccupied. Sylus sits you down first, ensuring you’re not gonna run off and cause trouble. He sits at the other end, his elbow resting atop the bench as he props his head up. He nods to you, resigned to his fate. “Tell me about him.”

You perk up, wet eyes lighting up as you wiggle giddily in your seat. “Oh, he’s so cute, Sy! He’s like, really tall and he wears cute sweaters sometimes. And! And his eyes are like-” You mimic starburst explosions coming from your eyes. “You know?”

“I can’t say I do.”

Ignoring him, you keep rambling. “His hair is soooo soft, too. I don’t know how he does it, cuz he doesn’t do anything to his hair, but it’s just- it falls so perfectly. ‘N it smells really good, too. I’m so jealous. I wish my hair was that perfect.” You pout, fussing with your hair. It doesn’t help that you can’t see it, but you certainly try. In the end, you’ve created the perfect mess on your head.

The door to the bakery jingles as it opens. A customer takes two steps outside before stopping. “Y/N?”

You look up, eyes glazed over, blinking dumbly. Slowly, your eyes focus in on him, like you’re just waking up from a dream. You gasp and rush to your feet. You fall into him more than you purposefully hug him, but he wraps his free arm around you all the same.

You turn toward Sylus, still lounging on the bench. “Sy, this is the guy I was telling you about! Look at his hair!”

Zayne easily deflects your clumsy attempt to mess with his hair. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m just a friend. You can call me Skye. You must be their boyfriend.”

“Wait!” You stare up at Zayne with wide eyes. “You’re taken by ME?!”

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Too much,” Sylus answers for you. He stands up, thumbs tucked casually into his front pockets. “They were crying on the way here about you being ‘taken.’ I trust that I can leave them in your capable hands?”

Zayne looks the man up and down. He doesn’t recognize him among the countless stories of friends you’ve told him about before. Something about him sets Zayne on edge, but he just nods stiffly, lips pursed. “Thank you for escorting them here,” he says, but it lacks the warmth of true gratitude.

Sylus smirks as he nods in return. You turn to wave at the tall man. “Goodnight, Sy! Say hello to Mephie for me, m’kay?”

“Of course, sweetie. Good luck sleeping off your hangover.”

With that, he turns and heads back down the street. Zayne watches him leave, arm tightening around you. Something stirs within him uncomfortably: the unmistakable twist of jealousy. It calculates every small glance, touch, glimmer of anything where there’s nothing, tossing it into a burning fire in his system. But now is not the time to address it.

“Hold this,” he says, with all the patience of a doctor dealing with a crying three-year-old.

You take the bag of treats from him without hesitation. “Oooh, what’d’ya get?”

Before you can peek in, your feet are being pulled out from under you as Zayne lifts you into his arms. You hold the bag in your lap with one hand. The other wraps around his neck to keep you secure. “The bakery had some seasonal desserts to try, so I got some of each. If we don’t like them, I also bought a couple of our usual favorites.”

The bakery is close to the hospital where he left his car parked. People give him odd looks as he passes by, but he’s more focused on the intense look you’re giving him. Intense not for any strong emotion behind it, but because of the unyielding way you stare at his face.

“What’s on your mind?”

You sigh dreamily. “Can’t believe I get to date you,” you hum. You groan quietly, pouting at him. “I wanna kiss you, but I know you don’t like that in public. Can I kiss you when we get back home?”

His lips quirk into a small smile. “You can kiss my cheek tonight,” he says, voice low, private. “Tomorrow, when you’re feeling better, you can kiss me properly.”

“I’m not gonna be able to survive until tomorrow!” you whine dramatically. “Just one small kiss? Pretty please? Pretty, pretty please with sugar on top?”

That stirring emotion in his gut is rapidly settled with your pleas. He sets you carefully back on your feet beside his car. The parking lot is empty, and almost every window in the hospital is dark or dim. You hold onto his arm with your free hand, preventing him from grabbing his keys until he answers.

He sighs softly, amused. Your face is so beautiful in this light. “Okay,” he agrees. “One small kiss.”

The way your face lights up is blinding. You dance awkwardly on your feet in your excitement, letting go of him as you try getting into the still locked car. “C’mon, c’mon! I got the prettiest man in the whole world to kiss!”

What did he have to be jealous about when he was the one taking you home? The one being pulled into kisses by you over and over again while he tries to get you ready for bed? The one you wake up to, groaning and wishing for death after drinking too much the night before? He doesn’t have anything to worry about at all.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi

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roxanne193018 · 28 days ago

Text

A part 3 of Lucifer’s implied (?) yandere stuffs ( i guess it’s not so implied anymore)

⚠️

Warning: spoilers Christmas event story and Lucifer (blow)

Here he is, yapping about his brothers again (not that I complain tho)

This dude. Everyone says he talks very little that Paradise Lost gang even blushed at his words every time he speaks bc apparently he rarely speaks. But bro is a YAPPER. A huge YAPPER when it comes to MC. (Like how most of us just yap all things to our love) from background conversations, to chats, to stories, if one sentence was enough to make the PL gang blush, then with the amount he says to MC, PL gang would orgasm till they faint.

Also, when MC said “oh, you are busy, why bother texting me?” He was like

“??Bc I’m a doctor, and I often check up on my patients,

But also bc I like you.

Gamigin almost form lifelong friendship with his patients! We doctors are dedicated…I am not that dedicated tho,

But I also have to check on you bc you are important to me.

I can ask everyone instead to know if you’re ill or not,

But I want to ask you directly tho.

Everyone is interested in you, ao I can ask everyone about you

But I’m also interested in you”

… very roundabout way of saying I am literally loving you, and you are important to me, and why are you pretending not to see it? Conflicting ahh birb

… notice him guys.

In the story, he actually keeps his “doctor profession”, by not touching his patient, (believe it or not). He wants to lick MC’s tears so bad, wants to be nice to her, wants to cherish it as lovers’ s*xy time and not a type of treatment, but he couldn’t bc everything he did then was to cure MC. So, he refrained himself from licking MC’s tears and kissing MC’s face. Meh, weird way for a doctors’ safe distance from patient, but that’ll do ig…

Again, he losts it at every card when MC said she likes doing this with him. Their relationship, feels kinda like situasionship smh haha. Both kept their cools, but loses their shjt when the other do lovers’ things to them.

He caters to MC’s liking to cure her, but in the end, he himself can’t keep his words of “not touching the patient”, and still kisses MC. As MC no longer has Christmas cold, she still clings to Lucifer for sexy time lol, bc it’s rare to spend time with him, and he knows, he thinks the same and doesn’t do allat doctor patient game anymo, just lovers’ stuffs from then on lmao.

Shows how MC makes him always loses his shjt, and he admits it fr 🤣

And finally, I still save the best for last.

So for context: he is texting MC to ask like “what type of magical possay you got, that this toy still have your love liquid on it after DAYS?”

… well look at that, you hypocrite lil shjt. I remember SOMEONE told Belphegor that him keeping the blanket that him and MC rolled on is unhygienic. And now you kept that toy UNWASHED on your office table for days, in the room that bans everyone from entering. If he washed it, he wouldn’t ask MC why it was still wet bc it would be cleanly dried long ago.

“At first, it vibrated with your smell” okay.. you kept that thing to occasionally sniff MC out? On God… like I said. He might be crazy like Asmo.

Next, he was FURIOUS, when he noticed that the candy cane reeks of other devils’ smells. (Apparently the Paradise Lost gang has used that to m*st*rb*t* lol) bc 1, he places it privately in his own office, a place no one dares to enter, and now they are doing IT in his no no office zone, and 2, it no longer entirely smells like MC, so he just decides to lock the entire PL gang up to punish 🤣🤣 and won’t let MC meet them for a good while. (Jealous boi)

Another thing I am wondering is that, it is canon that he gets hard every time he bumps into/ remembers/ sees MC (MC-sexual lol). The inclusion of the MC smelled candy cane in his office? Yeah… it will DEFINITELY make that man go absolute FERAL.

I realized how I over analyzing everything when it comes to Luci lmao. Probably mostly bc he has IMPLIED shjjj compared to Leviathan, who just literally smacks the heck outta MC if she makes him jealous, much easier to see.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer

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colonelarr0w · 9 months ago

Note

Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused. Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

A/N - Ooh, you know I love me some angst. And considering that it's actually prom season right now, this makes this fic that much more personal to me (I don't have a date LMAO).

The Other Woman

Preview - "The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway? Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word."

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, mention of violence (Sukuna will be Sukuna)

Word Count - 4.3k

It was April now.

The season where girls compared prom dresses and guys anxiously put together their extravagant plans to ask the girl of their dreams to prom. It was the season that also revealed who was romantically interested in who — the couples that were thought to have been endgame break up juust before prom season, and if luck was truly a real thing, two people that nobody thought were romantically interested in the other were suddenly sucking face in the hallway.

And even though you had been saying since the beginning of the school year that you likely were not going to attend prom …

… you found yourself standing in a dress shop with Nobara and Maki, both of whom were dressing you in flashy colors and, quite frankly, expensive dresses.

“You’re kidding! Of course you’re going to prom, we’re not going without you,” Nobara comments, her tone offended as if you had told her that her shirt didn’t match her pants. Maki crosses her arms over her chest, agreeing wholeheartedly with the brunette at her side.

“Come on Nobara, it’s not like it’s gonna be worth it. You both have dates,” you point out, taking a sip from your water bottle and sending both of your friends knowing looks.

“And? You can go with Yuuji, you’ve both been conjoined at the hip since grade school,” Maki retaliates with a raise of her eyebrow. Nobara nods in agreement.

“First of all, I’m not taking my guy best friend to prom. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea,” you begin, holding up your hand and using your fingers as an imaginary list. “And second, I kind of want someone to ask me that is … y’know … romantically interested in me.”

Nobara claps her hands together as the curtain of your dressing room is yanked to the side, her smile widening impossibly further as she silently commands you to spin. You comply, turning in a circle in the royal blue dress that she had forced you into.

“I don’t know,” you say for the umpteenth time. Nobara deflates in her seat, turning her head to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something to convince you. But the green-haired girl doesn’t say anything, because in a way she understands.

“Come on (Y/N). Help us out here,” Nobara all but begs you, standing from her chair and walking over to you. She turns you in the direction of the full-body mirror in front of you, her hands affectionately squeezing her shoulders. “What color do you want to wear? Let’s start there.”

“I don’t even want to go Nobara,” you retaliate, meeting her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. She sighs again, dramatically letting go of you and sulking once she returns to her seat.

Maki rolls her eyes, finally walking over to you and glancing at you through the mirror. “Here, instead of color, who do you want to go to prom with?”

You freeze, already feeling your cheeks heat as your eyes flicker to momentarily meet Maki’s in the reflection.

“D’you think Sukuna is actually going to prom?” you ask Yuuji, stealing a chip from the bag that he holds and grinning to yourself as he silently shifts to ensure that you won’t steal another. He lifts his legs, crossing his ankles over one another as he hums in thought.

“I think he might’ve mentioned it. But you know him,” Yuuji pauses to eat another chip, “he’s not really one for those kinds of parties, y’know?”

You nod, but at the same time you can feel your heart sinking. Was it really a secret that you had a crush on the older brother of your childhood best friend? Honestly … no. But everyone but Sukuna knew (obviously), and yet nobody had really tried anything to help push you together.

Maybe that was because of his reputation, or maybe it was because your friends were trying to “protect” you from someone that you really didn’t need to be shielded from.

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Yuuji turns to you, crumpling up the now empty chip bag and tossing it into the garbage bin just a few feet in front of the two of you. “I think he mentioned asking Uruame to prom.”

You fall silent, nodding your head. “Mm … right.”

“I don’t know,” you answer again, shrugging your shoulders and already moving back towards the dressing room. You rip open the curtain, stepping inside and sighing. You lift your hands, rubbing them over your face as Yuuji’s words replay like a broken record in your head.

The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway?

Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word.

You glance upward at the small mirror in the dressing room, already reaching behind you to unzip the dress. You step out of it, returning it to its hanger before emerging again from the dressing room. Nobara and Maki glance up at you, having expected you to be wearing another dress.

“I think I’m done for today, if anything, I’ll just wear an old dress,” you say nonchalantly, trying to hide the waver that had started to creep into your tone. Maki nods understandingly, but Nobara rises to her feet and promptly places both hands on her hips.

“(Y/N),” she says sternly, stomping over to you and grabbing both of your hands into her own. “We are going to find you a perfect fucking dress, you are going to have a perfect fucking time at prom, and we are going to all go together because fuck men.”

Maki sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "Nobara-" she begins, but her words are quickly cut off by a dismissive wave of Nobara's hand.

"Now come on," Nobara places her palms flat against the backs of your shoulders, pushing you back towards the dressing room and turning to get the attention of the consultant who had been helping the three of you. "We're finding you a dress, and it's gonna be perfect."

< ... >

"Here brat, got you those fuckin' chips that you won't shut up about," Sukuna rolls his eyes as he closes the front door. He turns towards the couch, promptly throwing a bag of chips at Yuuji's face. You bite back the chuckle that claws up your throat as Yuuji yells out in surprise, pressing his palms against his face.

"The hell?! Uncalled for!" Yuuji whips his head around to send a glare to his older brother, the latter of whom only shrugs before turning his attention to you.

"Here, got you somethin' too," he says gruffly, clearing his throat as he rummages through the white plastic bag that he's slung over his arm. From it he removes a bag of candy that you had mentioned liking, which he hands to you.

"Oh, thanks Sukuna!" You turn to smile at him as you take it, fingers momentarily brushing against his own. The contact brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, though his face remains stoic as ever – completely unreadable. As he usually was.

Sukuna only grunts in response to your thanks, then turning on his heel and promptly vanishing into his room. You return your attention to the movie that Yuuji had put on, noticing him staring at you out of the corner of your eye.

"What?"

"Do you … shit (Y/N) … do you like my brother?"

You cough, Yuuji's question catching you completely off of your guard. You whip your head to face him, cheeks heating at the knowing smile that your best friend wears. He abandons his chips, already rising to his feet.

Shit.

You spring up from your place on the couch, already diving for Yuuji. Your arms lock around his waist, knocking both him and yourself to the ground. "Don't you fucking dare."

The pink-haired boy merely laughs in response, opening his mouth to yell. You yelp, pressing both of your palms against his lips and pressing down hard. He winces, but his eyes are still crinkled in that bright little shit-eating grin that continues to remind you just how fucked you were.

You stare down at him, eyes as cold as ice. "Say a word and I'll kill you."

Yuuji only rolls his eyes, but that shit-eating grin never once fades from his face.

< ... >

"See! I told you that we would find the perfect dress!" Nobara says proudly, hands on her hips as she admires you from behind. Her eyes meet yours in the reflection of your bedroom's mirror, lips turned upward in a smile.

You had to admit, the dress was absolutely gorgeous. It was (Y/F/C) with gentle highlights and trimmings that fit around both your chest and waist. The center of the dress was corseted, accentuating your figure; and the train of the dress was long enough to flow behind you, but not long enough that you would trip over it.

You turn your body around in the mirror, admiring the lace-up back of the dress. For the first time in a very long time, you felt pretty.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll admit … it is very pretty." You bite back a chuckle as Nobara claps her hands together, giddily turning to Maki and waiting for the green-haired girl to verbally approve as well.

"You do look amazing (Y/N)," Maki nods in agreement, her compliment bringing a gentle smile to your face. Nobara nods her head frantically, turning back to you and grinning again as her eyes rake up and down your figure.

The three of you pause at the sound of your front door opening and closing, followed then by your mother happily greeting whoever it was that had turned up on your doorstep. Nobara shoots you a confused look, one that you respond to with a confused look of your own.

"(Y/N)! Yuuji's here!"

You sigh, lifting your fingers to your nose and pinching at the bridge of your nose. You had completely forgotten that you had agreed to go to the arcade with Yuuji, and now here you were, standing in a prom dress even after you had told him countless times that you simply weren't going.

Nobara and Maki exchange glances, but neither of them say anything to you or each other.

"Okay! You can let him upstairs!"

The sound of foosteps approaching your door already has your blood running cold, but the expression that Yuuji wears when he opens your bedroom door makes it somehow colder.

"Oh wow (Y/N)! You look great! But I thought you said that you weren't coming to prom?" Yuuji points out, tilting his head curiously at you as he angles himself to close the door behind him. He glances then at both Nobara and Maki, neither girl answering him, leaving it completely up to you.

You clear your throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as you turn to face Yuuji completely. "Yeah … I know. Nobara kind of convinced me."

"Well, that's good!" Yuuji smiles sweetly, already moving towards your desk chair and flopping down into it. "Are you going with anyone?"

You remain silent – and that's when Nobara decides to step in, noticing the uncomfortable expression that you wear at Yuuji's question.

"She's coming with me and Maki," she answers. You nod, clearing your throat as you turn to Yuuji, half-expecting him to furrow his eyebrows at you. But luckily, he smiles at Nobara's response, nodding his head and deciding not to breach the subject any further.

< … >

"There you are, where's the brat?" Sukuna asks as he approaches you, leaning against the locker beside your own. You chuckle lightly at him, tilting your head to glance up at him – oddly enough, he was already staring at you.

"Yuuji? I think he's just finishing up with the Occult Club," you answer, removing your biology textbook from your locker before pushing the metal door shut. Sukuna hums, crossing his arms and tilting his head away from you.

He looks like he wants to say something, but is conflicted on whether or not he should actually say it. You study him for a second, opening your mouth to say something.

"There you both are! I'm ready to go home now," Yuuji says brightly, waving at both you and Sukuna from halfway down the hallway. He extends his hand to you, the both of you performing the handshake that you had perfected sometime during middle school. Sukuna rolls his eyes at the both of you, kicking off of the lockers and already swinging his keys on his index finger.

"Took you long enough," Sukuna comments with a harsh roll of his eyes, though you don't fail to notice the small smirk that tugs at the corner of Sukuna's mouth. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Yuuji nods, linking his arm with your own and lightly tugging you towards the school's exit. He grins at you as you stumble on your feet, letting out a small "Yuuji!" at his antics. Sukuna only shakes his head, following behind the both of you – keeping his distance.

"So, (Y/N), anyone asked you to prom yet?" Yuuji asks, his voice loud enough for Sukuna to hear behind him. You stand rigid in your best friend's hold, eyes flickering to his own. "Surely a girl like you got asked, right? With a big bouquet of flowers and--"

"Yuuji, stop," you say harshly, voice venomous as you push yourself out of Yuuji's arms. He glances at you, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something, but you hold a hand up, effectively cutting him off.

"I'm not going to prom with anyone because the person I wanted to go with is interested in someone else, okay? Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?" You lift a hand to wipe at your suddenly teary eyes, sighing to yourself and shaking your head.

"(Y/N), that's not what I--"

"Forget it. I'm just gonna take the bus home," you murmur to yourself, turning and walking straight past Sukuna, not even turning to apologize when your shoulder knocks against his own. His eyes follow you, narrowed in both confusion and irritation. Even so, he makes no move to follow you …

… even though he so desperately wants to.

< … >

"I-it was so humiliating Nobara! Just … just imagine how disgusted he must be with me right now!" You throw your hands up as you continue pacing, talking through your tears as best that you can. Though it proves to be a struggle, you manage to get your point across and speak for long enough before you dissolve into tears again.

Nobara's eyes soften, gaze flickering momentarily to Maki, who only wears an expression similar to the former's. She stands, opening her arms to you. They lock around you as you all but fall into them, clawing at her back and pressing your face into her shoulder, crying quietly into the fabric of her shirt.

"He's not disgusted with you," Nobara begins, but you're quick to cut her off, only crying more. Her hand smooths up and down the length of your spine, her gaze once again flickering to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something … anything … to comfort you.

But just like Nobara, Maki is at a loss for words, sitting quietly on your bed and watching you promptly break down in the expanse of Nobara’s arms.

“He is! He has to be, c’mon, I totally just — just left him there!” The grip you have over Nobara’s shoulders tighten, holding her impossibly tighter as you try to comfort yourself in her arms. The attempt is futile, and in reality, it only makes you feel worse.

“I’m sure that he understands.”

“It’s Sukuna, Maki!” You pry yourself from Nobara’s arms, swallowing the growing lump in your throat and angrily swiping at the tears that cling to your waterline. You sigh, allowing your head to fall into the palms of your hands, nails digging into the sides of your head.

“Come on (Y/N),” Maki says gently, moving towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. Her fingers squeeze at you comfortingly, a small smile curling her lips upward as you finally turn your head to make eye contact with her. “It’s a simple misunderstanding, I don’t think that Sukuna is going to automatically hate you because of it.”

You sigh shakily, allowing her to gently guide you to the edge of your bed. She pushes onto your shoulders, then sitting down beside you while Nobara sits in your desk chair — which she had pulled up to the side of the bed so that she could sit directly in front of you.

“Prom is tomorrow,” you murmur, sighing again a rubbing a hand down your face. Nobara and Maki exchange solemn looks, but neither of them say anything to one another. “And I just … maybe I shouldn’t go.”

Nobara immediately shakes her head, nearly stumbling from her seat from the force at which she leans back. Maki instinctively reaches for her, hands ready to brace the brunette if she were to fall.

“What?! After everything that we did? We got a dress, we went out and bought makeup, and we even rented a limo with everyone else!” Nobara says sharply, though her voice doesn’t hold any of the malice that you had expected it too. You knew what she was trying to do anyway, convince you by slightly guilting you into thinking that by you not being there, prom night would essentially be ruined.

You sniffle, rubbing a hand against your tear-stained cheeks. Maki reaches out, rubbing a hand against your back. Of course, she wants you to go to prom as well, but unlike Nobara, she wouldn’t sit there and guilt trip you into going. If you didn’t want to go, then it was as simple as that, you didn’t want to go.

“I-I know that, but Nobara—“

“Stop.” Nobara stands then, her hands on either side of your face and squishing your cheeks together. “We’re going to prom together, and that’s that. Got it?”

You sigh, blinking back the last bits of tears that cling to your lashes. And against your better judgement, even though you so desperately want to stay home all day tomorrow and rot …

… you nod against the skin of Nobara’s palms.

< … >

"(Y/N)! Guys!" Yuuji waves wildly from the front entrance of the school's gymnasium, lips turned upward in a wide grin as you, Nobara, and Maki approach. Standing beside Yuuji is Sukuna – who looks as though the only thing he craves at that moment is going home and vanishing for the weekend.

Uruame wasn't with him though … maybe she just hadn't arrived yet.

Nobara smiles as you all approach Yuuji, accepting his fist-bump. You turn to him as well, extending your hand at the same moment he does, the both of you performing that oh-so-elaborate handshake.

“You look nice,” Yuuji says to you, smiling. You return his smile, turning on your heel and marveling as your dress’ train lifts from the ground, creating a small circle around you as you turn. Yuuji turns then to Sukuna, whose eyes dart away as if he had been caught looking at something that he shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah … nice,” Sukuna murmurs underneath his breath. His comment brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, and in thanks, you nod your head at him.

“C’mon, let’s go inside!” Nobara says happily, her lips tuned upward in a smile as she reaches for your hands, tugging you towards the entrance of the gymnasium. You glance fleetingly at Sukuna, whose eyes are still fixed on anything but you — you wonder what color Uruame would wear.

Would she match him? Or would she wear a different color that complimented the one he wore?

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality as you allow Nobara to tug you towards the doors, her lips still turned upward in a delighted smile as she and Maki already begin nodding their heads in tune with the loud music that blares from inside of the gymnasium.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

You turn, eyebrows raised as you notice Sukuna looking at you, his body angled so that he faces you. His fingers twitch slightly, debating on whether or not they should reach out for you.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you? Jus’ for a second,” Sukuna responds gruffly, clearing his throat and hoping that the dimly lit sky was enough to hide the pink color that dusted his cheeks.

Nobara, Maki, and Yuuji all exchange knowing looks, their lips all turning upwards into Cheshire-cat-like smiles. None of them say a single word as they slip through the gymnasium’s open doors, leaving both you and Sukuna at the entrance.

“Everything okay?” you ask, tilting your head at Sukuna. He swallows, shoulders tensing and hands curling into white-knuckled fists. His nails, which had always been long, are no doubt leaving behind crescent-shaped marks on the skin of his palm — what the hell had him so nervous?

He hesitates, eyes flickering momentarily to you before they look away again. “Everything’s,” he clears his throat, “everything’s fine.”

You furrow your eyebrows together, not quite believing him. You lift your arms to cross them over your chest, shifting on your foot before finally noticing a tuft of white hair in the distance. You open your mouth to comment, but something stops you.

“So … where’s Uruame?” you settle for asking, glancing up at him and teasingly wiggling your eyebrows at him. He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“Uruame. You’re waiting out here for her aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make her walk into prom all by herself,” you turn on your heel to chastise him, pointing a finger at his chest. The crease between his eyebrows only deepens as you continue — which you take as a sign to promptly shut up.

The two of you stand in awkward silence for a moment, both of you turned away from the other in fear of what expression the other wore.

“Uruame’s not comin’ to prom,” Sukuna murmurs with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Said she wasn’t the biggest fan of parties, not that I blame ‘er.”

“Oh.”

Again, neither of you say anything to the other. You can feel your cheeks burning, and in the hopes that he wouldn’t say anything, you lift your hands to your face, covering it. He tilts his head, sighing with the smallest of smirks plastered onto his face.

“Lemme guess,” he turns to you, regaining his confidence and bending just enough so that his nose is level with your own. Your eyes widen, the pink color on your cheeks deepening at the sudden closeness. “You thought I was takin’ Uruame to prom, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” you reply quickly, your voice a high-pitched squeak. Sukuna chuckles, shifting back on his feet and crossing his arms over his chest, staring down his nose at you. “Okay, maybe.”

The taller man turns, leaning against the wall of the gymnasium and glancing at you through the corner of his eye. You shuffle on your feet, not daring to look up at Sukuna.

“That why you kept tellin’ Yuuji that you weren’t comin’ to prom?” he asks, grinning as he glances at you. “‘Cause you thought I was goin’ with Uruame?”

You remain silent — now suddenly embarrassed over your childlike reaction. To be honest, it had been petty for you to potentially throw away the entirety of your prom night over something as trivial as not having a date. But at the same time, your friends had been asked to prom by the people that they were romantically interested in — hell, even Yuuji had managed to successfully ask Megumi to prom. And that was after he had smacked himself in the face in front of his bathroom mirror.

Sukuna chuckles, leaning his head back and crossing his arms over his chest. His fingers drum against his clothed bicep, a delighted hum rumbling up somewhere in his throat as he relishes in your reactions. He clears his throat, catching your attention.

“Stupid,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out and laying it over the top of your head. You huff at him, smoothing your hands over your hair, hoping that all of the styling that you had done wasn’t ruined by Sukuna’s comically large palm.

“And that makes me stupid because?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at Sukuna. He rolls his eyes, once again leaning down to be at eye-level with you again. This time, however, you challenge his stare with one of your own — pointed and cold, though not nearly as cold as the glare situated in front of you.

“It makes you stupid because you actually thought I’d take someone other than you to prom.”

His words make you positively flush from head to toe. You stand as still as stone in front of him, inhaling sharply as he adjusts himself again. He offers his arm to you, nodding in the direction of the opened gymnasium doors.

“So then why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, sighing. “I’m not good at that kind of stuff, but trust me, you’re the only girl that I’d have ever even considered to take to this fuckin’ thing.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you slip your arm into Sukuna’s. His chest swells at the smile that you flash at him, and in a moment of bravery, he leans down to press his lips to your own.

Thank God that you had decided to go to prom.

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk angst #jjk fluff #modern sukuna

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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so hot (you’re hurting my feelings) | KSJ

✧ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You haven’t heard from your ex, Seokjin, in a year. When you're invited to his best friend Yoongi's engagement party, you know you should say no, that you should just leave it alone. But you can't pass up the chance to show Seokjin what he lost.

✧ TAGS: exes to lovers, light angst, seokjin’s problem is that he is chronically unserious (who is surprised?), smut, seokjin has a big dick (again who is surprised?)

✧ WARNINGS: hurt feelings, the angst is pretty light but it's still there, vaginal sex, riding!!!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: it is here!!! sorry it took so long, i've never written seokjin before!!! and then it turned into a monster like holy fuck. like study break, this wasn't beta'd, so i apologize in advance for mistakes/repeated phrases. seriously, i didn't even re-read it after i finished it because i just can't look at it anymore LMAO. STREAM HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 4.4k words

[10:42] Seokjin: i heard jimin invited you to the party for yoongi and eunji on saturday

[10:42] Seokjin: are you going?

You should’ve said no. That is one-hundred percent clear to you now.

Better yet, you really should’ve blocked Seokjin’s number a long time ago, laughed in Park Jimin’s stupid face when he invited you in the first place.

You’re super happy for Yoongi, you are. You were around when he and Eunji first started seeing each other, watched Yoongi agonize over the mushy, embarrassing feelings that come with falling in love. The fact that they’re engaged now? Insane. But knowing Yoongi, he surely would’ve been just as satisfied with a cursory ‘congratulations’ text.

Any sentence that starts with ‘Yoongi’ and ends in ‘party’ usually has a big, fat ‘doesn’t want to go to’ smushed in the middle. Bold and underlined. You knew from the get-go that any and all planning of this party was Jimin’s doing, and Jimin’s doing alone. That Yoongi would’ve been totally unbothered if you couldn’t make it.

Besides, Yoongi may be your friend, but Seokjin is your ex. And wherever there is Min Yoongi, there is also Kim Seokjin. Fuck, he’s probably going to be the best man. The logical part of you knew that it would be better for all parties involved to politely decline, to make up an excuse not to go.

Instead, what you said was—

[10:58] You: yeah i’ll be there

Maybe you’re trying to prove a point. Prove that you’re better off now, although whether you’re trying to prove it to Seokjin or yourself you still don’t know. It would explain the dress you’re wearing: short, fitting, a soft, baby pink—his favorite. Look at what you gave up, it screams.

Because you need him to know.

You haven’t seen each other in well over a year. It hurt, then, but now you’re thankful because it means he missed your rock bottom. He missed all of the tears you shed for him, the stolen sweatshirts you refused to stop wearing—the gaping, Seokjin-shaped hole he left in your life.

There was a time where you’d thought Seokjin was The One. It was no secret that you were heading towards marriage. Seokjin is the type of guy you’d always fantasized about being married to. On paper, he was perfect: kind, handsome, funny. Knew his way around a kitchen. Charmed your parents within seconds of meeting them.

But perfect on paper very seldom means perfect in reality. As it turned out, Seokjin had many flaws, the most notable being his inability to have difficult conversations. It was endearing until it wasn’t, until difficult conversations became more and more necessary to have the kind of future you’d dreamed of having with him.

Even the way things ended felt like the punchline to a joke that didn’t quite land. You broke things off, but you were still the more heartbroken one in the end. He handled it so graciously.

So, yes, part of you desperately needs him to see you, now that you’ve picked yourself back up.

Another part, though—a part that has decided to only make itself known now that you’ve actually stepped foot into Park Jimin’s soiree from hell—is fucking terrified of facing him after all this time. Terrified that he’ll see right through the makeup, the styled hair, the carefully placed mask—to find that you’re just as shattered as you were the day he left.

Standing here now, at a party that could’ve been yours and Seokjin’s in another life, you suddenly feel like you’ve made a horrible mistake.

But you’re here. No turning back now, because Jimin has already seen you, will surely notice if you suddenly go missing.

Thankfully, you excel at compartmentalizing like no other. Revenge era aside, you’re here to celebrate Yoongi and Eunji more than anything else. You fix your dress, fix your smile. Raise a glass to the happy couple and swallow down your nerves with a mouthful of expensive champagne.

You make your rounds. You haven’t seen most of the people here since you and Seokjin broke up, since they were all Seokjin’s friends first. Despite the urge to look over your shoulder every ten seconds, it’s nice to see them. You missed them.

The happy couple are just that: happy. Although Yoongi looks like he wants to strangle Party Planner Jimin™ with the tie he’s been forced to wear. Namjoon got a promotion at work since you last saw him. Hoseok is seeing someone new. Taehyung is seeing several new someones. Jeongguk is pink-cheeked and plastered. Everything is the same and completely different, and you can’t help the fondness that fills you as you greet them one by one.

Foolishly, you almost forget. Almost. You just barely make it to Yoongi’s fancy kitchen, looking to top off your champagne, when suddenly you feel a warm, familiar hand on your elbow.

“Y/N...”

Of course.

You’re frozen to the spot, unable to even turn around to face him. It’s been over a year since you’ve heard his voice and just the sound of it makes your throat feel tight. How embarrassing would it be if you cried in front of him before you even get a word in?

“Y/N, please look at me,” Seokjin says, voice soft.

Fucking get it together, you think.

You swallow thickly, school your features into the most neutral expression you can manage, and turn around.

Oh, life is unfair. Life is so unfair, because you had mentally prepared yourself for Seokjin to look great. Seokjin always looks great. There are no exceptions to that rule. He once used your kitchen scissors to cut his own bangs, and even though it looked like someone had taken a bite out of them, he was still fit for the cover of a magazine. Dazzling.

What you hadn’t prepared for, though, is that he would look even better than when you last saw him. Great you could’ve handled, but better? Did losing you really do him so many favors?

His hair is black again, as opposed to the chocolate brown you’d last seen. Shorter, too, and artfully styled. It’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but somehow he looks bigger, just enough for you to take notice.

And if things couldn’t get more devastating for you, three whole buttons at the top of his shirt have been left unbuttoned. Two more buttons than he’d normally ever allow, showing off a tantalizing swath of chest.

Kim Seokjin, what happened to your modesty, you whore?

“Hi,” he says, smiling at you kindly. He’s breathless and pink, like he’d done a little jog to get to you. You try not to read into it. Compose yourself.

“Hi,” you reply, polite but so, so carefully detached.

“I guess this was inevitable, huh?”

Not really, you think to yourself. He’s the one who approached you. He could’ve just as easily not—it would’ve been the kinder thing to do. But you bite your tongue.

“Guess so,” you say instead.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” Seokjin says.

You’re not quite sure what to do with that. Why would you even cross his mind anymore, if he so obviously didn’t care when you dumped him?

Sensing that you don’t know what to say, Seokjin continues, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

“What I mean is, I’m really unhappy with the way we left things.”

That makes you scoff. The first crack in your mask of politeness.

“You didn’t seem it, when it happened,” you reply coolly. “I don’t know what could’ve possibly changed in a year of zero contact.”

He visibly deflates a little, his smile faltering. “Y/N, I—”

“I don’t want to do this, Seokjin,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “There’s no use digging up the past. We ended for a reason.”

“I know that,” he insists. He steps closer to you and you immediately step back in response. “Look, can’t we just talk?”

“You want to talk now?” you ask, your mounting frustration spilling over at his insistence. His proximity, the familiar smell of him overwhelms your brain. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be stubborn, Y/N,” Seokjin huffs. The nerve of him, sounding just as frustrated as you. He doesn’t have the right. “I want… I want to explain. Just let me explain.”

You know it’s not the time or the place to do this. Normally, you’d be completely disinterested in the prospect of hashing things out in Yoongi’s kitchen, in a party full of people. But all of the what if’s that have piled up the past year nag at you to listen to what he has to say.

“Fine,” you snap, impatient. “If that’s what I have to do to get you to leave me alone.”

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “When you ended things… I just—I let you,” he says. “I let you because you were right. I didn’t know how to handle conflict between us. I thought… I thought if I just brushed our problems off, if I made you laugh and put them out of your mind, it would be enough to make everything okay.”

He looks down, staring at his shiny shoes. If you were together, you would crack a joke about him staring at his own reflection. Not the time for that, though.

“And clearly, it wasn’t. You were unhappy. And I hated that I was the one to make you that way, because all I ever wanted to do was make you smile,” he continues. “So I let you go. I thought you’d be better off.”

Better off? How could he possibly think you would be better off without him? How could he possibly think that you didn’t want him to fight for you, back then? All you wanted was for him to prove you wrong, to show you that he could own up to his faults, and instead…

“I wasn’t ready to have those hard conversations with you, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m ready now,” Seokjin says as he looks up at you. “I don’t want to laugh things off, or push them aside and hope it gets better. I know I’m a year too late, but I want to be better for you, if you’ll let me.”

Shit.

“Jin, I… Those are pretty words, but how am I supposed to trust that things will actually be different this time?”

“...I guess you won’t know unless you try,” he says. His voice is soft, fragile like spun sugar. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to take the risk. But… Y/N, I love you. I at least need you to know that. I never stopped.”

Love.

He never stopped loving you. But… If he never stopped loving you, why did he wait so long to tell you? You want to believe him, but it all feels too good to be true. You’re overwhelmed, caught at a crossroads you had no idea you’d face when you agreed to come tonight.

“...I don’t know,” you say weakly. The tears that have been forming in your eyes finally start to spill, one by one. “I don’t know if that’s good enough. This past year has been… I don’t want to let you back in just to get hurt all over again. I don’t know if I can pick myself back up a second time.”

“You won’t have to,” he says gently. He reaches out to touch your arm, hesitant, and you let him. “I’m serious about this, Y/N. I know I won’t be perfect, but I don’t ever want to lose you again. Not if I can help it.”

You sniffle and Seokjin’s hands reach for you, cradling your face. His thumbs rub at your cheeks gently.

“Please don’t cry,” he says, his voice almost pained. “You’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.”

You let your eyes fall shut, allow yourself a steadying breath as Seokjin wipes your tears away.

Maybe it’s the familiarity, the ease with which you let him touch you, even after everything that’s happened. Maybe it’s all of the built-up longing you’ve stored for him over the past year, bubbling over now that he’s in front of you, broad and strong and safe. Maybe it’s that he still loves you. You know you should think this over a little longer, that you shouldn’t fold so easily. That there’s so much more to talk about and work through. But still…

“Okay,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest. “You get one more chance. On a trial basis.”

Seokjin’s stupid, perfect lips pop open, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ in what you can only assume is shock. Like he was ready for a swift and justified rejection, wasn’t expecting his speech to pay off.

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t. You won’t be, not until he proves himself. Not until he shows you that he’s ready to face the hard parts of a relationship, to handle it like an adult when things get bad. But damn if you don’t want to give him the chance to.

“I’m gonna put you through the fucking wringer,” you say, firm. “I’m going to make you talk about all of the things you skipped out on before. But… I want to let you try.”

Seokjin. laughs breathlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I deserve that. We can talk about anything you want,” he concedes. Warm eyes study you for a moment before he lets out a tentative, “can I kiss you?” He sounds so hopeful, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s crazy, how it takes you right back to the start. Your first date—Seokjin, ever the gentleman, walking you to your door. The tentative press of lips for the very first time, his hands hovering by your waist like he’s afraid to touch you.

But it isn’t the first time. After a moment of nerves, Seokjin eases into it, deepens it. His hands are confident when they finally make contact with your waist, pressing you against the kitchen island behind you. You melt into the easy slide of his lips against yours, surprising yourself when your tongue slides against his, earning a pleased hum from him.

It dawns on you how inappropriate this is, making out with your ex (???) in his best friend’s kitchen—at his best friend’s engagement party—but you can’t bring yourself to care that much. Not when you’ve finally gotten a taste of what you’ve been missing for so long.

When he finally pulls away, Seokjin’s lips are deliciously swollen. You can’t tear your gaze away no matter how hard you try. Your hands smooth over his shirt, feeling his broad shoulders, the silky material stretching over them.

“I know I owe you a much longer conversation, but…” He trails off. You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck. “God, this dress…”

He trails a finger down a thin strap, and just like that, your every nerve ending is alight. It’s embarrassing, how easily you crumble for him from just a little bit of kissing. How your thighs squeeze together at the husky tone of his voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing his nose against the side of your neck, breathing you in. “Did you wear this dress for me?”

“Wanted you to know what you lost,” you mumble, a little petulant. Still wanting to punish him, just a little.

“I know what I lost,” Seokjin admits easily. His hand smooths down your side, over the silky material of your dress. “Believe me, I know. I’m an idiot.”

Shit. This is working for him. Groveling looks just as good on him as everything else does.

“You are,” you agree weakly, your eyes fluttering shut. He’s being perfectly respectful, keeping his hands in safe places, and you’re already falling apart.

“Let me take you home with me,” he says. When his plush lips press to your neck, you can’t hide the way your breath hitches. “Let me make up for it.”

“Are you joking? You can’t leave,” you say, breathless. “What about Yoongi?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you know Seokjin can see right through you. How close you are to saying fuck it.

“Yoongi wants to be at this party even less than I do,” Seokjin says. “You know that. Please, baby.”

★★★

When you make it to Seokjin’s apartment, it becomes clear that both of your patience is wearing dangerously thin.

In all the time that you’ve known him, you’ve never known Seokjin to be like this—the passionate, ‘need to have you now’ kind of guy—and you really didn’t mind. Instead, he was an exceptionally respectful lover. He took his time, checked in with you to make sure you liked what he was doing. Missionary with eye contact. Seokjin didn’t fuck, he made love.

But when he unzips your dress, lets it pool at your feet, guides you to lay on the bed that you’d once shared—you feel like all he’s itching to do right now is fuck you.

It’s the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark as he takes in the matching set that was hidden under your dress—also pink. You’ve never seen this look on Seokjin before.

“This,” he murmurs, his fingers skimming over your clothed heat, forcing a gasp out of you. “This is new. Never seen it before.”

Suddenly, you understand what must be going through his head. Had you bought this for someone else? Had someone else slowly peeled it off of you, unwrapped you like a gift?

In reality, you haven’t slept with anyone else since you broke things off, too busy throwing yourself into work to think about it. Still, it’s nice to see the little flicker of jealousy in his expression, the tick in his jaw.

You look up at him, biting back a smug grin. “You like it?”

“Mmm,” he hums in affirmation, fingers finding your clit with an ease that only someone who knows your body like he does could manage. “Very much.”

Seokjin forces a moan out of you as he rubs you in circles, soaking the fabric of your panties with the wetness that had built up during the ride to his apartment.

“I bought it last week,” you gasp out, quelling his worries in an instant. It would be nice, of course, to torture him a little bit longer, but the burning need between your legs is getting too difficult to bear. “Needed something that wouldn’t show through the dress.”

“So you bought it for me, too,” he smirks, tilting his head at you. The bastard. “You know, like the dress.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, although the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grind against his fingers tells a different story.

“Oh noooo, don’t kill me.” Seokjin grins, withdrawing his fingers to instead hook them into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. “At least wait until after I make you cum. You’d be punishing yourself otherwise.”

Cocky motherfucker. You sit up on your elbows, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your eyes to look at him, you stop short.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes wide as he stares down at your pussy. It’s a testament to how wrecked he is at the sight—Seokjin doesn’t curse often. “So beautiful…”

“Jin,” you gasp as he spreads you open with his thumbs, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he discovers how much you’re dripping for him. “Don’t tease.”

“I won’t tease, baby,” he says silkily, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your thighs. “You know I have to work you open, though. No way you’ll be able to take me otherwise.”

You gasp when he sinks to his knees, cry out when he wraps his lips around your clit, laving over you with his tongue. When your hands fly down to his shoulders, holding him there, he hums in approval and you earn a deft finger sliding into you.

“M-more,” you moan, your back arching when that finger crooks up, rubbing expertly at your inner walls. “More, please…”

He pulls back, focusing his efforts on stretching you open with his fingers, two now. “Since you asked so nicely,” he says with a smug smirk.

By the time he adds a third you’re basically incoherent, right on the edge. You feel like you’re going to cum any second, writhing and moaning as your muscles tense in anticipation, but Seokjin withdraws as soon as he catches on.

“Not so fast,” he says, ignoring the way you whine at the loss, pussy clenching helplessly around nothing. Fuck, you feel so empty. “You know how I want you to cum, baby.”

Fucking tease. Fine, if he wants to be like that, maybe you will have an opportunity to torture him a little bit.

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, you look up at Seokjin as your hands find the front of his pants. You give him a squeeze, biting back a smirk when he practically whimpers at the contact.

“Y/N—”

“I wanna ride you, Jinnie,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes as you unzip his pants and teasingly push them down his legs.

“Yeah, okay,” he wheezes, nodding jerkily. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. Cute, you think. You haven’t seen him like this since the first handful times you had sex, months after you started dating. Despite having had sex before, it took him a while to stop being a blushing mess. It fills you with satisfaction that not having you for so long has brought this side out in him again.

Once the rest of his clothes are shed and you’ve very slowly rolled a condom onto him—much to Seokjin’s embarrassment—you guide him to sit up against his headboard, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks. His eyes are fixed on yours, searching.

“With the amount of times I’ve taken your stupid big cock, you really think I don’t know when I’m ready?” you tease, guiding his tip to slide between your folds.

All of the embarrassment is suddenly gone as Seokjin grips your ass firmly. “Yeah? Then take it,” he practically growls, making you shiver.

You slooooowly ease yourself down just the slightest bit, but the stretch of Seokjin’s cock is overwhelming after such a long time without it. All of the air is stolen from your lungs as you work him in, inch by agonizing inch.

“That’s it,” Seokjin says, his hands rubbing over your thighs soothingly. “You okay?”

“‘M good,” you manage, your hands gripping at his forearms as you sink down deeper. Once he’s fully sheathed, you take a long moment to catch your breath, feeling the way he pulses inside of you.

Once you feel ready, you give an experimental roll of your hips, testing the waters. You both moan in unison, and when you look up at Seokjin it’s clear he’s using all of his restraint not to fuck up into you.

“God,” he grits out, pained. “You feel so good.”

“You do, too,” you moan, setting a slow rhythm for yourself as you fuck yourself on his cock. “Always feel good, Jinnie.”

He surges forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making you gasp into his mouth. Your kisses are sloppy, unable to maintain any finesse as your movements become more confident, more desperate.

When he decides you can take it, his hips start to snap up to meet yours.

“Fuck,” you moan against his lips, overwhelmed by the intensity. “God—Jin, holy shit.”

“Look so good on my cock,” he groans, pulling back from the kiss to watch the way you bounce in his lap, his tongue darting out run over his bottom lip. “‘M never gonna get tired of seeing you like this.”

You’re going to cum. You were already close before, but now—with the way he’s gazing at you, with the feeling of him inside of you—you’re so close to tipping over the edge it’s making your head spin.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb. “Cum for me, baby. So beautiful.”

That’s all it takes. The pleasure is overwhelming, your muscles tightening as you muffle a cry into his shoulder. Seokjin lets out a low moan, his thrusts turning erratic under you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You’re limp on top of him, moaning incoherently as Seokjin chases his own release, the sounds of his hips slamming up against your ass rattling around in your ears.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he spills into you. He slows to a stop, both of you panting as his forehead presses against yours. Eyes squeezed shut, you fumble blindly for his hands to lace your fingers with his, still catching your breath.

It feels so right, being with him like this again. You were afraid, at first, that there was too much baggage between you for it to feel this good. But sitting here now, both of you glowing with pleasure, all of that fear is gone.

“Seokjin,” you pant, squeezing his hands. “Don’t let me leave again. If we’re going to do this, I need you to fight for me.”

When you open your eyes, Seokjin is grinning at you stupidly. He looks so, so fond that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“I already told you, I’m not losing you again,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Good,” you say, a soft smile playing at your lips.

It feels like a moment. You’re both exactly where you should be, wrapped up in each other as if you’d never been apart in the first place.

“...Are you going to tell me you love me while my dick is still inside you?” he teases, his grin growing even wider.

Huffing, you smack at his chest, earning a wheezing laugh from him.

“I do love you, you idiot,” you complain. Kim Seokjin, the king of ruining moments, seriously.

“I know, baby,” he says, stifling his laughter enough to kiss you softly. “I love you, too.”

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this fic! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

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afriendlyblackhottie · 10 months ago

Text

One or the Other

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader x Sebastian Stan

Summary: after hooking up with Bucky and not telling Steve, you’ve been letting the guilt get to you. Good thing bad it doesn’t have to.

Warnings: minors dni, smut, perceived cheating, manipulation, knotting, unprotected sex, non con, oral sex, Daddy kink

[A/N: yaaaay finally. Lmao I rewrote this so many times so omg I’m happy it’s finally done I hope all of you like it 😀☺️ this is unedited as I write it on tumblr’s writing thing and autocorrect is ass and and I… make mistakes lmao. Please don’t forget to like and comment. If you really really like it I’m taking tips CA: $allieday27 & PP: @allieafbh. Thanks so much for reading guys. You know I love coming back to you 💜 ✌🏾)

————————————————-

“He wouldn’t what?”

This time Steve said it with a scoff, as the words had just come from his boyfriend’s lips. Don’t even know how you’d gotten to this topic. Definitely didn’t feel appropriate for the dinner table even if you were at the point where the bill was being paid. Especially not the swanky restaurant they’d had you sitting in all dressed up like you were their shared date.

Hell they’d all but asked for that anyway. Had told you they were taking you out and to be ready by seven. It’d been about a month since you’d started living with them anyway. Bucky had clearly meant it when he said he liked the housewife look on you as it self like that’d pretty much had been what you’d become.

Who else would become the lady of the house if not for the lady of the house. Especially as they’d kept you sleeping in between them. Had been feeling bad for their lack of intimacy even, but they insisted it was fine.

It wasn’t like the three of you hadn’t talked about sex before. Sure you hadn’t gone into detail, but you’d never call yourself a prude. Normally. But all of that was before Bucky had tasted your pussy. Before Steve had started kissing you goodnight every single night as the two of you fell asleep on the same bed.

And now like that first night it was Steve’s turn to find out your dirty little secret. That you’d been dating a man who wouldn’t do what his boyfriend easily did. Behind his back. And fuck it made you feel like the worst kind of person.

“Tell him, Y/N,” Bucky insisted, as if it was pressing news, but after they’d scared him shitless when they went to retrieve your things the day before they’d been a little hyped off their own egos.

“I mean… yeah… I know but-,”

“But what?” Steve laughed. “I just never took you as the type to settle.”

You crinkled your nose at his words. Looking over at Bucky who seemed just as curious to hear your answer. “I mean what can I say, it wasn’t like he was bad in bad necessarily he just said he didn’t like it.” You tried excusing it away. Not exactly wanting to be the topic of conversation anymore.

Bucky and Steve looked to one another. Sharing a knowing glance before Steve reached over to place his hand over yours. “Any man would be lucky to eat your pussy.”

“Steve!” You gasped, ripping your hand away from him. Looking around to make sure no one heard as the two of them laughed. So unlike him anyway. What happened to the reserved sweetheart the world had come to love.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His laughter slowed to light hearted chuckles. “But I mean it.” He shrugged. “Right, Bucky?”

Who was the best and worst person to ask this question to. Your face heating up as he smirked at you. Making you squirm under his icy gaze. “Definitely, Doll.”

You crossed your arms, looking away from the both of them to try and gather your thoughts. Could feel their eyes on you as they changed the conversation. Already feeling cruddy enough that you’d let your best friends boyfriend touch you like that or that you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head since it happened.

The annoying craving you hadn’t been able to shake of wanting him to do it again, but maybe even more. Maybe even worse. Had been craving the way he talked at you. Which was making all of this really difficult right now.

As you looked back over to them you saw them do these little smiles before pecking each others lips. The romantic gesture causing your heart to ache a little. Which was so annoying as you’d never felt like that before. My how things can change in a month.

“Where you going?” Came from my mouth as soon as Steve stood up.

“Bathroom. Why you gonna miss me?” He teased.

“Definitely,” you mumbled as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. The spot tingling as he walked away. Bucky still keeping his eyes on you as if he was being paid to baby sit you.

“Did I tell you, you look nice tonight?” He said after a few moments of silence. As if he didn’t know. Before you left the house him and Steve had called you pretty so many times you were scared it was adding to your ego.

“Once or twice,” you replied, face feeling hot. Not that you wanted him to affect you like this.

Bucky looked his lips before they turned up in a smile. “What do you wanna do after this?” He asked. “Too pretty for us to just take you home. Gotta show you off.”

“It’s fine,” you replied. “Besides I’m getting kinda tired.” He narrowed his eyes before standing up. Coming to sit on the same side as you in the empty booth. “What are you doing?” You asked with a chuckle.

“Tired my ass. Come on, Doll. What do you wanna do? We could go dancing or maybe get some ice cream,” he named off before stopping. “Actually… that ice cream sounds really good.” He hummed before bringing his lips close to your ear. “Maybe I could eat it off of ya?”

“Bucky!” You smacked his leg making him laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Doll.” He didn’t stop his laughter, “but actually that doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.”

You glared at him as he smirked. Clearly proud of himself for his ability to make you squirm. If anything it was only egging him on. Wanted to see how far he could push you.

“Remind me to schedule an ice cream date for us one of these days,” he said, placing a hand on your thighs. The dress you were wearing was the one they helped you pick it when they took you shopping. Said you couldn’t wear any of the rags you wore on dates with Bryce while with them. As if it had bothered them before.

They weren’t lying when they said it had hugged four curves real well. Made you look like a grown woman. Could have sworn you saw Bucky’s pants get a little tighter when you modeled it for them. Now he was feeling all up on you without a care in the world when his partner could have come back at any moment.

“Fuck, Doll, you’re the prettiest fucking girl in his place,” he whispered in your ear. Free hand grabbing onto yours as the other moved circles on your thigh.

“Bucky,” you whimpered out. Already feeling like putty under his touch. “We can’t.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he said before kissing the side of your neck.

“What if he comes back,” you turned to him.

“We’re. Not. Doing. Anything,” he whispered in your ear again. Hands creeping dangerously close to your center. “See. I’m not the only one that thinks it’s insane that your boyfriend wasn’t eating you out. I ate you out once and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

A soft gasp left your mouth as he kissed your neck again. As if there wasn’t anyone that could see the two of you in a restaurant full of people. It was like he didn’t care. Worse then that he was giving you exactly what you’d been wanting and you did not want him stopping even though this was the last thing either of you needed to be doing.

“But what about Steve?” You gasped out. “We can’t just-,”

“Steve’s fine,” he cut you off. “I think you wanna get caught. You naughty little-,”

“Alright you two ready to go?” Steve came back finally coming to sit on the side he’d already been occupying. Bucky was pulling away like shit didn’t happen

“Yeah. We were just thinking about what we should do after this,” Bucky sobered up. “What do you say doll. Keep it innocent and let us take you out for ice cream.”

And this man damn well knew he was far from innocent.

——————————————————

From the ice cream shop you were happy they were letting you call it a night. Not that you hadn’t been having fun, but you were definitely going to need a cold shower or something. Something felt strange about touching yourself while in their bed even when they weren’t home and right now you could use some kind of relief.

Had gotten off a few times in the shower but it just wasn’t the same. Even in the bathtub it was like none of it was ever enough. Funny how after all that time with Bryce you’d never felt this desperate but Bucky tongue fucks you and turns you into an addict and he hadn’t even made you cum yet.

“Damn, you’re making a big mess,” Bucky laughed as the ice cream dripped off onto your chest. Wanting to not chance it getting on your dress. “Gonna have to buy you a bib next.”

You glared at him before trying to smack his shoulder only for him to grab your hand. “Hey!” Not that he cared as he overpowered you. Leaning down so he could lick up the sticky liquid. “Bucky!”

Steve laughed beside the two of you. Shaking his head. “Gotta be tastier than eating it off the cone.”

You glared at him, but before you could say anything, Bucky grabbed the cone to hit it against your chest. The cold making you jump as Steve’s laughter increased. “Want a taste?” Bucky offered.

“Hey!” You protested, standing up. Looking down at the now dairy covered fabric. “What the hell!”

“Chill, Doll. We’re just messing around.” He laughed.

"I’m just gonna go shower,” you walked off to the guest room that had been used for your clothes that no one had bothered to make fine for you to sleep in. Regretting it tonight since you definitely needed some kind of alone time.

As you’d gathered your things to go to the bathroom you groaned seeing the door closed with the light on underneath. Fucking nice. “You ok?” Steve’s voice came from behind you making you jump. A smile turning up on his lips as you put your hands on your sticky chest cringing at the feeling. “Bucky got you pretty good, huh.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled.

“Come on. I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

“It’s fine. I’m gonna shower anyway.”

“I know, but just… let me help you, Doll.”

With that you followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a towel to wet it. Gabbing it along your chest as you reached up to take it. “I can do it,” you said, but found yourself faltering as he looked into your eyes.

“I know, but I like taking care of you. Me and Bucky. We both do,” he said softly. “We hope you like it too.”

You nodded, lost in his gaze as he kept dabbing along your chest. “I mean I do, but-,” you stopped.

“But, what? You know you can talk to me.”

But I’ve been messing around with your boyfriend on the low? Felt so strange trying to come out and just say it. Even if you should have. “I know,” you whispered. With his half smile he leaned in to kiss your cheek. Letting his lips linger on your skin. “Steve, I…” you trailed off, chest feeling heavy. Bad enough Bucky had already worked you up.

“Talk to me, Doll,” he whispered lips close to yours now. His breath fanning against your skin.

“You know what we need?” Bucky’s voice boomed as he came into the room, making you fling yourself away. Steve stood there sober as hell still with a smirk on his face. Fuck it was like the two of them were trying to give you whiplash.

“What is it, Buck?” Steve asked.

“We are way too sober. I’ll just run to the liquor store real quick.”

Yeah cuz that’s what the three of you needed. Alcohol.

—————————————————-

That shower really didn’t do much to curb the invasive thoughts you were having. Or the aching between your thighs. Had been feeling so pent up that it was no wonder you couldn’t get it together.

Bucky was still gone and Steve was holding two records in his hand. “What do you think, Doll?” He asked holding up the two options.

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumbled.

Steve hummed in response before deciding for himself. Music soon filling the room after. Not like you hadn’t grown to like their 1940’s tastes as much as they’d been willing for you to show them your own music.

He sat down beside you. The two of you letting the music play around you as you lost yourself in thought. Had been trying to take your eyes off of his broad shoulders or anything else that might make your mouth water.

Sat through the first song, still not speaking until the next one started up. “Oh! You have to dance with me,” Steve blurted out.

“Huh?”

“Dance with me? Please.” He stood up, holding out his hand.

With a sigh you nodded. Taking his hand in yours so he could help you up. Even if you thought it was the last thing you should be doing. Ignoring the sparks that shot through your arm. Besides it was only a dance.

Steve snugly wrapped his arms around you, chin going to the top of your head. “This is nice,” he said, swaying back and forth with you.

Could feel how strong he was like this. Had gotten used to this in bed but it wasn’t like Bucky wasn’t right there. Had never felt all of him all alone.

Sure you’d hugged before, but guess you’d never felt so small next to him before. Your head starting to swim as if you’d had more to drink. Guess the two glasses of wine at dinner were starting to get to you.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Steve asked, trying to force you to make conversation somehow. His insistence making you crack a smile as you’d had found yourself a little too comfortable in his chest.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Until Bucky got ice cream on my dress.”

He laughed at that. “Well, to be fair, it did look pretty tasty.”

You looked up at him. Face all scrunched up. “You’re not supposed to agree!”

Another laugh left his lips as he looked down at you. “What do you want me to say.”

“I don’t know!” You rolled your eyes. “Go, hey, Y/N, sorry my boyfriend’s such an ass and spilled ice cream all over your tits.”

It only made him laugh more. “Well first of all, watch your mouth, Doll. And second it was only ice cream.”His words made your head jerk back. Except his arms tightened around you so you couldn’t step away. “Besides we had fun anyway.”

He rubbed his hands up and down your back. The spot he touched feeling so hot even through the t-shirt you were wearing. Not like he wasn’t right. Had been enjoying yourself you just felt so tense with the sneaking.

“We did,” you agreed.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head. Going back to putting your cheek against his chest. “Just tired,” you mumbled.

“Aw, Honey.” He cooed, placing a kiss on your forehead. The spot tingling once again. “Guess I’m just surprised, though. Since the two of you had been fucking I’m surprised you’re so shy.”

With that said, it felt like someone had punched you in the gut. A sharp intake of air as if you’d been plunged into the Arctic. “Steve, we didn’t-,”

He laughed. “What? You didn’t think I’d know? Didn’t think I’d notice him touching you under the covers every night.”

“What? We haven’t.” You shook your head. “We- we didn’t. Not like that,” feeling yourself panicking.

Steve finally let you out of his hold but made sure to grab your hand. “Calm down, Doll,” he laughed. What the hell. “It’s ok.”

“I just- I’ve been wanting to tell you- and I’m sorry- I… I…,” you struggled to get the words out, “I promise I wanted to tell you i just-,”

“Doll, it’s. Fine.” Emphasizing each word. Bringing you back into him so his hands could go to your hips. “Can’t believe you didn’t think I’d already know. Think Buck wouldn’t have told me?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. He never said- I mean we never really talked about it,” you said, feeling that familiar prickle in your eyes as you tried to hold in your tears. “It just… happened. I promise it was only once… kind of. And-,”

“Doll,” he pressed. “It’s okay.” With that pulling you over to the couch. Taking. A seat and pulling you down with him. Right on his lap. “What you don’t believe me?” He asked, putting his hand on your cheek. Stroking it with his thumb. “If it wasn’t alright you wouldn’t be here, Baby.” He chuckled. “Especially after all that Bryce shit.”

“I just… I don’t know what I would have done without you both, ya know.” Your voice cracked as a tear slid down your face. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and-,”

“Hey,” he whispered. Hooking a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “Relax.” Catching you off guard as he placed his lips on your cheek. The warmth of him making you melt. “That’s it. That’s our girl. My girl.”

Breath hitching in your throat. “Steve…” you couldn’t help yourself as you said his name. Brain already feeling too fuzzy.

The blond licked his lips while glancing down at yours. “What is it, Baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I’m just… thankful,” was all you could muster.

Steve chuckled. “Oh come on. I think you and I both know what you want.”

Your bottom lip quivered. “I don’t-,”

But, before you could say finish he cut you off with a kiss. At first you sat on his lap frozen. Even as your heart fluttered. Not like any girl wouldn’t get like this from kissing Captain America.

Which was the problem. You weren’t supposed to be like the rest of them. “We can’t,” you forced yourself to move away.

“Says who?” He scoffed.

“I don’t get you two,” you abruptly stood up before he could react. “What was this whole thing some kind of long con to fuck me.” You stood in front of him with your arms crossed.

He shook his head. Standing up with you. “Of course not. Even if we- look if you didn’t want this, none of this would change. The problem is I know you want it. Stop pretending you don’t.”

With that his hands were back to pulling you close. Arms still folded in front of you. Not like you could deny it.

“I can fucking smell how wet you are, Doll,” he whispered in your ear. “Think Daddy doesn’t know how horny you’ve been for him.”

Your jaw dropped at that. Never thought you’d hear words like that coming from Steve of all people. So quickly too you hadn’t even-

“Steve-,”

“Nuh uh,” he said, not caring anymore as his hands went down to your ass. You jumped closer to him. That only made him smile again. “Don’t bullshit me, Baby. I can fucking smell it on you.” He laughed. “How fucking wet you are. That you’re ovulating. Bet if I touched you right now you’d cream all over.”

“Steve!” You gasped. Could not believe you’d been hearing such vulgarity from Steve of all people. Or… huh.

“But am I wrong?” He came back to sit. This time instead of sitting, you straddled him. Feeling his bulge press into your center. The sensation making you yelp.

Didn’t even get the chance to answer him as he put his hands under your ass. Gripping the flesh in his palms. Not caring as you twitched up as you came back down on top of him.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know him and Bucky are attracted to women. Just had never expected them to be attracted to you. Yet there you were on top of one after the other had gone down on you. The other positioning you right over his dick that you could tell by the feeling would no way fit inside of you.

Yet as a moan fell from your lips, you know you were definitely a goner. The point of no return and then some. “That’s right. Why are you trying to play like you don’t want it, Baby. Knew you weren’t going to say no to me.”

“Steve-,” you couldn’t help it as you whimpered out.

“Unless you’re going to beg for my dick right now I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he growled. “Getting sick of your fucking mouth.”

Another whimper coming from you. Don’t know why you would be reacting to him like this after he talked to you like that. Something about it making you want to do as he said. Listen. Be good.

“That’s my girl, huh,” he whispered. “That’s my puppy isn’t it. You’re always such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?” He hissed.

It was all happening so quickly. No chance to react as he started kissing you again. This time not pulling away. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Hands still massaging your ass.

Wasn’t long before you were flipped on your back with him hovering on top of you. Hooking your leg over his hip. Moaning into his mouth as he ground his crotch into yours.

His tongue fighting yours for dominance even though you were already sure of your role. He’d get his way. Already had. Wasn’t like you wanted to tell him no.

Steve pulled away so he could kiss down your neck. “Cant believe that asshole wouldn’t eat you out,” he said. “All I can fucking think about and he wouldn’t do it? Fucking loser.” Had never heard him talk like this before, but you’d be lying if you said it had no effect on you.

“Steve,” You whimpered.

“Ah ah ah, that’s not what you call me. Say it right or I’ll stop.”

No. He can’t stop why would he stop! Doesn’t he see that he was making you come undone so easily. Didn’t it mean anything to him. “I don’t- I - Daddy,” You remembered.

Steve smirked. “That’s a good girl. Take this shit off.” Barely giving you the chance to react as he yanked you up so he could pull your shirt off in one fell swoop. Breasts on full display as he licked his chops. “Fuck,” he said before leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Daddy!” You mewled from the contact as he made a show of circling his tongue around one of the nub.

“That’s it. Fuck. You little slut. Have you been sleeping between us without a bra on this whole time,” he asked taking it between his teeth.

“I can’t sleep with one on,” you sounded so goddamn whiny, but you couldn’t help it.

“You don’t have to lie, Doll. You been waiting for me to taste you, huh?”

Not that it was your plan, but shit you kind of wish it had been been. “I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered.

“Didn’t mean to what? First you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and now you didn’t mean for me to fuck you?”

“He didn’t!” You protested.

Steve got back on his knees. Grabbing your cheeks in his hand. “What did I say about you watching your damn mouth?” He asked. Teeth barred, eyes narrow. Looking like he was ready to devour you.

“He didn’t. I promise.” You whined. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t.”

Steve’s eyes softened at that. Watching you lay there flat on your back at his mercy. Even still trying to be a good friend. Well… as good as one as you could be in a situation like this. Isn’t that why they needed you. Your sense of loyalty.

Were loyal to Bryce when he definitely didn’t deserve it. Had shown yourself so many times to have had their back when no one else did. Things had been hard as hell when they first came out about their relationship and yet there you were.

Had gotten so close to them that it started to feel like you were part of them. Then Bryce of all fucking people had the nerve to get jealous. Except he should have been. If they’d known how easy you would have folded they would have done this sooner actually.

So as your pleas came from your mouth insisting you were telling the truth, something about it… he doesn’t know. He was Steve Rogers after all. It really was no wonder that it somehow only made him harder. Still you saw the glimpse of the Steve you normally saw.

“I promise. I’m sorry,” you pleaded. “I was feeling so cruddy. I didn’t wanna hurt you.”

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly. “It’s ok. It’s ok.” All your emotions were clearly bubbling out as he came to sit up. Bringing you with him. “It’s ok. It’s ok,” he whispered softly. Kissing your temple.

“I just-,” you wiped your eyes. “I just don’t understand.”

“About what, Doll?” He asked, having not pulled his mouth away from you.

“Is this all you two wanted. I thought- I though-,”

Steve stopped you with a kiss. “Relax,” he said against your lips. You quivered and he didn’t stop. Peck after peck after peck. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded. Not like you hadn’t been kissing him back. It was instinctive at this point. That ache still there. Wanted to feel his teeth back on your breasts. Just wanted him. “Daddy,” you moaned again. Can’t believe how easy it was for you to flip into it.

Steve deepened it after that. Starting to get up and holding you closer to him when you gasped in surprise. Not wanting to break the moment so he went right back to it. Carrying you to the bedroom.

He dropped you down on the bed getting on his knees this time in front of you. Finally breaking your embrace. Hurrying to pull off the little shorts you were wearing. Panties coming off with it. “No more clothes at bedtime,” he mumbled putting his lips on your thigh. Something about him seemed so thirsty.

Like he was dying to lap at your- as soon as his tongue touched you it was like you melted. Sinking down into the mattress. “Steve!” You moaned.

Hands going to his hair. Nails digging into his scalp. Steve groaned against you. Taking long licks from the bottom of your pussy to your clit. “Cant believe he wouldn’t eat you out. What a fucking loser.” Steve pulled away to laugh. Using his thumb against it now. “Taste so good.”

Going back to putting his mouth on you. Mouth falling open as you laid back back. Arms going above your head as you cried out. Shit. Between him and Bucky you can’t believe you’d settled for less for so long.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, getting louder as that familiar. Snap ran through you. “You’re gonna make me- you’re gonna- I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me-,” you said hips moving back and forth.

His pointer finger rubbed your entrance only turning the intensity up. Made worse when he pushed it inside of you. Middle finger joining soon after. Making you yelp as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“I’m fucking cumming!” Your eyes rolled into back of your head as it finally happened. Couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Had interrupted Bucky before he could properly get you off and you’d been so pent up ever since. Needed this so bad.

“That’s it, Baby,” he hissed pulling away as you squirted into his hand. “That’s our fucking girl.” You tried to close your legs, but all Steve did was yank them open. Clearly hungry for you as he went back to what he was doing.

Soon enough he stood up. Unbutton his shirt wanting to sit up to help, but all you could do was convulse before him. He smirked down at you. Enjoying the view of you clearly stuck in ecstasy. Wanted to know what else he could get out of you. Dying to feel you wrapped around him.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he said kneeling down in front of you. Now naked and ready to give you every single inch.

He rubbed his dick against your slit. Making you mewl for him. How the hell could he expect you to say words right now. “I need it so bad, Daddy. Please fuck me,” you begged.

Didn’t need to ask twice. Steve lined up with you. Tip against your slit. Leaning back down to kiss you. Making you taste yourself on his tongue. Nails digging into his back as he finally slid inside.

Mouth forming into an ‘o’ as he did. “Fuck,” he breathed.

It felt like he’d filled you the brim. Too much for you to take and not enough at the same time. Face screwing up as he threaded his biceps under your legs to spread you open wider.

“Fuck me,” you begged. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He put his forehead against yours as he thrusted into you. “Look at me,” another growl falling from his lips as you closed your eyes. That look was back. The lust. The need. “Knew you’d have good pussy. Pussy worth waiting for. Can’t believe you’d been wasting it on that asshole. Needed real men to handle you.”

“Yes,” you moaned. His lips going to your neck as you raked your nails up and down his back. The two of you breathing heavy as he rocked deeply inside of you. Legs wrapping around him. Lips going to his shoulder.

It all happened so fast when he rolled over to pull you on top. “Ride me, Baby,” he grabbed your hips so he could start rocking you on top of him. Throwing your head back as you got on your feet. Moving up and down.

“You’re too big!” You cried. Not like you hadn’t been expecting that it’s just shit this was a lot to handle.

“Oh come on. You can take it you’ve got it. You’ll make daddy proud. You know I don’t like quitters.”

You moaned at his words as he put his hands in your hair again. Making you bend towards him so he could kiss you again. Smacking your ass and then gripping it.

You looked between the two of you seeing you hadn’t even slid down all the way. Almost scared to make an attempt but the choice was made for you as he wrapped his arms around your hips to slam you down.

It felt like he’d split you in half at any minute. Couldn’t he see that he was breaking you. Though you were sure if you asked him, he’d say he didn’t care. And at this point you weren’t sure if you did either.

As your orgasm began to hit, thoughts had clearly left your brain. Putting your face into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna make me cum again.” Practically weeping from the overstimulation.

This time as he changed positions, pushing you back on your back. Head laying at the foot bed. Needing to be the one in control. “Gonna let me fuck you whenever I want, huh?”

“Uh huh,” was the most you could muster.

“My little play thing?” He smirked, but faltered as he moaned out. “Feel so fucking- gonna make me cum too.”

“Uh huh!” You moaned again, eyebrows scrunching up.

“Gonna make me cum in you, Baby. Fuck. Want it so bad. Want daddy’s cum don’t you.”

If you were in your right mind you would have definitely been telling him to pull out, but you were much too overwhelmed. Unable to think as he fucked into you. So close to cumming on his dick. Wanted it more than anything. Wanted to-

“Ah!” You screamed, putting your face into his sweat covered neck as you came around him. Hips bucking wildly into him as the shocks ran through you.

“That’s it, Babygirl,” he hissed. “That’s fucking it. Cum for me.”

You put your hand to your mouth, silencing yourself. Chest racking with sobs. As badly as Steve wanted to reach up to rip it away he found himself too caught up in his pleasure.

A growl curdling in his throat to come out as a, “Fuck, Babygirl,” as he chased his own orgasm. Even catching himself off guard when he pulled out to rip you onto your back. Not giving you much time to register anything either as he pushed back into you from behind. “Fuck,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he gripped your hips.

“Daddy!” You finally let out a scream, unable to hold yourself up. Collapsing so your ass was still in the air with your back arched.

From this angle it just seemed that you somehow felt even better. The way you wrapped around him was making him dizzy. Found himself unable to stop from giving into his primal urges as he rutted his cock into you as few as he could go.

“C’mon, Babygirl,” he hissed. “Give me one more. You can do it for me. Do it for Daddy, Baby. You know what I fucking want.”

It was like he couldn’t control his mouth and you were fully under his spell. Drinking in his words. Letting them tingle in your ear until they added to the shockwaves shooting down to your core.

Especially as he laid down on top of you. Feeling so much bigger than usual even in stature. Wrapping his arm around your neck so he could pull you in. Having his ear to your lips, “Take it, Y/N. Take it,” he spoke like he was delirious, feel like he was getting even heavier with each movement until he could finally get his knot into you.

The invasiveness made you jump. Not able to go anywhere as he’d had you trapped under him. Letting out a deeper growl as he finally let go inside of you. Hips still moving as he gave you his seed. Knot ensuring that all of it would stay deep inside your pretty little cunt.

Even with the strange sensation, you relaxed into it as he slowed. Unable to fight him. Didn’t even want to. Felt like you couldn’t after the initial shock. Steve still staying on top of you as he finally came to a stop. Breathing heavy into the crook of your neck. Eyes getting heavy with each breath.

A part of you wondering what the hell just happened, but too fucked out to speak. Or form a real thought. Especially when he kept shifting his hips as he was still inside of you. Small whimpers escaped your throat from how sensitive you were.

“Steve,” you sniffled wishing the two of you were the other way. Feeling like you needed to hold onto him.

It was like he got the hint even if he didn’t bother to move. Still feeling him swollen inside of you, through slowly softening.

His arms wrapped around you tightly. Lips going to your cheek to place a kiss on it. “Shhh, Baby. It’s ok. I’m right here. Relax,” he said into your ear. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. You didn’t such a good job for me.”

As Steve whispered sweet nothings to you, Bucky stayed in the back of your mind. Can’t believe he was still out. Shit. What the hell were you supposed to do now.

Even then it wasn’t like you could focus on worrying. Steve finally making you drift off to sleep. Getting settled underneath him with no thoughts in your brain.

——————————————————

Can’t be too much of a party if one of you was asleep now could it. His jaw dropping at Steve as he smacked the man’s shoulder. “Could have at least waited!” He laughed. Not like he was one to talk.

After he finally pulled his knot from you, he was quick to get up. Making sure to tuck you in before getting up to clean up after himself. Not bothering to put any clothes on. As if Bucky hadn’t seen all of him by now.

Steve smirked, taking a sip of water. “You could have joined in at anytime.”

Bucky poured a second glass of whisky. Before handing it to his boyfriend who accepted. “Wanted to, but i had a lot of fun watching.” Before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Fuck. You even taste like her.” He hissed.

And it was true. He really could have, but every time he tried to move a muscle he find him glued to his spot. Watching you both through the crack in the door. Hand fisting his dick until he came against the wall that would definitely need cleaning. Then he kind of wanted to wait for you to do it. Your fault anyway.

Couldn’t bring himself to look away from the best porn he’d ever seen. Right in front of his face. All his fantasies coming true. The man of his dreams fucking the shit out of girl of his dreams what else could he ask for. And watching how well you took it even as you got overwhelmed, fuck why would he have ever looked away.

That’s why as he started to appreciate Steve’s super Solider stamina as he got hard in his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of your pussy on out. He could do with letting Steve feel like a cocky bastard with two cock hungry sluts begging for his dick tonight.

The problem is that you were right there, in the middle of their bed. Freshly fucked out after taking your first knot. While he would have liked to be the one to give that to you, he was also fine with Steve’s sloppy seconds.

Which is why he couldn’t help himself as he started kissing on your thighs. Salivating at the sight of his boyfriend’s cum only making your pretty little pussy look even prettier. Of course he had to taste you. Who better to clean you both up but him.

“Buck?” You asked in a tired voice, eyes blurring and then slowly adjusting. Fear shooting through your body, that only turned to confusion as he rubbed his thumb slowly over your tender clit.

“I hope and and Steve had fun together, Doll,” he said before licking your hole.

Because it was only just the beginning.

#fics by AFBH #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky Barnes x reader #stucky smut #stucky x you #stucky x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #Steve rogers x you x Bucky Barnes

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saetoru · 2 years ago

Note

Tee imagine being vash’s first kiss :(

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FIRST — VASH THE STAMPEDE.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ vash has never fallen in love—not before you, that is (2.1k words)

☽ contents ⋮ mutual pining, slightly jealous vash (of nicholas), confessions, fluff

☽ notes ⋮ i don’t even think this has anything to do with the ask anymore LMAO i got carried away but here <3

“nico, get your grimy fingers off my share,” you huff, shoving nicholas’s fingers away from the last few bites of your lunch.

food is scarce these days—more so than usual, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you finally find a place to grab a bite. vash eyes you as your lips are curled into a soft frown, the crinkle of your brows making his throat dry—because you’re cute, even with a look of pure irritation on your face, you’re soft and angelic and you make his heart skip a beat.

“c’mon, give me a bite or two,” nicholas chuckles, sneaking his way back to reach for your share of food, “you try carrying that big ol’ cross around all day.”

this time, you slap his hand away, huffing as you shift closer to vash to put extra distance between you and nicholas. vash has to keep himself from leaning in when he feels the warmth of your body radiate against him at the proximity.

“oh, you’re such a jackass, y’know?” you grumble, rolling your eyes at the easy chuckle nicholas gives you. but vash can see it—the beginnings of a smile you try (and fail) to fight back as you shake your head. “you’re the one who insists on carrying such a flashy weapon.”

“well it saved your pretty little head a few times didn’t it?” he shoots back. nicholas is easy to talk to like that, banter filling the air between you as you dance around each other with petty taunts and sly grins and stolen touches through pokes to the forehead.

vash thinks the only time he’s ever touched you is to pull you away from danger. in fact, he thinks it’d be easier to fight off an entire city after him than pluck the courage to reach out and flick your forehead the way nicholas does. it’s so smooth, so simple, so natural—and he can from tell the way your eyes soften for nicholas that it must be love.

he glances down at his food, feels his appetite dwindle and his chest tighten, and soon enough there’s an extra share of food pressed to your hand as he stands up.

“i’m not hungry,” he smiles softly, “you have it.”

you blink for a moment before opening your mouth to protest. “but vash—”

he’s off before you can finish talking, climbing into the van and closing the door while everyone stares after his figure and blinks. you frown, looking back at nicholas who only grins wider, holding a hand out for the half eaten dinner in your hold.

“well, don’t be greedy. share the goods,” he insists.

you roll your eyes, pulling away from his outstretched hand as you glare at him.

“something’s wrong,” you announce. meryl and roberto share a look, glancing quickly between you and nicholas again before continuing eating, making your brows furrow. “you guys know, don’t you?”

“everyone does, sweet cheeks,” nicholas chuckles, shaking his head, “you’re a bit more oblivious than i thought.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you glare, but he only eyes you with amusement, turning back to finish the last few bites of his dinner before standing up and walking off, mumbling about needing a smoke under his breath.

you stare back at the van, unsure whether or not you’re supposed to go after vash—whether or not he even wants you there. it takes you a few moments of contemplation before you ultimately stand up, earning a look from meryl and a sigh from roberto.

“i’m gonna go after him,” you announce.

it doesn’t take long to walk up to the van and climb in, finding vash sitting slouched on his side of the back seat, looking out the window. he almost looks…defeated—it’s a type of vash you don’t think you’ve ever really seen.

“vash?” you ask softly, making him tense for a moment before he glances at you, offering a poor attempt of a reassuring smile.

you don’t think vash has ever successfully hidden an emotion ever in his life. for as long as you’ve known him—though it’s not been that long—he’s worn his heart on his sleeve and his emotions bared before you whether he means to or not. you sit down beside him, staring at your lap as he stares out the window again.

“hey,” he says quietly, “why aren’t you with everyone else?”

“why aren’t you?” you counter gently.

“ah, well,” he chuckles nervously, painfully aware of how close your knees are from brushing, “just wanted to sit. and think, i guess,” he says quietly.

“about what?”

“just stuff,” he mumbles.

he doesn’t want to tell you he thinks about how he must be in love with you, doesn’t want to admit as much when you’ve clearly got someone else in your heart. vash has never fallen in love—but he thinks if he’d have to give the feeling a label, it’d be you.

he thinks it has to be love when the first pair of eyes he searches for are yours, making sure you’re okay before he even thinks about checking on anyone else. what else could it be besides love when even if for a split second, the very thought of you being in danger makes his gun leave its holster and ready to aim. if not love, he’s not sure what else it could be when he’s so nervous around you, he feels words stick to his throat like he’s choking.

vash has never fallen in love before, but there’s no mistaking this feeling now that it hits him.

you’re kind—maybe a bit more than you should be to him since he does nothing but drag you into danger. the rational part of him wishes you’d stop coming with him wherever he goes, it hopes you’ll see you have so much to live for outside of cleaning up his messes. the more desperate part of him feels nauseous at the idea of you going your separate ways—he can protect you, can’t he? the desert is a dangerous place with or without him and if you’re in danger one way or another, you should stick by his side where he can keep an eye on you.

no, vash has never been in love—but he’s sure as hell seen it happen before his own two eyes in the many, many years he’s lived.

and he knows you’re in love with nicholas with one painful glance.

“c’mon vash,” you nudge his shoulder with your own, “we’re friends, i know you better than that. something’s wrong. are you upset about what those people in that last town said to you? because i’ll march right up to them and give them hell and back if—”

friends.

he’s tuned you out, too hyper focused on that awful burning sensation pooling in his chest, the one that hits him as soon as you use that cruel word. of course vash is just your friend, why wouldn’t he be? he can’t remember the last time someone actually wanted him around at all let alone as something more.

he doesn’t even notice your hand reaching for his until it lays over his fist, gently unclamping it from the fabric of his coat. he doesn’t even notice he’s been fisting it this whole time, doesn’t even notice his shoulders are tense until you lean your head on it.

“you don’t have to tell me,” you murmur gently, “i’ll wait here with you.”

“why?” he can’t help but ask, can’t help but wonder why you care to spend your time here when you could be there. with nicholas. without him.

“because i care about you.” you say it like it’s obvious, like he should already know that.

perhaps he does—you do care about him, he can see it with the way you help clean his wounds and scold him for being reckless…just maybe not in the way he wishes you would.

“are you ever going to tell nicholas how you feel?” he asks.

you sit up, shock on your face and a crease in your brows as you stare at him in bewilderment. he almost thinks he’s asked something out of line, something he should apologize for. but before he can offer you a stuttered apology, you beat him to it.

“what?” you chuckle. “do i look like i feel something for nicholas?”

“you don’t?” he sounds shocked, making you blink.

“no,” you shake your head, grimacing like the idea is an unpleasant one. “he’s a nuisance i tolerate at best.”

“oh,” is all he says, surprised. it’s silent for a moment before he hesitantly asks, “is…is there someone?”

he doesn’t want to know the answer either way. yes means the pain of knowing there’s someone else he has to let you go to. no means it’s not him even with no one else to compete with at all. but he figures whether your answer is yes or no, it’s enough to force him to let go.

“well…” you hesitate for a moment, inhaling before letting out a shaky breath and slumping back to his shoulder, “can i be honest?”

“of course,” he says instantly.

“i don’t know how you’ll take it,” you admit quietly, and he can hear the slight shakiness in your voice—like you’re nervous, like what you’re about to say will change everything.

but vash knows no matter what you’ll say, no matter what you’ll ever do, he’ll still keep loving you even if you don’t need him to.

“is it embarrassing?”

“no,” you shake your head, “well, maybe a little. depends on how you react. i might look stupid.”

“can’t be worse than running out of bullets,” he smiles softly, “i bet i looked pretty stupid then.”

“a little,” you admit, giggling. and then you both laugh softly, your cheek against his shoulder and your hand gently clasped over his. distantly, you can hear nicholas ask where you are—and you know it’s not long before you’ll lose this rare moment alone. so you take a deep breath, stare at your hand over his as you mumble, “i think i love you. a little. actually, that’s a lie—a lot. like, a whole lot.”

he blinks.

he feels his breath hitch and your shoulders tense and his heart race all at once. for a second he thinks he might’ve heard you wrong—but then you whisper how you understand if he doesn’t feel the same way, how it’s okay, really! you understand, it’s not his fault and you can still be friends because you’re fine with friends. just as long as he’s still in your life because he’s important to you and friends is better than nothing at all.

and then he cuts you off with a soft chuckle, making you pause and glance up at him with doubt on your face.

“can i be honest too?” he smiles gently, melting your heart even as it shatters just a little in your chest.

“of course,” you whisper.

“i love you too. not a little though. a lot. i thought you had a thing for nicholas, though—”

“nico is rude and smells like smoke. i wouldn’t kiss him if my life depended on it,” you interrupt with a crinkle of your nose, making him chuckle with bright eyes and love scribbled over the curves of his features.

he leans in, presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes when your hand cups a cheek gently.

“good,” he murmurs, “but don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe. your life will never depend on kissing him.”

“good,” you hum, “because i only want to kiss you.”

and then you do, slow and sweet and so in love. it’s his first kiss—he doesn’t really know what to do, but he follows your lead and learns fast, soft lips molding with yours and mingling your warm breath with his. vash doesn’t even care he’s gone this long without feeling something as gentle as being in love. he’s in love now, with you—and he’s glad you love him too and not nicholas wolfwood, the man who keeps trying to steal dinner from under your nose.

“are you two done in there already?” nicholas is pounding on the door, making you pull away with a sour look on your face. “we got places to be. better not be baby making where i’m about to sleep.”

“can’t you make one exception and kill him?” you whine, making vash chuckle before he leans to kiss you again, more chaste this time. and again, and again.

vash has never fallen in love—and he’s sure it’s because he was meant to wait this long to fall in love with you.

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#vash x reader #vash x you #vash fluff #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede fluff #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede x you #trigun stampede fluff

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moonstruckme · 11 months ago

Note

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say.

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.

“A date?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”

“And you…don’t want to have sex.”

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

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nicromancytarot · 6 months ago

Text

DESCRIBING YOUR SOUL TRIBE PART 2

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides about your soul tribe (again) and how you will know that you’ve met them, pick a pile and find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

Your soul tribe will come to you during a time when you feel lost and alone, you may be around superficial friends, I’m hearing “financial” so these previous friends could abuse or exploit you financially. You will be having a really hard time before you meet them, I think this will last for around 2-4 weeks, and you will notice a mental shift in your head. One second you appreciate your current friends and are willing to look past the many issues, and the next you’re in need of comfort and feel sick, possibly physically when you’re around them.

You may meet these people through some type of transaction, you may meet them when you’re at work and possibly serving them, or perhaps you’re at the same shop buying something. Even if not, it could be you have to work with them for a school or work project, something where you all gain from. With how random these meeting will be, you may feel picky and almost against making new friends and meeting new people, you could possibly feel as though the universe is giving you another lesson. These people may keep an eye on you when you meet, they may notice something energetically up with you, and feel the need to protect you or as if they have a duty of care. I heard the word “dirty” so heavy on people playing dirty with you.

I see that they will comfort you, and you will be willing to let go of those that don’t matter to you anymore, you could think that old friends do mean something for a little, but they will help you put it into perspective, and eventually walk away from the people who don’t deserve you.

I’m getting these people as only friends, possibly 2-3 people, no romantic soulmates for this pile, only platonic.

PILE 2

I feel as though you guys will meet your soul tribe at at time of heavy isolation, I’m weirdly getting that some of you could be grounded? Lmao. I think you’re going to be making a commitment during this time, I assume to some type of work or job, there’s something that you’re trying to raise money for. For a lot of you, I assume these people will be online friends, I definitely feel as though there will be a distance between you guys, very much physically rather than mentally.

When meeting these people, you’ll need to have a lot of patience with yourself don’t doubt what you deserve, the universe is very much making way for those people to enter. For you guys, I think it’s going to be important to have a mental glow up, you need to focus on what you need mentally, rather than what you want.

There could be a possibility for relocation, some of you may actually end up moving over to the areas in which your soul people live. If you do not move away to another place, then your soul tribe is going to help you cut ties from ex friends, relationships (I heard “husbands” too.) Their main purpose is to help you move on from those who don’t serve you in the place where you are at.

From this, a few of you may end up in relationship, you could either meet someone through these friends, or you could meet them as one of these friends, continue a friendship for a while and then end up together eventually. I feel like it’s important to say that you will not ruin the friendship between anybody if you decide to date this person, this is a very much long term, if not forever relationship.

You’ll know you’ve met these people when you feel as though your life has been completed and you are surrounded only by people who keep you safe and protected. When you are able to fall asleep next to one of these people, or when you feel as though your brain has quieted down, that’s how you’ll know.

PILE 3

I feel as though you guys will meet your soul tribe during a time of change, at a point where you are letting the light guide you, this light may be spirituality for a lot of you, for the rest of you I think it’s your intuition. You’re surrendering to the feeling of trusting the universe and where it will take you. At this point when you let go of control and stress, that’s when these people enter your life.

For you, it will be a mix of either men and women, or masculines and feminines. The time when these people become important to you will be when you begin a new project, for some of you you may open a business, become higher up in your job, and end up hiring people for your business, or getting to know more people at your job. I see you guys working together a lot, particularly building something new - so I’m really feeling that for the majority of you, this is a business that you are running, and hiring individuals to help you out. Your work family will become more than a work family for sure.

These people may even help you out with your identity, the mixture of masculine and feminine energies, whether fully male, female, or a mix of all - will help you find out who you want to be. There may be a couple of people, particularly feminines that you look up to, and you may even lowkey idolise before you come full circle and become friends with them.

As the same with pile 1, you may feel physically sick, tired, confused, mentally exhausted the few weeks before getting up and beginning to become the person who you want to be. Don’t lose hope when you feel like this, this is just a sign of change and a massive switch, it will suck in the moment, however it will be so good in the long run.

I don’t think you guys will find a romantic partner through this group, I feel as though that may be a separate thing that will come along either soon after, or perhaps soon before.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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delugguk · 2 years ago

Text

is this okay?

pair: jungkook x reader

rated: mature

word count: 1.7k

warnings: sexual content.

Part two.

autor’a note: helllooooooo I know it’s been a while and since I haven’t finished my many fics that I have (I know, k word me pls but don’t, actually skdj) this live (or more like the way he looks) made me go kinda feral for him so I had to do this !! this is compleeeetely unedited because I wrote it super fast and I’m just posting it as it is !! with nothing more to say, I miss and love every single one of you that keep coming back to my stories or just finding out about it, believe me when I say I appreciate every single one of you, even if you’re new!! you’re here for a reason 🫶🏼 thank you for liking my stuff and I’ll be more open to you guys later since I one to make a while make over on this account lmaO, anyways, enjoy and let’s get feral together while kook’s cook his album🤍🧚🏼✨

~*^~*~^~*~^*~~^*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*^~*~^~*~^~*

you blame it on him.

he didn’t had to seat like that, stare at you like that and even bite his lower lips like that. it was something so subtle and you swore his eyes glistened so much, you could almost mistaken them for desire.

but what if..?

no.

you needed to control yourself. you promised you wouldn’t be jumping his bones the moment he called you to make him some company. you know you two are close friends.

but damn.

can’t deny the massive sexual attraction that’s so intense with only doing something so innocent as much as sinful like eye contact.

it’s crazy.

or at least that’s what you think.

jungkook can be complicated at times. but, fuck. you suddenly remember his fainted voice when talking to that girl. “sure, but can you handle me?”. you didn’t know what he or they were referring to, you were just trying to pass by in those big echoing college halls.

of course, you thought about— the worst.

he was fine as hell, okay? to say he isn’t fucking around just makes NO sense.

but the day you met him or—no. the day you two met at that reunion.. fuck. just thinking about it already makes your pussy pop. how embarrassing.

he looked so fine.. he teased you just right.. ugh! stupid hormones! why does it have to be so rich to have sex.. you wanted to fuck him here and there. a little dance could do so much..

“..y/n?”

suddenly you’re back to earth. (with a flaming pussy as we speak).

“yeah?” disconnected, you blink once again. jungkook just smirks.

“I told you, not to worry about it. just come seat,” he pats his side of the sofa, two times. “next to me.”

stupid beanie, stupid white shirt and stupid tattoos.

why does he has to look so cute and fine at the same time? not only that but the way he smelled? a fucking perfect man. who the hell smells that good? it isn’t even a strong essence but rather a soft/sexy one..

“no.” oh.. you can’t help yourself anymore. “I want to seat here.” you said as each of your legs takes place beside his waist.

yep, you boldly seated on top of him. just like that.

it’s not that you do this often but jungkook didn’t seemed to reject your body language as soon as he holded your hips with both of his hands. somehow delicate but oh, so decisively.

that caused a whole electricity run over your entire body to the point you almost felt goosebumps if it wasn’t that already.

just.. how much did you really wanted him? seemed out of limits..

both of your palms rest on his shoulders and there’s no words but an intense eye contact full of temptation, desire.. all of the words you can imagine referencing to the same feeling you both were having right now.

what’s stopping you two? why don’t you move? why doesn’t he move? those were your thoughts until-

“it’s dangerous.” he mutters. you’re just biting your lips.

gosh, you wanted him right here, right now.

“eung” you say, but it sounded a little too sexy(horny) for jungkook’s ears and damn, did he liked that.

“eung?” but as he mimics the way you sounded (just a little more dominant) was enough for you to start moving your hips to his already increasing bulge. mm. it felt good.

you grab his neck as you move very slowly but surely as he looks at you with those dark shiny eyes slightly pulling his face towards the area where your boobs could make contact with him.

he acts fast into giving light, delicate but needy kisses through your also white crop top. the one that can mark how hard your nipples are just right.

you moan a little, more like a very hot exhale that makes jungkook go crazy internally. the way for him to expresses is to squeeze the side of your hips, right enough for you to take your shirt off.

“no bra..” he smirks. “just how I like.”

“mhmm” you slightly moan once again to acknowledge his words.

his hands immediately take a ride feeling you up from your curves, belly, ribs and finally, your boobs. his hands feeling so warm, so right as soon as he touched you. feeling like it could burn, it felt divine. it was to the point where you weren’t the only one that’s breathing so heavy but him.

kissing your nipples felt like heaven, his lip piercing somehow sort of cold made magic so you couldn’t help but take his shirt off, beanie staying on. you wanted him like that.

“I want to kiss you so bad.” breathless, you said.

“do it.” bold enough, he responds. “fuck me if you want. I’ll let you do anything tonight.”

“fuck.” you whisper. “jungkook..” hips intensifying its deep roll, still slow.

“take off your shorts. want you naked for me.”

you wanted to scream. (in many different meanings to it).

he follows you when you obey him so well, but instead of him going naked, he leaves his boxers on.

but you don’t mind, as soon as you caress the imprint of his hard dick drawing on his black Calvin Klein’s boxers. jungkook man spreads giving you the fucking gaze, while patting his well formed thighs and you’re crazy wet at this point. — as soon as you reveal his dick making a pop towards his lower stomach, you could feel yourself almost salivating for him.. and it’s something you’ll normally will feel embarrassing of, but with the way your pussy was crying for him.. yeah, a girl had to do what it gotta do.

“didn’t know how badly you wanted me..” he exhales. “guess I wasn’t the only one, fuck. come here.

pulling you and opening your legs towards him revealed how sticky you were in front of his eyes that jungkook couldn’t help but pass his dick through your entrance without dipping in yet.

“fuck..” he moans. “is this what you wanted? mm. how long were you waiting for this?” giving a little slap with his dick to your pussy. “and why didn’t you tell me earlier?” with hooded eyes, already looking like a mess.

god, was he gone and he hasn’t entered you yet.

you were almost to the point of crying with him barely starting. that’s how horny the both of you were.

“been wanting you for a while..” you’re breathing to exhale. it feels so good. “wanting to feel you just like this..”

“..raw?”

“mh-yeah.. fuck.”

he just stares at your expression for a moment, eyes closed, lips being caught up by your teeth.. pussy sliding so easily around his already wet hard dick.. it seemed so sexy the way you were moving. he wanted to eat you out when looking at you, but his need to finally be inside you was stronger.

“so do I..” he deeply answers as soon as he’s making your hips swallow his entire dick.

“agh, fffuck. it’s more of what I imagined.” he speaks more to himself.

you, on the other hand, was trying no to cum right there. breathing long and slowly to calm your pussy and feelings because somehow.. your heart started to felt as if it wanted to jump out of your body and you swear you could hear jungkook’s heart trying to do the same too.

“move.” he says, giving some gentle, little pats to your ass.

“give me a second-“ and after five seconds, you breathe and start rolling your hips back and forth. all you could hear was your juices having fun.

but the moment you lean into him and hug him with your face into the side of his neck, is we’re things start to get fun and nasty when you actually start to bounce on him.

“fuck yes.” jungkook’s voice rasp into a very hot moan. “‘knew you were good.” he pauses. “fucking lucky I am.” after grabbing your ass and start manhandling you like his personal fuck toy.

“ah-“ a moan escaping your lips, you clench your teeth sucking air to it. “s-so g-good” and it’s just that you speak along marking the secuence of how he bounces you on him.

“mm I’m feeling you close, are you?”

“y-yeah”

—in a moment where you both got to cum, having jungkook fuck you still with his cum innit because he founded so sexy the way your pussy looked so swollen and messy (and how well you take him and squeezed him) having you cum once again, things weren’t so awkward afterwards. it all ended up rather having jungkook asking you things.

“I noticed you got more wet when I started to control your bounces..”

“I.. um, I like when someone sort of.. uses me like that like..” you lower your voice, “I’m all yours?”

jungkook smiles. “oh.. y/n you aren’t getting shy right now, aren’t you?”

“no!” you feel embarrassed.

“I think you are..” he teases.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes.

“don’t worry though. as I’ve said it before things.. turned out to be this way,” you both giggle. “don’t worry. and.. y/n?”

“eung?”

“believe me when I say that this isn’t going to be the last time of us doing this. I will always want this to happen again, and it will.” he pauses. “unless you don’t want me to.”

“okay.” it’s all you say but in reality you can’t explain to him how much do you agree with this because sure, if it was hard standing by his side without doing anything ever since that night or the day you met him.. with today’s events it’ll be even harder to not want to have a taste of him once again.

and again..

and again.

and that’s when it hits you. you never kissed him, he never kissed you and you’re completely screwed.

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guiltyreverie · 1 year ago

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Lollipops and cigarettes

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Content tags: established friends, slytherin!reader, no angst (i deserve a medal for this lmao)

Warning: mentions of drugs, suggestive content but no smut, just heavy foreplay

Prompt: "I know I signed up for this and all, but... if I die, it's still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you." (source)

Summary: Mattheo thinks it‘s fun to explore the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night

A/N: boy, the way I hop from one Riddle to another - i can fix him ykyk ok but these are shorter than other fics since theyre part of the prompt thingy I’m doing and I figured I should get started

Word count: 1.9k

You would kill him - you will kill him - if whatever is in here doesn’t kill you first and then you’ll kill yourself for letting him persuade you in the first place.

Mattheo disregarded many things, like his school work, attendance, relationships but you gotta leave it to him - he knew how to push your buttons and when he said he’d take Amara from the year below with him if you weren’t joining him, you snapped and agreed - looking at nothing but pitch blackness and the occasional rustle - that always scared the living shits out of you - you thought to yourself, he should’ve taken her.

You weren’t the type to get frightened easily but the eerie dread that filled you once you were so deep in you couldn’t even see Hogwarts anymore it was over and you almost jumped at every sound, your hand subconsciously reaching out for Mattheo only for him to give you the most shit-eating grin and tease your anxious behavior - Salazar knows why you like this idiot in the first place.

The unsteady path shaped by the trees seemed never ending and incredibly unnerving, even if you tried to see the end it was just pitch black.

“Come on, princess, ”, he pokes your side with his elbow and nudges his head forward, “who knows what’s waiting for us out there.”, he smirks and you scoff loudly and hit him, resulting in the leaves rustling in the trees and crows suddenly emerging with loud ‘craws’ and you almost shit yourself.

Subconsciously you hold on tighter to him to the point your chest touches his arm.

“I hate you, by Merlin’s beard, fuck you, Riddle.”, you whisper-shout into his ear; his head turns towards yours in a matter of a second, your face was already so close to his, your noses brushed together when he turned; you could feel his breath tingling on your lips.

Shivers ran down your spine - you were used to the tension that followed almost every interaction you had with Mattheo but this? This was on a different level - the both of you were alone in the woods, your body clinging to him and now you just had to move forward, not even two inches and you’d finally know how his lips taste - you bet like a mixture of lollipops and cigarettes.

He smirks and you could feel the ghost of his touch on your lips - you will breach the distance between you guys if he isn’t going to do it.

His hand reaches out for your hair and brushes a piece of it back behind your ear and you’re finally able to make out the shadows on his face, like his scar on his nose, or the scar on his right eyebrow, from the small light of the moonshine seeping through the branches of the tree and your breath hitches - he was smiling.

You knew you liked him and you knew how it felt to like someone but nothing could’ve prepared you for the way his smile accompanied by the soft glow of the moon on his face would make your insides explode; make you feel so warm - the former coldness of the forbidden forest long forgotten.

“Fuck me yourself, babe.”, he grins and the almost fairy tale-like illusion you just created in your head shattered - this is Mattheo fucking Riddle, by Salazar you still don’t know why you like him, of course he’d make a dirty jab at you.

You were about to roll your eyes and push him away but you had a better idea in your head; your hands reach for his jawline and you start to trace it, his small beard stubbles scratching your fingertips and you can see the way he gulps hard by his adams apple - his jaw clenched but a curious glint in his eyes - what are you doing? Your fingers start to trace the way down to his neck, followed by his collarbone towards his chest and abs until your fingers stop at his waistband; his eyes follow your touch in anticipation and curiosity but he hasn’t dared to utter a single word. You tug him closer towards you by his waistband and you reached up until your lips ghosted over his neck - right above the spot most girls would leave their hickeys on, you assumed it was his most sensitive spot; a few seconds later you make your way back to his ear, your lips graze his earlobe and you can hear his breath hitch and you smile: “Don’t mind if I do.”

He sucks in a deep breathe and gives you a warning glance: “Fuck, princess, unless you actually plan to follow up with that, don’t tease me like that.”

“Why not?”, you smile knowingly, Riddle might not be interested in romantic relationships but you knew the effect you could have on a man.

“I don’t think you want me to leave you alone right here because I have a hard business to take care of”, he glances down towards the dent on his crotch, your hand was still on his waistband and you let out a small giggle, “do you?”

“Let me take care of it, then?”, you give him your best doe eyes while your hands slowly pull on his waistband and you can almost see him come undone at the mere idea of you touching him - it made you feel powerful, hopeful and needy for him.

“Princess,”, his eyes darkened, he seemed to finally snap out of his trance and before you know it your back was pushed against a tree, Mattheo’s arms were wrapped around your waist and his forehead was leaning against yours, he was breathing heavily, as if he could barely contain himself - he looked at you like a starved prisoner, ready to finally devour you after he’s been denied for so long and god did it turn you on.

“Tell me off.”, he whispers against your lips, you start to wonder if you have to beg him to kiss you and you shake your head.

“Kiss me, Riddle.”

His lips immediately meet yours and you close your eyes leaning closer into him, wrapping your arms around his neck while he pulls you even closer by your waist. Earlier he looked like he could devour you and right now, he is, his one arm went up to your head and he started to slightly tug at your hair, not hard enough for it to hurt but hard enough to make your head go back and for you to let out an involuntary moan.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”, he breathes against the outer corner of your mouth and starts leaving sloppy kisses there as well.

His hands roam around your entire body until they find the back of your thighs and he starts to knead them slowly and you let out a small gasp at the sudden sensation of his big hands around your thighs, you were growing hotter and hotter, you wanted - scratch that- you needed this man, the tension in your core only growing stronger.

He lifts you up by your thighs, his lips never leaving your body, it felt he like was trying to engrave this feeling into his mind, and leans you against the wall, your crotch is right against his, your needy core almost immediately starts to rub against his hardened member and you let out a whimper.

He gently bites you in the neck and licks your most sensitive spot and you moan out his name.

“Baby”, he groans, “moan my name again”, his hands meet your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze and you moan out his name once more.

Just when he started to take off his shirt an alarm went off and you opened your eyes hazily.

“Fuck”, Mattheo curses and immediately puts his sweatshirt back on.

You have to take a deep breath to get back from the high you just felt and you give Mattheo a concerned look and breathily say: “What’s wrong?”

“Theo texted, there’s an emergency and they’re gathering all the students in the great hall.”, he bites his lips and you can’t help but almost completely disregard what he’s currently saying and only want to feel his lips on yours again.

“You’re staring.”

“Can’t blame me.”

He chuckles: “Now, princess”, he grabs your hand and starts pulling you back to where you had come from, “we gotta hurry before we get into big trouble for sneaking out.”, he gives you one last glance, and the current situation finally seems to dawn onto you and you start to freak out.

“Salazar, fuck, Mattheo, we’re so going to get a whole year of detention if they catch us.”, you bite your lip, the anxiety finally overshadowing your horny mind and you both hurry back to Hogwarts.

Out of breath you finally are inside the castle, skillfully evading any teachers or prefects and you can’t help but curse at him, the anxiety taking over - what if you’re too late?

"I know I signed up for this and all, but... if I die, it's still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you."

“Nobody is going to kill you.”, he chuckles.

You roll your eyes: “Clearly, you haven’t met my mother.”

“I’ll just swoon her off her feet, too.”, he smirks and you pretend to gag at him.

He checks his phone: “We’re fine, Theo says, they’re still gathering all the students.”

You sigh in relief: “Theo deserves the greatest head for warning us like this.”

He turns around to face you, almost as if you’re insane, like he can’t believe your audacity, his jaw clenched: “Do I need to remind you of who’s name you moaned 30 minutes ago?”

Your eyes narrow in confusion until you finally get it and you can’t help but smirk: “I meant a joint.”

“Oh.”, he looked dumbfounded.

“You jealous, baby?”

The both of you arrive at the Great Hall and before you can enter Mattheo grabs your arm and halts you from entering.

You stare at him confused and expectantly.

“This is more than just sex to me, princess.”, he looks at you, his eyes filled with so much vulnerability you soften at his words and your inside starts to fill with joy, you had hoped this is how it would be between you guys, even if you had been fine with just staying friends as well.

“I feel the same”, you smile at him and squeeze his hand.

He smiles back and you make your way into the Great Hall, the both of you skillfully and undetected make your way to your friends and stand next to them.

When they spot you they greet you with laughter and smiles, Theo winked at the both of you and all of you waited for the roll call, all while your hand never left Mattheos grasp.

“Y’know we’ll continue later, right?”, he whispers in your ear and when you turn around you’re met with his smug grin and the brightest shining eyes in the room and you smile feeling absolutely content and you can’t wait to taste the taste of lollipops and cigarettes again.

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 3 months ago

Text

give yourself a reason | m. murdock

a/n: hi guys. this is much different than what I promised you last time I posted and it's a lot different than what i usually post but i've been struggling so intensely with my depression and anxiety and genuinely the only thing that's gotten through it is "you can't kill yourself yet, you haven't seen daredevil born again" so i guess this is a fic about that lmao warnings: massive trigger warning for depression and suicidal thoughts, like just. pretty much the entire fic is the reader wanting to die and having bad mental health. besides maybe some cursing (but i cant recall) that's pretty much it. word count: 2.1k summary: the devil of hell's kitchen talks you off a ledge (literally) pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader now playing: call your mom - noah kahan "medicate, meditate, save your soul for jesus/throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason/don't wanna drive another mile without knowin' you're breathin'"

You are the light in a dark room for so many people.

You are the glue of your friend group—Constantly planning hangouts, constantly responding to text messages, you’re always there for people.

You visit the bodega at the corner every morning for a large coffee and to pet the bodega cat.

You bring donuts in to work every Friday, for no reason other to bring joy to people’s lives.

You have every reason to live.

You…

Are standing on the ledge of your building, wondering if you’d pass out before you hit the ground.

You’ve dealt with depression for years. It’s been an uphill battle since you were eleven, maybe even earlier. And it goes through phases—Sometimes, you just coexist with it. It lives in the corner of your brain, where a lamp or a soulmate should be. You know it’s with you, but sometimes it just sits on your shoulder, observing.

Other times, it shackles you. It weighs you down, pulling you down under the crashing waves, and every time you pull yourself up to breath, it drags you down faster, more relentlessly.

It’s an intense unfortune that you could blame on any number of things, and you have tried.

But things have been bad recently.

And it’s not that your life is particularly hard right now—There’s no looming deadlines, your relationships are all fine, you thought you were happy, really, but one day you woke up.. unable to come up with a reason.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve found a reason. For a long time you thought, no, I couldn’t do that to my mom. Then, you said if you could just make it to college, everything would be easier. And then, you figured if you could make it to New York City, you’d be able to cope with things.

And it worked for a while, but—

“Hey,” A voice says from behind you, “hey, just—take a step back.” The voice says, and you tilt your head back, trying to look at who has interrupted you in this vulnerable moment.

“Go away,” You demand, your voice harsh as you realize you are not dealing with just any old witness- The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stands behind you.

You know all about him. He popped up a year or two before you moved to the city, and you’ve always kind of daydreamed about him saving you—You’ve seen pictures and videos of him, glimpses of him.. But they’re just fleeting moments of a silly crush.

“You know I can’t do that,” He says, his voice getting closer. “I won’t do that.”

Then you feel tears in your eyes. Nothing can be easy, can it?

“Please,” You beg, “I’m not hurting anyone, I just.. want it to stop.”

“You are hurting someone. You’re about to hurt yourself and I won’t let that happen.” But he knows you won’t step away. And he doesn’t want to tackle you off the ledge.

“Please,” You say again, a shaky hand wiping your cheek, your heartbeat thumping out of your chest. You don’t want to die. You just don’t want to be in pain anymore.

“Let’s just sit,” he offers, his voice much closer to you now. “You don’t have to get off the ledge, just sit.” He requests.

“Look, devil man, I really don’t want you to give me some speech about how life is worth living, okay? Just—”

“We don’t have to talk about why you’re up here,” he says, “We can just sit.” From the corner of your eye, you see him sitting next to where you stand, his legs dangling over the edge.

He offers you a hand to help you sit down.

You take it.

And you’re not even sure why, because you don’t want to talk to this man, no matter how you admire what he does to other people. You sit next to him, and you feel yourself getting pulled down again, unable to breathe. Static fills your brain, repeating horrible things, telling you that everything for everyone would be easier if you just—

“Have you ever considered that Dr. Pepper could be a woman?”

“What?” You blink, now looking at him. What a ridiculous thing to say to a person who was about to kill themselves?

“Well, have you?”

“Uh.. No.” You answer, your face still twisted in confusion. “No, I’ve never considered that.”

“I always hear about people talking about this hypothetical doctor behind the soda, and they always refer to them as a man. Kind of messed up,” He shrugs.

“I don’t understand,” You respond honestly.

“I told you we didn’t have to talk about why you were up here, but I never said anything about not talking at all.”

You suppose he has a point.

“Okay.” You answer, feeling awkward now.

“Have you lived in the City long?” He wonders aloud.

“No,” You find yourself echoing the same story you’ve told a thousand times. “No, I moved here about a year ago.”

“Do you like it?”

Your stomach churns.

“Yeah.” You’re having a hard time being more descriptive than that.

“Have you been to see any good shows?” he asks, “Oh, have you seen Wicked?”

You’re confused again. You glance back at him. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is asking you if you’ve seen a Broadway musical about The Wicked Witch of the West. Much like the question about Dr. Pepper, you’re just extremely caught off guard, because it seems so out of character.

“Not in years.” You answer, “I saw it with my mom when I was younger.”

“Well you should see it again.” He said, “It’s really good, even better than you remember.” He promises.

“Why are you talking about this?” You answer, and he sighs.

“The confusion is on purpose,” He confesses, “I heard somewhere that if you can just distract someone having an episode, it might pull them out of it.”

You do feel.. better.. You suppose. You’ve been pulled above water, able to breathe, because in your confusion, there was no room for any static or bad thoughts to get in. Maybe better is a strong word, but there’s an absence of all of the intense thoughts that distracted you.

“Oh.. Thank you.” Is all you find yourself saying.

“I’m gonna go back on my promise,” he starts, “I need to ask you why you feel like this is your only option.”

Your shoulders fall a bit, remembering everything.

“You’re a liar.”

“Just try.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Tried what?”

“Verbalizing it, saying it all out loud?”

Well, now you feel silly. Very silly. You know a therapist might help, but you’ve been busy. And—

“You have your own problems,” You start, “I can’t ask you to take on my problems, too.”

“I asked you to talk about it,” he responds, “Besides, we don’t even know each other. You’re not burdening me, I promise.” And you’re inclined to believe him.

So, you take a deep breath and search for your words.

“I just can’t find a reason.” You start. “I’ve always been able to find a reason before, a reason to keep going, to push ahead, but..” You blink. “I just can’t find it. I’ve gone through all my usuals.”

“What about your mom?” he asks, recalling your earlier comment about him.

“She was the reason for a long time.” You confess, “But she has my stepdad now. Everyone’s taken care of. My friends, my siblings, my mom.. The only one who’s alone is me.”

The Devil doesn’t say it, but his heart aches for you.

“People would miss you,” he recalls his own depression, “They’d grieve you as intensely as they love you.” He reminds, and you know that.

“They’d find a way to move on.” You reason, “They’d have to figure it out.”

“How long have you been dealing with these feelings?”

“As long as I can remember.” You respond, “I thought if I could survive my childhood, it would stop. Moving here, that was supposed to be the end, but..” You frown. “After the honeymoon phase, I’m just back in that hole.”

“There’s ways to get you out of that hole,” He promises.

“How?” You demand, tears filling your eyes, “Tell me a reason I should keep going that I haven’t heard, that I haven’t thought, that actually gets through to me,” You ask.

He pauses. It’s a tall order.

“You know there’s no magical cure.” He starts, “But you find the little things. You can’t find any big reason to live? Fine. Find the small reasons,” He reasons, “The way sun feels on your skin, your favorite team winning a game, a homecooked meal.”

“Give me a big reason.” You request.

“I can hear heartbeats,” he says, and when you scoff, he shakes his head, “No, seriously. So, here’s your big reason: Don’t make me listen to your heart stop beating.”

It’s a low blow. A hit to your core, right to the part of you that feels guilty you even have these feelings.

“Let me walk you home.” He says after a moment.

“I live in this building,” You say, and for a moment, you almost think that the Devil tenses, like he hadn’t realized that.

“Then let me walk you to your apartment. It’s cold out here, c’mon.” He offers.

“How do you know I won’t just do it tomorrow? Or after you leave?”

“I trust you,” And somehow you don’t believe him. But he swings his legs around and stands on the solid ground of the roof. He offers his hand to you again. “Let’s go inside.”

You take his hand and let him guide you off the ledge, and it only takes a few steps for you to start crying—truly sobbing at the idea of what you were about to do. The Devil is right; tonight won’t be the night.

And as soon as he listens to you start sobbing, his arms are around you like he’s known you your entire life. He’s warm, safe. His hand gently rubs your back, his pointer finger running up and down your spine. The Devil gives wonderful hugs, it reminds you of hot soup on a winter day, the first hot day of spring after a long winter, and a memory from before depression reared it’s ugly head at you, of being three, maybe four years old on Christmas Eve, wrapped in blankets, safe and loved, with a full stomach of food.

You don’t know him, but you know right then and there that you’ll be grateful to him forever.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice like a lullaby, “You’re okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” You can tell he means the words, that they aren’t obligatory, but genuine. He’ll look after you. He lets you cry into his shoulder for a long time, reminding you to breath.

When there’s no tears left to cry, The Devil gently pulls away, his hand now on your cheek as he wipes away the tears that run down your face.

And there’s only one thing left to say,

“Let me take you home.” He says gently. And you nod, words escaping you. You walk with him down to your apartment, letting him tuck you into bed after drinking some water. As you wait for sleep to find you, he gently brushes hair from your face as he asks, “Promise me you’ll call someone tomorrow. A therapist, a help line, your mom. Promise me you’ll find the help you need. Promise me you’ll find a reason.”

Studying his features, since, you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you nod.

“I promise.”

He leans forward and kisses your forehead. It’s foreign. Welcomed. Paternal.

“Good. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” You request, and you see the corners of his lips twitch up.

“I’ll tell you what,” He starts, “I’ll come visit you tomorrow night, too. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saves people—but not everyone needs to be saved in the same way.

He waits for you to fall asleep before he leaves, breaking the lock on the door up to the roof so you can’t get up there, not until they fix it. Then, he makes his way to the window on the other side of your floor, to the apartment down the hall from yours.

He crawls into the window and pulls off his cowl, before showering, and then crawling into bed. He hopes you’ll find a reason, but he knows he’ll show up again if you can’t. That’s just the type of person he is.

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