#i mean nothing was cleared up my end but it got me thinking | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lustspren · 13 days ago

Text

D.A | I Hate Everything About You ft Wonyoung.

length: 9.6k words✦

Wonyoung & Male Reader.

🔙 Previous update | 📄 I Hate Everything About You |

genres: HATE sex, rough sex, bdsm, daddy kink, squirt, overstimulation, really dirty facefuck, creampie, facial, degradation, dirty talk, kinda enemies to lovers ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Are you sure? One hundred percent?” you asked, sitting in your desk chair with the phone to your ear. You had finished a six-hour stream a few minutes ago.

“Of course!” Yujin replied from the other end of the line. “I already made sure the staff got you a room at our hotel. You have no excuse!”

You sighed, rolling your chair back and turning it to face the wall. Helios was sleeping on top of the bookshelf where you had all your action figures, next to a Blood Raven Space Marine.

“Yujin-ah, I’m serious, I don’t want to have any problems when I arrive,” you said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for a room myself?”

The reason for the argument was that she, Liz, and Rei had invited you to see their performance at the Golden Wave in Tokyo. The idea had of course been born from Yujin, and her insistence left you no choice but to accept. But it still wasn’t that easy; you had to sort out some logistics first, as always.

“No! Don’t even think about it, Ezio!” Yujin said, in a tone you knew was best not to refute. “Just trust me. Has a tragedy ever happened because of that?”

“A year ago you made Rei and I believe that your manager wouldn’t find out you were spending the night with me after the concert, guess who got told off the next day?”

“But that wasn’t my fault!” she protested. “I had no way of knowing!”

“But it happened. I just answered your question.”

Yujin snorted, and you smiled. Getting on her nerves was pretty easy and fun.

“Are you going to accept my offer or not?”

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, and turned back to your computer to push your chair forward. “I’ll buy the ticket right now.”

You heard Yujin exhale in relief as you searched for the airline’s website.

"The hotel is the Hyatt Regency. I think we'll get there around 2pm."

"Okay," you replied, scheduling the flight. "But I'll go the day before."

"Why?"

You sighed.

"I'd say it's for shopping, but I spent way too much on my two trips to Italy in the past two months. I need to get back on my feet."

"You went again?" Yujin asked. "I thought you already went to Rome in October with the NewJeans girls."

"I mean, that was a one-night binge," you finally bought the ticket and stood up, walking out of your office. "This, on the other hand, was a mini vacation."

"Mini vacation? Where, with who?" she asked again, as you headed straight to the kitchen to grab a drink and some leftover poke you had left in the fridge.

"Woah," you chuckled, going to sit at the dining table. "You sounded just like Nana. Scary."

"Hey! I have a right to know!"

"Yeah yeah, I'll tell you when I see you, it's a long story."

"Yeah, you better."

"Hey, I gotta go," you said, opening a can of Pepsi. "I'm going to eat and then I have a work meeting."

"Okay! See you in a few days then?"

"If nothing weird happens, yeah."

"Alright! Bye oppa!"

"Bye Yujinie."

Yujin hung up, and as you ate your poke you checked your text messages. You had from Sohyun, from Hanni, and of course, from Nana.

Nana was honestly amazing. She could just ask that from the first text, but no, she loved it and begged for your attention. Incredibly, it was like that from the first day you met her, when she did that challenge with Sullyoon at the Music Core and she cast a spell on you that three months later you still couldn't shake.

You didn't even bother to answer her at that moment. You rushed to finish eating, fed the cats as well, and ran to take a shower to attend your meeting with Sony.

In the end, that trip to Tokyo turned out to be extremely productive. Sony executives had made it clear that a face-to-face meeting would be extremely necessary to discuss all the details about your collaboration, and by putting your trip to Japan on the table, it was easy to arrange a time and place.

Unfortunately, that meant you had to make a flight change in order to get to Japan as soon as possible, and from around 8 in the morning you were already in Tokyo on your way to the meeting. That was basically the whole day for you, since obviously, releasing a custom line of speakers was something that took quite a bit of work.

At around 8pm, after the meeting, lunch and a short walk, you arrived at the Hyatt Regency. But you found something strange. The lobby was strangely populated, and once you paid a little attention to your surroundings you could see dozens of people with cameras whose flashes went on every second.

As you tried to figure out why there were so many photographers, a hotel employee approached you with a friendly smile.

"Good evening, sir," the woman said, with a pretty thick accent. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh... yes," you nodded absentmindedly, trying to look over the heads, but it was no use. "Yes, ma'am." you finally looked at her.

"Follow me, please." she nodded and started walking.

You followed the woman to the reception. The check-in process was quite smooth; about five minutes later the hotel staff had already provided you with both your room card and instructions on all the benefits that came with the reservation and how to claim them.

With nothing else to do down there, you decided to go straight up to your room, as you were exhausted and urgently needed to lie down for a couple of hours. The crowd was still milling around where the event was being held, and curious you finally approached outside the security line as it was on your way.

You wished you hadn't seen what you saw over the heads of the photographers, because it immediately put you in a bad mood.

Jang Wonyoung, now an ambassador for Tommy Jeans, posed for the cameras as seemingly innocent as ever, with that face carved by the archangel Gabriel and that beautiful, slim body. She was probably one of the most gorgeous people you had ever seen, without a doubt.

And you really, really disliked her.

You couldn't stand her since before you personally met the IVE girls over a year ago, but from then on, you only confirmed that she was exactly the kind of person you could never be friends with. She was a pick me girl, self-centered, pretentious, and haughty. Four things you hated all in one person.

Of course, she couldn't stand you either. Every time you had interacted had resulted in tensions, many of which ended in an argument, and for some time now you had chosen to simply stay away from each other to avoid awkward situations with people who had nothing to do with you.

And there she was again, in a hilarious twist of fate. It seemed scripted just to make you look stupid.

But as always, you were just going to ignore her and go about your business. Nothing was going to happen as long as you two stayed away from each other. So you took a few steps back, turned around, and took the stairs to the first floor, then took the elevator to your room.

The first thing you did when you got there wasn't even unpacking, it was going straight to take a shower and then lay down on the bed to check your phone.

You ended up getting a little too wrapped up in watching TikTok and Twitter, because you didn't realize when two hours had passed, only when your eyes started to feel heavy and your body was already asking for some rest. And that was exactly what you were about to do.

Until you heard the room door open.

Instantly alarmed, you looked over your shoulder, ready to throw punches on whoever had forced the lock to get in.

But out of all your possible scenarios, none of them mentally prepared you for seeing Wonyoung walk out of the hallway and stop dead in her tracks. You immediately sat up, your brow furrowed in a combination of anger and confusion.

“Ahhh!” she screamed in fright, dropping her suitcase and handbag to the floor. Recognizing you, her eyes went from fear to anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” she asked, in perfect English with no trace of an accent.

Great, just what you fucking needed.

“I ask the same damn question,” you said incredulously, staring at her. “It’s my room.”

“No, it’s not!” she protested, and stepped forward to show you her key card.

“Look on the fucking nightstand and tell me what you see, please,” you retorted, pointing at it.

Wonyoung frowned and walked over to look at your key card. She then clenched her fists and stomped her foot.

“Oh my god!” she shrieked in frustration. “This has to be a fucking joke!”

She then turned her back on you and stormed off down the hall. You knew where she was headed, so you immediately followed her. You both headed straight to the lobby to demand an explanation.

“I’m sorry, but that’s how the reservation was made,” the receptionist told you, embarrassed by the unfortunate situation. “There’s nothing that can be done to change it.”

“At least I can pay for another room, right?” you asked, hopefully.

The woman smiled sheepishly and folded her hands across the desk, indicating to you that nothing good was about to come out of her mouth.

“I’m afraid all rooms are taken for the night, sir,” she said. “We only have the Atrium suite available.”

And with that, any hope was crushed. On another occasion you would have paid whatever, but right now you couldn't afford it.

Wonyoung, seized by rage, slammed her hand on the desk and went back the way you had come.

You looked at the receptionist, embarrassed by Wonyoung's bratty attitude.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you sighed. "She's like that. Thank you very much, too."

"It's nothing, sir," she shook her head. "Sorry again for all this."

And with that, you set out to follow Wonyoung straight to the room, where you entered and slammed the door shut behind you. She immediately turned around and glared at you.

"Tonight was special for me!" she yelled at you. "Why the fuck did you have to show up and ruin everything?! Ugh!"

The moment she said that, you felt rage wash over your body like an uncontrollable tide of bubbling lava.

"Huh? Now it's my damn fault?!" you said, not yelling but with a louder tone than usual. "How the fuck was I supposed to know you were going to be here today?"

"You did it on purpose, you idiot! Surely Yujin told you!" she pointed at you, taking a step forward. "Why else would you be here today?!"

"For fucking work, woman," you replied, also taking a step towards her. "Why the fuck do you think I care enough about you to come here a day early?!"

"Because you hate me, Ezio, that's why!" she took another step towards you and gave you a nudge with her knuckles on your shoulder.

"So what?! You hate me too, you pretentious bitch!"

"I hate you because you hate me, you moron!" another step, now she was less than two feet away from you. "And I hate you because you always go around thinking you're better than everyone else!"

You couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh.

"The donkey talking about damn ears!" you yelled.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"That you're the first one to think you're better than everyone! Oh my god!" you growled, frustrated at her cynicism.

"Because I am actually prettier than everyone, asshole!"

Without realizing it, the two of you were now face to face, but you were so furious that you didn't think to step back.

"See? That's your fucking problem and you don't even realize it!"

"So you hate me for being pretty?" she said with a laugh, raising both eyebrows. "Are you fucking retarded or what?!"

"Huh?" you grimaced. "I hate you because you're a fucking pick me bitch and you do nothing but draw all the attention to yourself on purpose!"

"So fucking what?!" she yelled again, so close to your face that you could feel her breathing. "Are you going to cry about it?!"

She continued yelling at you, between insults and rhetorical questions that you didn't hear. For some reason, you took advantage of that moment to scrutinize every detail of her pretty doll-like face, from those bright, round eyes, to her small nose, to her little moles, and finally, those pretty, full lips, which, in an impulse that came from the depths of your heart and you didn't quite know why, you kissed.

Wonyoung accepted your lips with a slight start, but immediately resisted by hitting your chest several times until you moved away with your hands on her waist.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" She pushed you away and then gave you a stinging slap. "If you think you can kiss me first, you're so damn wrong!" She grabbed your face with both hands. "Because as a princess, that honor belongs to me!"

And then, in a move you definitely didn't expect, she kissed you.

There was something that felt strangely liberating about that kiss. It didn't feel weird like you thought it would, and the best way you could describe it was like accidentally getting something you didn't know you needed. That satisfaction was directly reflected in how your lips danced fiercely against each other, your heads constantly tilting from side to side.

You couldn't believe you were kissing Jang Wonyoung, possibly the only idol that you automatically got upset about when you saw her. For some reason you were enjoying it, maybe too much, and you couldn't blame yourself for it, she was a whole fucking beauty of a girl after all.

"I've always wanted you, you fucking idiot," she muttered mid-kiss, both hands tightly gripping the hair on the back of your neck. "You're exactly my fucking type. Ashole, fucking ashole."

That only made the anger in you come out again. But it made a revelation come to your mind, so clear that it made you feel stupid for not having had it before.

"I've wanted you too, from the first fucking day," you muttered back, your hands gripping her small waist. "Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch?"

"And you're a bitter fucker," she muttered, lowering a hand to your cock to squeeze it angrily over your sweatpants. "A bitter fucker who makes my pussy drip and doesn't notice."

"That's all your damn fault, woman," you replied, pulling away from her lips to kiss the side of her face and then the right side of her neck. You heard her moan. "Your attitude is a fucking turn off for me."

As you peppered that side of her neck with wet kisses and your hands tightened on her ass, she continued to knead your cock until it was hard.

"Are you so retarded that you couldn't spot the damn signs?" she asked between gasps, shoving her hands under your sweater and then pulling it off. "Fuck, you're even stupider than I thought."

"And what were the signs, huh?" You bit her neck, teeth marking the skin. You also slid your hands under her white sweater and pulled it off in an instant. "Looking at me like I'm a piece of shit? Trying to trample me every time I talk?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Ezio," she gasped, and grabbed onto your hair again as you peppered her collarbone and the center of your chest with kisses. "God, I'm fucking sick and tired of you. I need you to use me like your fucking sex doll."

Wonyoung grabbed you by the waist, turned you around, and pushed you down so you were sitting on the bottom edge of the bed. She then took off her bra, revealing a pair of modest but bigger than you imagined tits, and then she got rid of her denim skirt, which fell to the floor to reveal her white panties.

"It's not enough for you to be a pick me bitch, but now you're a fucking slut too?" you asked, looking at her slim, tight body, as she kicked off her boots.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," she muttered through gritted teeth, and straddled your lap with her hands on your shoulders to crash her lips against yours again.

She began to grind her hips back and forth, with intense, deep movements. You brought your hands to her small waist and then to her small ass, which you squeezed with your fingers before giving her a hard spank that reverberated throughout the room.

Wonyoung moaned and sank her teeth into your bottom lip.

"Mmm fuck yeah daddy," she growled, looking into your eyes. "Again."

You gave her another equally hard spank on the other cheek. She moaned again, grabbed your hair and pulled your head back to dive into your neck with kisses.

"Mmm, you're so fucking sexy, fuck," she gasped, and bit your neck. "Will you do the same fucking me against the wall?"

"I will when you suck my fucking cock, bitch," you replied, giving her another smack that made her moan between kisses.

"Oh yeah?" She lifted her head to look you straight in the eyes. "Then make me, fucker."

You pushed her off you and stood up, grabbing her hair in a rough grip and pulling her off the bed. Wonyoung bit her lip and moaned, falling to her knees in front of you. If that was a challenge, you were more than happy to take it.

"Open your fucking mouth," you said as you quickly pulled down your sweatpants and boxers, releasing your hard cock onto her face.

Wonyoung instantly complied and opened her mouth, tongue sticking out. You then grabbed your cock and buried it inside her mouth. She caught you between her lips, and you grabbed her hair again to move her head along every inch of your shaft, fast and hard.

She let you guide her however you wanted, just being a good girl and sucking every inch of the piece of meat that went in and out of her mouth with those cute, full lips. Thanks to this, the blowjob got sloppy within seconds, as you made her pump her head at a frantic pace.

"Yeah bitch, now choke on that cock," you said, and grabbed another handful of her hair with your free hand to push her head all the way down your shaft.

Wonyoung took the tip of your cock into her throat with gags that made saliva spill out of her mouth. You could tell she was struggling, but from the way she looked at you with dilated pupils and slightly arched eyebrows, you could also tell it made her extra horny.

You let her breathe a couple seconds later. She moaned and bit her lip, jerking you off with tightly clenched fingers.

"Oh god, fuck my face and don't hold back daddy," she told you, her lips spit stained and her eyes glassy. "Or are you a fucking pathetic weakling?"

Your only response to that was to give in to your impulses and give her a slap, exactly like the one she had given you a few minutes ago. She gasped in surprise, but turned her face again almost immediately to open her mouth and stick out her tongue.

"So you like that huh?" you asked, giving her another hard slap on the same side of the face, to which she responded with a moan. "You gonna let me use you as a cum dump, bitch?"

"Any hole you want as long as you do it dirty and not like a fucking pussy," she said, and hit your cock against her tongue.

"Oh don't worry, you can count on that," you replied, and then you grabbed your cock and took it inside Wony's mouth, all the way to the bottom.

This time, it was up to you to control the situation. You started to move your hips hard, fast, with too much pent-up rage being released. Wonyoung stayed still for the first few seconds, hands on her thighs and tongue out as your cock hit her throat over and over again. But as the saliva built up in her mouth and she had a harder time keeping up with that pace, she brought her hands up over your knees to dig her nails into your skin.

"You like it this dirty? Huh?" you growled, watching as you turned that gorgeous doll face of hers into a complete mess, clutching two handfuls of her hair like handles. "Put that fucking throat to work, slut."

You kept thrusting again and again, until you let go of both handfuls of her hair to bring one hand to her neck and the other to the top of her head, and with that push her back so that her neck was bent against the edge of the bed. Then you raised one foot to the matress, pressed her into it and fucked her throat up and down.

Now, Wony was not only gagged, but she was also coughing and choking on her own saliva. You were pushing her beyond her limits, you knew that, but you certainly didn't care and neither did she. Her eyes were still on you, tears spilling out of them; her hands, now clinging to your thighs with trembling fingers and nails well dug into your skin.

After a few seconds you felt close to your climax, so you quickly pulled out Wony's mouth and gave her another slap on the other side of the face.

"Now finish me, bitch," you hissed.

Wony moaned and pushed herself off the mattress to grab your cock soaked in her own saliva, press the tip against her tongue and jerk you off at a speed surprising for such a thin wrist. Just an instant later you exploded with moans, shooting jet after jet of cum onto her tongue.

"Oh fuck yeah," you growled with a hand on her head.

She caught you between her lips and pumped her head along your shaft, letting you unload inside her mouth and at the same time slurping all the saliva off your cock. When you had left your entire load inside her and your cock stopped throbbing, she pulled you out and stuck her tongue out. Nothing on it.

"See daddy? I'm a good slut," she moaned, and slapped the back of your shaft against her tongue. Her face was still a mess, her cheeks streaked with tears and both her lips and chin stained with saliva. “Don’t I deserve a reward?”

You grabbed her hair, pulled it back, and moved within inches of her face.

“I’ll decide when you deserve a fucking reward,” you said, and spat out a good amount of saliva that you had accumulated on her face. “Do you understand that?”

“God, just fuck me and destroy my pussy, Ezio,” she whimpered, reaching a hand inside her panties to touch herself. “I’ve been waiting for over a fucking year.”

“Too bad for you,” your lips curved into a small, wicked smile before giving her a small kiss. “The wait would have been shorter if you hadn’t been such a fucking despicable bitch this whole time.”

“Ugh you’re such a fucking bastard!” she squealed, and you pulled her up to her feet.

"A fucking bastard who's got your pussy dripping wet," you said, replacing her hand with yours inside her panties. She wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you.

"And also a fucking cute bastard who I'd kiss all night if I didn't want to punch him in the face," she managed to say between moans, while you kissed the left side of her neck and rubbed your fingers up and down her slit.

"Then do it, bitch," you growled, and raised your face to look into her eyes. "You don't have the fucking nerve."

Wony untangled one of her arms from around your neck and slapped you, which met the standard of intensity you'd been carrying so far.

"And ruin that gorgeous face of yours?" She bit your bottom lip, and then slapped you again, harder. "I would never dare. But seeing it marked in red by my hand is sexy."

With a growl of frustration at how stupidly insane she was, you wrapped your free arm around her waist, joined your lips with hers, and walked with her to the opposite side of the room, where there was a built-in worktop with a wooden desk; you sat her on it and spread her legs wide.

"I'm sorry, but your fucking panties bother me," you said against her lips, and in a small display of savagery, you ripped them from her crotch and let the shreds fall to the floor. Then your hand returned to her slit. "Hmm, what should I do with this nice wet pussy?"

"Eat it? Fuck it and fill it?" she asked, and kissed your chin as you rubbed her clit in circles. "I don't fucking know, god, at this point do whatever you want with me daddy."

"That's an excellent answer," you smiled, and slowly brought two fingers inside her. Wony held onto your shoulders and stifled a moan against her pursed lips. "Is the despicable bitch in you wearing off?"

"Fuck you, motherfucker," she hissed, and leaned forward to bite your jaw as your fingers sank completely inside her pussy. "You're lucky you drive me crazy."

"Oh yeah?" you murmured, pumping your wrist in a steady, hard rhythm.

Wony took a moment to lean her head against the TV behind her and arch her back, melting under the steady, increasingly faster pumping of your fingers, which made her pussy fill the room with wet sounds. A few seconds later she was able to open her eyes and look at you between adorable moans.

"Yes daddy," she nodded between moans. "You drive me fucking insane, and I fucking hate you because you're not mine."

You snaked an arm behind her lower waist and held her close, now fingering her as fast as you could. She gripped the sides of your neck with her hands, and held your gaze as she gave in to the pleasure.

"I thought it was because I think I'm better than everyone," you said, raising an eyebrow.

Wony rolled her eyes back and bit her lip. From the way her fingers tightened on your neck you could tell you were taking her downhill.

"Yeah, and that's so fucking hot," she gasped, her face becoming more twisted and flushed. "But I also hate other fucking bitches touching you, mmmgh!" She arched her back, pressing her sexy abdomen against your newly hard cock. "If I could lock you in my fucking room to have you all to myself I would do it without a fucking doubt!"

Those were her last words before she hugged your neck and came around your fingers. Her face as she writhed in ecstasy and moaned like a princess was like watching Turandot in the front row; a mesmerizing work of art that was burned into your memory from the first moment. A fucking beauty, like very few you had ever seen in your life.

For which you still felt an incalculable amount of rage.

"You're not ready yet, bitch," you hissed, fingering her just as fast through her orgasm and making her squirm desperately. "Cum again damn it."

"Ugh just fuck me you fucking piece of shit!" she whimpered, and she slammed a closed fist into your chest as her hips shook. "Fuck fuck fuck!!"

Despite her complaints, your commands sank into her body and made her react against her will. It wasn't even ten seconds after her orgasm passed until another followed, making her shake and you double-duty to keep her from knocking the TV over. With another girl that would have been enough, but you weren't sated yet.

"Please Ezio, please!" she whimpered with tear-filled eyes, and she put a hand on your head to hold onto your hair as you continued to move your wrist as if nothing had happened. "You can do the same with your cock inside me! Please!"

"I don't care," you growled, beads of sweat falling down both sides of your temple. "Shut the fuck up and cum. Cum, bitch, cum!"

"Mmmgh!! Fuuuuckk!" she screamed, pulling your hair and hitting you several times in the chest before cumming again, and now with an added surprise.

You finally pulled your fingers out of Wony's pussy when she squirted and made a complete mess, wetting part of your arm and the floor beneath your feet. The way she writhed was absurdly sexy, and you took a step back just to admire her in detail, noticing how her legs couldn't stop shaking and her mouth remained half-open, paralyzed.

"Now you deserve a reward," you said between gasps of exhaustion, your wrist feeling like it was going to melt, and you walked over to her again to wrap your arms around her waist and pull her down from the counter.

"You're a fucking insufferable son of a bitch," Wony said, and gave you another punch to the chest as you carried her up with one arm to the back of the room, where there was a single chair, a small circular table, and a double couch that you sat on.

“And?” You raised an eyebrow, and pulled her by the hand so she straddled you. Wony cupped your face in her hands, and now her touch felt so delicate that it sent shivers down your spine.

“And I won’t let you out of this room until you’ve made me cum at least four more times,” she said before kissing you again.

Wony wrapped her arms around your neck, and you wrapped yours around her small waist. You ran your hands over every corner of her back, and then down to her surprisingly round and firm ass to grope it. The back of your cock was pressed between her folds, and at the feel of it, Wony ground her hips slowly to rub your crotches together.

You pulled away from her lips to move down and kiss her collarbone, now letting yourself drift towards her small, pretty tits to suck, lick, and eat them in every way possible. Wony moaned into your ear, the lobe of which she bit on before she made you look at her.

“I’d love to ride you, daddy,” she made a cute pout. “But you’ve already exhausted me for that.”

“Can you at least stand up?” you said, both hands on her thighs.

“I think so.” she nodded. “For now.”

Perfect. Because you had something in mind since you saw her naked in the first place.

You stood up from the couch with her in your arms and carried her to the left, towards where the window was. You pulled the curtains wide open, revealing the bright nightscape of Tokyo. Wony was smart enough to lower herself, turn around and rest her hands on the glass, her pretty face now illuminated by the lights of the buildings as she bent over for you.

“You’re a good fucking girl huh?” you said behind her, hands on her waist before spanking her. Wony squealed and looked at you over her shoulder.

“I’m a good fucking girl for daddy,” she nodded. “Do I deserve my reward already?”

You gave her another smack on the other cheek, both now with bright red marks on the skin.

“Shut up, you impatient whore,” you said, and pulled her by the neck towards you, speaking in her ear. “I’ll make you perform in a wheelchair tomorrow.”

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“You’d do me a big favor,” she said, and licked you from your chin to the tip of your nose.

Unwilling to continue playing with her for the sake of both of you, you spit on your cock, picked it up, and brought it between her ass cheeks. Wony held your gaze, and you watched her face twist closely as you slowly sank into her suffocatingly tight pussy.

“Oh god, keep going,” she moaned with her eyes on you as half of your shaft was inside her. “Put it all inside me daddy.”

The words got stuck in your throat as you pushed forward and every inch of your cock was inside what was possibly the tightest pussy you were ever going to experience in your whole life. You tried to say something, but all you ended up doing was kissing her and stifling a satisfied moan against her lips.

Wony, clinging to your forearm and your hand on her neck, let you take control of the kiss and use your tongue as much as you wanted as you began to move back and forth. You made sure every inch of throbbing flesh went in and out of her slim body, and she was forced to part from your lips to try and take in everything she was feeling at that moment.

“You’re bulging my fucking belly oh my god,” she moaned, giving you little kisses on the side of your face.

You placed the hand you had on her waist on her lower abdomen to check, and sure enough, you could feel your tip bulge against her skin every time you pumped forward. That wasn't something new for you, but doing it to her gave you an extra boost of horniness, and if before you were determined to leave her crippled for a whole day, now it was your damn life mission.

"Come on slut, let all of Tokyo watch you being fucking railed," you panted in her ear, and put a hand on the back of her neck to press her face against the glass.

Wony rested her hands on the glass and looked at you out of the corner of her eye, face pressed against the window. You brought one hand to the back of her head and grabbed a good handful of shiny brown hair, while the other hand was left on her waist. Now you fucked her hard, fast, letting the rage in you flow just like when you fucked her throat.

"Does my cock satisfy you enough?" you asked between gasps, watching as it disappeared between her ass cheeks with each thrust. "Or are you going to complain about it like the fucking spoiled brat you are?"

"Why?" she asked, and managed a cocky smile despite being absolutely railed. "Are you gonna cry to that little whore Hanni Pham if I hurt your feelings?"

Oh hell nah. That was hitting a very, very soft spot for you, and she knew it. Hats off to her. It was an easy way to piss you off, and since you were completely done avoiding giving her what she wanted at this point, you gave her the victory and started to unload spanks, one after another, with your palm wide open and as hard as you could.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes!" Wony moaned with each spank, staring at you. "Harder, motherfucker, harder!!"

You didn't know if you could do it 'harder' than you were already doing, but you still made a little extra effort. By the time your arm tired, Wony's buttocks looked like two freshly picked cherries and her legs were wobbly in an attempt to stay upright.

"Like that?! Huh?!" you hissed, and grabbed her hair into a ponytail to pull her towards you.

"Yes!! Just like fucking that daddy, fuck!" she replied between unbridled whimpers, with nowhere else to look but the city. "Oh my god I'm going to cum, keep going, keep going!!"

Not even a minute passed when her words came true. Wony came in a tide of attacking spasms that threatened to make her fall to the floor if it weren't for the fact that you held her tightly and she pushed her hips back, preventing you from moving until her orgasm passed.

But almost instantly after she relaxed her body, you regained control and put a hand on the back of her head to push her against the glass with a downright dangerous blow. She only moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain, her mouth half open and her brow furrowed as you fucked her like an animal again.

"Fill me daddy, please!" She pleaded, miraculously still standing even though her pretty long legs looked like they were about to fall apart. “I can’t feel my damn legs anymore!”

“Oh yeah? I’m fucking glad.”

You pulled her hair again, this time to wrap your arms around her body and hold her against you, one hand tightening on her neck and the other on her pussy to rub in quick circles. Wony squealed and dropped her head to rest on your left shoulder, exposing her neck for you to kiss, suck and bite until she came again.

“For the love of fucking god fill my pussy already!!” she screamed in the middle of her climax, voice raspy from the grip of your fingers on her throat. “Please daddy!”

You didn’t wait for her second orgasm to pass before you turned around with her and walked her to the bed, where you threw her down with a rough push. Wony fell face down, and you quickly positioned yourself above her with your knees on either side of her hips. You brought your cock inside her again, and dropped forward to rest your forearms on either side of her head.

Wony quickly sought out your lips, and you accepted them as you pumped your hips up and down. You then wrapped one of your arms around her neck, and swirled your tongues together with moans from both sides.

When you felt your climax approaching, you let go of her neck and lifted your body, grabbing a handful of Wony's hair and pushing her head against the mattress, causing her hair to cover part of her sweaty face. The other hand went to the back of her neck, where you gripped your fingers before fiercely fucking her pussy against the mattress.

"Cum daddy..." she managed to say between pretty whimpers and the little breath you left her with each thrust. "I told you I'd be your cum dump, well fucking use me."

Coming from her, you didn't expect those words to sink into your bones as much as they did at that very moment, greatly accelerating your climax and making your body work on its own. It was such a magnitude of the damn spell, that you didn't even realize you'd cum until Wony began to moan in satisfaction.

"Oh fuck yes!" she growled, and bit the sheets beneath her as you filled her tight little pussy with deep thrusts. "It feels so warm, god. Are you sure you don't want to be mine alone?"

Still panting and not fully taking in how good it felt to cum inside her, you raised an eyebrow at that last bit.

"Why, are you going to drug me with chloroform and kidnap me if I refuse?" you asked, and removed your hand from her head and neck to let yourself fall forward and pepper her jaw with kisses.

"It won't be necessary," Wony replied, and turned her face to kiss you in a way so cute it seemed unlike her. "Because I highly doubt you'll refuse anytime soon."

Once you dumped all of your load inside her, you pulled out and laid on your side next to her.

"If you stop being a spoiled bitch, maybe," you said, pulling her on top of you to wrap your arms around her body and kiss her. You felt your own cum drip down to your thigh from her pussy.

Wony cupped your face in her pretty hands and gently ran one through your hair before pulling away from your lips.

"That's like asking me to stop breathing," she said with an innocent smirk, and she pushed herself off you to turn around and bend over your thigh, sticking her tongue out and licking up the little pool of cum that had spilled from inside of her.

After cleaning up the little mess she'd made on your leg, the only thing left to do was your cock, which she grabbed by the base and took straight into her mouth. You were still a little sensitive, but of course she didn't give a damn about this, she slurped up every inch of flesh without caring how you felt. Within seconds, however, you could appreciate how amazing she was at giving head, and how good her plump lips felt running up and down your shaft.

Her pretty ass, full of bright red marks on each butt cheek, was to the side of your face; you groped it, with gentle squeezes and caresses so as not to make the marks of your hands on her skin sting. You were taking care of her indirectly, and when you realized it, you quickly gave her a spank to make up for it. Wony moaned as she pumped her head and turned to look at you.

“Mmm, you still have some for me right?” she asked after pulling you out of her mouth, and placed wet kisses around your tip. “Yujin told me you can cum up to four times before you get tired.”

“I definitely have more for you,” you replied. “But that bitch lied to you.”

Not really. But that night had been special since Yujin looked absurdly hot in that tight black leather outfit.

“Three then?”

“Three,” you nodded. “And I know exactly what to do with the third bullet so get up here.”

“I told you I can barely feel my legs, Ezio, are you fucking deaf or what?” she raised an eyebrow as she straddled your abdomen.

"You won't have to use them, dumbass, and turn around," you motioned with your finger.

Wony frowned in confusion and complied with the order. You noticed that she genuinely had trouble lifting her legs, so you had to give her a small hand. When she was finally sitting with her back to you, you pulled her hair so that she was lying with her back pressed to your chest, and you grabbed her legs behind her knees to lift them up and pull them towards you in a full nelson position.

"Put it inside you, slut," you said, as you had your arms busy holding her legs.

She reached between her legs and grabbed your cock to take it inside her pussy herself. Wony delighted you again with a cute moan, as you held her head, planted your feet on the mattress and began to move your hips up and down, quickly picking up the pace until you were eventually drilling her pussy.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!!” Wony screamed, so loud it seemed like she would tear her throat out. “Motherfucker you’re destroying my cervix oh my god!!”

Along with her moans, the room echoed with the deafening sound of her body being nearly torn in half by your animalistic and careless thrusts. In the end, your promise about making her perform on a wheelchair was going to come true. Pretty reckless on your part honestly. In fact, you were afraid of what might happen to you if her manager found out the real reason for her inability to dance.

But there were hundreds of possible excuses. Besides, it was common for some idols to perform sitting on a chair when they had physical problems, right? Wony was pretty enough to attract attention anyway; she didn’t have too much to worry about, and certainly neither did you. That was why you were going all in, no holds barred when it came to giving her a fuck she would remember for the rest of her life.

"Yes daddy fuck yes!!" Wony moaned with her head hanging back, clinging to your forearms and with her hair—which by the way had a delicious vanilla and jasmine scent—covering your face. "It feels so goooood!!!

After that scream to the ceiling Wony came again on your cock, and you felt the muscles in her thighs contract and tremble under your fingers. You let go of her legs and wrapped your arms around her torso. She was again lying against your chest, and you kissed her neck as she moaned in your ear.

"Don't you dare stop you fucking asshole," she managed to gasp in your ear, even though her legs were still shaking. "If you don't make me cum at least two more times I'll have to tell your slut girlfriend that you're such a lame fuck."

And there she went again, like the fucking despicable bitch she was, mentioning the most important person in your life right now to add fuel to the fire. Luckily for her, you were quite susceptible to provocation at the moment, so you immediately pulled out of her, pushed her off you, and got on top of her. Wony was still obviously unable to move her legs on her own, so you grabbed them again, spread them wide, and pushed them back before thrusting back into her. You then leaned forward to look into her eyes, holding her legs with your torso.

"Keep my girl's name out of your fucking mouth, bitch," you hissed, and began fucking her again.

"Or-what?" Wony asked, panting, jerking back and forth from your thrusts. "I can say whatever the f..."

You cut her off with a slap.

"What was that?" You asked, thrusting fast and deep. “I didn’t hear you, bitch.”

“I said… Mmmgh!” another slap on the same side of her face from you. “Fuck!”

As you watched her cheekbone redden, you brought your hand to her long neck and tightened your fingers there. Wony tried to say something else, but the sound came out barely in a raspy whisper. She then closed her eyes, opened her mouth in a permanent O shape and frowned in a sexy display of pleasure.

“So you like that huh?” you said, straightening your back a little to add pressure to her neck. “Who knew you’d be such a S&M slut.”

Another attempt to speak from her, and only a weak cough. Seconds later she squeezed her eyes shut and raised her hips. The way she pursed her lips and began to squirm were indicative that she had come again, but you didn't stop, instead you switched the hand on her neck to the left, and used the right one to slap her again.

Wony opened her eyes now teary to look at you with arched eyebrows. You looked down, intending to admire how your cock bulged that tight belly every time it went inside. The hot and lascivious scene triggered all your senses, and made you turn on the overdrive so that in a sudden burst of energy, you gave her the most aggressive thrusts of the night.

"Now you're not saying shit, are you?" you gritted your teeth, and added another hand to her neck to squeeze it harder. "Wanna say something bitch? You fucking can't because you're a fucking masochistic whore."

You leaned towards her and spit in her open mouth. Wony closed her eyes again, and you felt her try to scream from the depths of her throat in vain as she came again. You didn't stop. More thrusts as she squirmed, and your persistence only made her cum one last time. By then, her pussy was so tight and felt so good around your cock that you felt your own climax just around the corner.

Wony was finally able to breathe properly as you let go of her neck and pulled off your cock. She opened her eyes and looked up at you as you straddled her chest, and despite breathing like she was on the line of life and death, she raised her neck and presented her cute little face to you; seconds later, you were turning her into a beautiful painting worthy of Tintoretto himself.

Every corner of her face was being covered in cum, with most of the spurts landing around her nose, under her eyes, and on her beautiful lips. By the time you finished draining yourself, you fell to the side and lay on your back, breathing heavily. That had definitely been your last bullet. But that only made you think like a normal person again.

What the fuck had you done?

Turning to look at Wony you could tell she was asking herself the exact same question. You expected her to make one of her usual comments, but she didn't say anything, she just stared at the ceiling with her face covered in cum and her chest rising and falling. Fuck, you had lost count of how many times you had made her cum. That girl was sure not going to be able to dance tomorrow.

You sat up after a couple minutes and looked into each other's eyes.

"Uh... I'll get some toilet paper," you said.

"Yeah… sure," she nodded.

Silence reigned in the room as you went to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper and returned to Wony. It was a rather tedious cleaning session, since you had left several places in the room dirty. Of course you had to start with her face, then you went to the TV area and finally near the window. Needless to say, all the work had fallen on you, since Wony couldn't stand up. You even helped her put on her panties and gave her one of your oversized t-shirts so you wouldn't have to snoop through her things.

By the time you were done you were dressed again too, in sport shorts and a hoodie. Wony had made herself comfortable under the blanket already, on the left side of the bed, but you didn't join her, instead you went to the couch and made yourself comfortable there in the most awkward way possible.

"What the hell are you doing?" you heard Wony ask you, as you were already curled into the fetal position (the only possible position in that space).

"I know you don't want to sleep with me," you said, pulling the hood of your hoodie up and closing your eyes. "And frankly I don't either."

There were a few long seconds of silence.

"Ezio, don't be a fucking idiot and come here," she finally said. "The bed is big enough for both of us."

"Why do you suddenly care?" you asked. "Anyone would think you'd be too self-centered to even share a bed."

You heard her growl in frustration.

"Do you want to wake up with a bad back?" she asked. "Get in bed right now!"

As much as it stung, you had to accept that order for the sake of your back and your comfort, since that damn couch was certainly not suitable for sleeping under any circumstances. With a huff, you stood up and went to the bed, where you crawled under the covers next to her but leaving a good gap between you.

"The blanket isn't that big, so I hope you're not a restless sleeper," you told her, turning your back to her.

"I'm not," Wony replied from the other side of the bed. "And even if I was, I'm a fucking cripple right now."

"Good," you said, closing your eyes again. "Good night."

"Good night," she repeated.

The next morning you felt particularly comfortable and warm when you regained consciousness. What had woken you up was the sunlight, filtering freely through the window whose curtains you had left wide open. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see Wony at the other end of the bed.

But she was in your arms, curled up against your chest and hugging you. Even your legs were intertwined. You immediately frowned, wondering how the hell that had happened and searching through your memory.

When the memories came back to you, everything was much easier to decipher. She and you, at some point in the early morning and for some reason, sleepy, moved around the bed looking for each other. First Wony had hugged you from behind, and when you turned around, you were the one who was the big spoon. Finally, she had turned around and curled up against you, the position you were still in until that moment.

You didn't see it appropriate to wake her up, so you just waited as long as necessary, completely still and lost in your thoughts. Wony woke up around twenty minutes later, yawning and rubbing her eyes, and upon noticing the situation you were in, she froze.

"Uhm... Ezio, what are we doing?" she asked with her hands on your chest, looking into your eyes.

"I... I don't know," you replied, still hugging her. "I honestly don't know."

Again, silence. But it wasn't an awkward silence, as you were unable to feel that tension that was always between you again. Rather, you felt the purest calm.

"At least you slept well?" you asked, looking back into her eyes.

She nodded softly.

"Perfectly," she replied, lost in your eyes. "Better than ever, honestly, and you?"

"Comfortable, very comfortable," you replied back, also lost in her gaze.

Both of your gazes then shifted to a single possible place. You looked at her lips, which were just inches away from yours. She looked back at yours, and with a quick glance into her eyes, it was easy to understand that you both wanted it. So you finally kissed.

This time you were able to properly enjoy Wony's lips, in a slow, careful kiss that was totally in contrast to what had happened last night. Wony cupped your face with her gentle hands, and you held her waist with one hand while caressing her shoulder with the other. You completely lost track of time as you kissed, but you were sure that a while had passed by the time you pulled away.

"Ezio... I'm sorry," she said against your lips.

"Why?"

She looked into your eyes.

"Because of everything we've been through," she replied. "I'm... not really like that."

"Huh?" you frowned. "But yesterday you said that..."

"I was just playing along, fool," she nudged you affectionately with her hand on your chest. "I've never hated you, but you know... you do me, and I apologize for that."

"Jang Wonyoung, you've been acting like a bitch ever since I met you and now you come to tell me that you're not really like that?"

"It's the attitude I learned to have in order to survive this shitty industry," she looked down. "You can't act fragile and naive, Ezio... Everyone has their own method to deal with media pressure and competition. It works for me to believe I'm better than everyone else, even though I know I'm not."

"But..."

"It's true that over time I didn't tolerate you for being such an insufferable whiner about my personality, but I never hated you."

"Last night you almost had security kick me out of the room when you found me here."

"Because I hated to think that after such a nice night I'd have to deal with your hatred for me," she said, still looking down as she scribbled on your chest with her finger. "And that shit stresses me out."

"So..." you looked at her in silence.

Wony finally looked up to meet your eyes.

"You've been hating just a disguise all this time," she replied. "I'll explain anything you want, really."

"No... you don't have to explain anything right now, but I'll think of questions to ask you," you said, somewhat flabbergasted. "Actually, I have a good one: what's the real you like, then?"

She gave you a cute smirk.

"You can find that out for yourself, honey," she replied, and grabbed your hoodie to pull you into another kiss.

You kissed back gladly, but you felt like the biggest idiot for being such a dick for so long. How the fuck could you not hate her? You never really talked to her, and you never gave her the chance to get close to you in a friendly way either because you always repelled her with your obvious dislike for her. Plus, it only made you realize something else.

She was one of the most gorgeous human beings you knew, and on top of that she was actually a sweet and kind person? Oh my god. Fuck no.

As the minutes passed, you broke the kiss, and you found yourself caressing her face with one of your thumbs.

"Do you want me to order us breakfast?" you asked against her lips, giving them small kisses.

"I'd love that," she nodded. "And watch something on TV together?"

You couldn't help but smile, but you cursed in your head.

Karma was a fucking bitch. A cruel one.

—————————–

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #izone smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

lovelookspretty · 2 months ago

Text

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly

authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3

your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.

“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.

“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”

leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”

your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.

“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.

“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”

“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”

she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”

your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”

“fish?”

“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”

you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.

just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”

“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”

“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”

you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.

because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.

you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.

even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?

“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”

“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.

your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.

you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.

his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”

“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”

“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.

you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.

“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?

you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”

there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.

you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”

“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”

drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.

you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”

drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”

“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”

“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”

you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .

“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”

you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”

you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”

“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”

you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”

drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”

you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”

he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”

“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”

you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”

there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”

“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.

the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.

two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .

right?

#drew #drew starkey #drew starkey concept #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fic #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you

1K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 3 months ago

Note

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

3K notes · View notes

starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year ago

Text

“I think we should break up.” Simons words were like a ton of bricks, nearly taking the wind out of you. He stated it so plainly, without any hesitation that it had your entire world spinning.

“Wait, what?” You asked, struggling to blink away the hot tears that were threatening to fall. “Simon, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His eyes landed anywhere but you, a trick you knew he had in order to keep his composure. There was something more he wasn’t telling you.

“But why? What’s changed?” Your voice was quivering now, praying the man you loved so dearly would just look at you. “Simon, what’s going on?”

Simon said nothing, his eyes glued to the floor as he tried to steady his breathing. He couldn’t look at you. He knew if he did, he’d go back on his word.

“Simon Riley, you answer me right now.” Tears were flowing freely down your cheeks now as you were no longer able to keep your composure. “Simon!”

“I don’t deserve you alright?” Simon finally looked up at you, the harshness in his tone causing you to flinch. “For fuck sakes, I don’t. You are everything I’m not. You’re gentle, you’re kind. You care about everyone so selflessly, and you deserve someone who can be on that level with you.”

“Si.”

“No.” Simon cut you off before you could speak, his eyes flickering back to the floor. “I’m a broken shell of a man, Y/N. You deserve someone who can take you on dates. Someone who can bring you home to their family. Someone who you’re not waiting months on end for, wondering if they are even alive. You deserve anyone but me.”

You choked back a sob, the words of your lover causing your heart to shatter. Is this truly how he felt? Had you failed as a partner to make him feel that he is worthy of love?

“I got my family killed. My best friend died because I wasn’t there fast enough. Everywhere I go, death follows me.” Simon continued. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.

“Look at me.” You spoke, your voice stern as you blinked away some of the tears. “Simon, look at me.”

Simon’s gaze lifted, and the sight of him caused your tears to flow down your cheeks once more. He was crying. His cheeks were blotched red, something you’d never once seen on him in the years you’d been together.

You took a step forward, slowly moving your hand to cup his cheek, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away. “I don’t want, nor need anyone that’s not you.”

Simon blinked, clearing his throat to speak, but you cut him off. “You are the man that I want. You think you’re a broken shell of a man, but every single person on this planet is broken, in their own way. I want every part of you.

I want the late night phone calls when you’re on the other side of the world. I want the reunions when you come home, the feeling that I’ve finally got you back. I want the corny at home movie dates. I want the burnt dinners, the late night fast food runs. I want the man who so deeply cares about everyone but tries so hard to deny it. I want the man that would put his life on the line for anyone who he considers a friend. I want the dry humor, I want the witty remarks. Simon, I want you. Always.”

Simon’s tears now flowed freely down his cheeks, his lips quivering as he struggled with what to say. His arms wrapped around your torso, holding you tightly to him as a sob wracked his body. “I fucking love you, Y/N. I don’t deserve you but gods I’ll fucking try to.”

Little did he know, he never had to. You’ve loved him from the moment you met him.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2

6K notes · View notes

nezz-cringe-crib · 7 months ago

Text

growing up is realizing that dipcifica was actually a pretty damn good ship and holy shit i totally misjudged this pairing.

i never really liked dipcifica mainly because of how it got represented by the fandom, but looking back on it, it would've made a lot of sense and it would've been beneficial for both of them to date each other. and even in a completely platonic sense, their dynamic worked well enough that they could've done a lot more together.

dipper is a very nerdy awkward guy, clearly. he likes solving mysteries and sometimes he gets a little in over his head because of it. and his silly little awkward teenage love life reflects all of these things. that little shrimp was disney's #1 simp, it's actually insane. whenever he'd start to fall for a girl it'd end up going pretty terribly because he'd have no idea how to just act like himself and he'd also become a little bit of a jerk. (i'm not trying to like dog on dipper btw. he's just a kid and these are all understandable flaws, especially at his age and at the time period gravity falls took place in). however, with pacifica, a lot of these flaws are manageable solely because of how they're introduced to each other. dipper hates pacifica at first and wants nothing to do with her, but eventually they're forced to work together and realize "huh. we actually make a really good team." for dipper, this gradual building of a relationship is really beneficial to him. he wouldn't just go head-first into simping for some random girl and he'd also learn to respect her as a person and realize when he's being a little bit of a dick. being with pacifica, platonically or romantically (though personally i think romantically would strengthen their pros more but thats just my personal taste), would've helped dipper become a better person.

this goes for pacifica as well. pacifica's homelife is extremely controlling and it's what groomed her into becoming the mean girl that she's first presented as. as the show continues though, it's clear that she doesn't really want to be mean to anybody. she only acts spoiled because she doesn't know what else she can act like. she wants to connect to people but she's been so forced into this fake rich life that she has no idea how to be genuine with anybody. that's why her having a connection to dipper is so important. dipper is a little blunt, and he especially won't hide that from pacifica because he initially hates her and her family's lifestyle, so this'll eventually help pacifica realize "oh shit. i'm kind of a dick. my family are kind of huge dicks." and we do end up seeing this from her in "Northwest Mansion Mystery". she learns how to be herself, learns who "herself" even means, and learns to stand up for who she is when she figures that out. also pacifica's pretty damn smart???? especially socially???? she could absolutely help dipper do a lot of things when it comes to mystery solving, and with her status it'll most likely be things that dipper could never pull off and never even thought about because that's just what he's used to. they'd both end up learning a lot from each other because they'd be dragged into environments that they're not familiar with, but the other is. and their different perspectives/lifestyles would help the other view their environment in a new light.

not only is their relationship genuinely really beneficial to the both of them, but i also just know that their dialogue and scenes with each other would be so damn silly i can't not say yes to it anymore. i also just personally like headcanoning them both as bisexual so that's a plus for me.

anyways, tldr: i was wrong about dipcifica and its actually really good, i just think people should really analyze their relationship more since the way the fandom presents it (or how ive personally seen the fandom present it) is a little icky and shallow at least in my opinion. yay for dipcifica being silly little goobers :3

#gravity falls #analysis #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipcifica #nezz brainz

2K notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 1 year ago

Text

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #h writes (hypothetically)

5K notes · View notes