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kurohoely · 4 years ago

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always (daichi x y/n)

part 2

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

wc: 1.2k

a/n: thank you everyone for liking always part 1 TwT i almost cried seeing so many daichi stans reading and liking it. one more part to go! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two , part three

Small tears formed in the corner of your eyes. Such a sweet sentiment from someone that you only saw twice a week. There are still good things in this world. It’s always the small things that make people going. You flipped open your computer but then noticed her packing her stuff.

“Ah, Kaori-san. Are you going back home?”

“Yes, y/n-san. I got my work finished early today so I’m heading out. Do you still have a lot of work to do?”

“I’m just gonna finish everything today so I can leave early on Friday. Have a safe trip back home”

And you did stay here, rigorously typing the report and finishing the final touches of your presentation tomorrow. You glanced at the clock, it’s already 9 huh. Just one last push before you get that sweet, sweet week off. You pressed save and backed up everything, turning off your computer. You gather your stuff and start heading down, home. It looks like you were the only one left in the building, with only a few guards and janitors roaming around the halls. As you were about to pass through the auto gates, you noticed the same figure you saw when you took a break. Your breath hitched, pulse drumming inside your veins. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. You stood at the gate for a while since he hasn’t noticed your presence just yet, gathering your scattered courage. You want to get out, away from him before your body follows what your heart wants. But before your body could even follow your mind, Daichi moved first, picking up the pace as he walked to you, as if he heard what your heart wanted.

“Hey y/n”

“Hey Sawamura, are you looking for someone?”

It pains Daichi that you used his last name. You made it very clear to him that whatever you both had was over, just how he wanted but somehow, it didn't feel right. After these months being away and not having you by his side felt so foreign, it was as if he was a void, an empty shell. His emotions went numb. He relies on his brain to function, keeping him alive but beyond that, he shuts off. Everything went stagnant, stale. Now, you’re in front of him again but he couldn’t reach you. He wants you. He needs you. He wants to fix whatever it is between you and he knows he has to do it now. He fumbled his fingers before speaking up again, shifting his gaze straight into your eyes. You felt a loud thump in your heart.

“Umm no, actually... I was waiting for you”

“Why? Did I leave anything at your place?”

“No! You didn’t unfortunately… I just wanted to come by and see… you know, how you're doing and… stuff…”

“That's nice Sawamura but I think you should focus on your girl now. Don't want her to think we’re up to something. I gotta go now, it's been a long night.”

“Yeah, it's pretty late already. Are you okay with me accompanying you back home?”

“It's okay Sawamura. Drive safely okay?”

You walked past him, towards the parking lot. Why? Why are you still the sweet person you are, just as how he remembers it? Your warmth was like the morning sun, embracing him at his most vulnerable state. Home. He wants to pull your figure into his embrace, flushing into his built. He wants that warmth to dissipate into him. Make him feel alive again. What did go wrong in your relationship? Before he could even try to pull back the memory, he was struck again by your words. Her. Who is her? Daichi swore he is not drunk and pretty sure that there's not yet a her now. He whipped his head in your direction but your shadow was long gone.

The long-awaited week off finally arrived. You started the day by cleaning up your house, airing up everything. Pillows, mattress, your plushies. Doing chores always make you feel productive, jamming through the blasting speakers of your “heads boppin walkin alone” playlist. You tried a new breakfast recipe that you saw on Tik Tok and turned out really good. The weather is so good today, it felt like a waste if you spend time indoors. You washed up quickly, you stared at your wardrobe, thinking what outfit of the day you should try now. Pushing one hanger at a time, you saw the sundress that Daichi bought for you. A knee-length dusty sage sundress, with pleated around the skirt area, v-lined, and half-arm length sleeves. Slipping into your white sandals, you grabbed your bag and headed out to your favorite bookstore. One whole week of doing nothing might as well pick up a new book.

You passed through the antique, small indie coffee shop that Daichi found while he was doing his morning runs. You stare through the display window, laughing to yourself. Wouldn't it be funny if Daichi was here? You let yourself into the shop. At this moment, you truly believe you hold the power to jinx yourself when it comes to Daichi. It’s the second time the universe loves seeing you suffer. He was there with his training jacket and shorts. Sweats were still visible on his sideburns. His coffee almost slipped from his grasp when he saw you, but what surprised him more - he saw you in the dress he bought. His heart felt a live pulse, a too-familiar feeling growing inside him.

“Hey y/n”

“Hey Sawamura”

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yeah, I came here to pick up a new book from the old bookstore”

“Oh, nice. You’ve always been a reader”

An awkward chuckle escaped your lips. Oh, how you wished you had the power to fast-forward time. The tension between you could cut slice anything that comes into your space. Daichi chose to break the silence.

“Hey y/n, I know it’s a bit too early but are you free ton-. Sorry”

His ringtone caught his attention. He still used the old ringtone that you set for him. It made you soft and blushed a little. Daichi swayed his hands towards his back pocket, swiping through to pick up whoever’s calling. You swore you heard a small devil whisper inside you, wishing whoever called Daichi, their pinky gonna meet every corner they can get. Your heart almost stopped beating when you heard a woman's voice through the grills. Your gut feeling was proven more after you saw Daichi’s smile. You snapped back yourself back into the harsh and cruel reality. Enough is enough. You need to move on. Daichi already did it. What's stopping you?

While Daichi was busy answering his call, you took your coffee and went straight back home. Just as he hung up, he was greeted by your trailing dust. He missed his chance twice to have a proper conversation with you. Is fate trying to test him or is there something else that it wants to tell? Either way, he knows he shouldn’t give up, just as his feelings never did. Especially after the two unexpected meetings with you, he knows at least this - you haven’t yet rejected his existence near you. He cupped his face, gathering all ideas to have a longer, more open conversation with you, hoping you would still feel the same. He wished hard for a slight amber within your heart that he could reignite it and start anew, fresh new pages with you. He texted you as soon as he exited the shop, guessing by now you have his number unblocked.

next >

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love-dreams · 4 years ago

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pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

content: based off of the netflix show, the queen’s gambit, with different character names; drug abuse and overdose; lots of chess terms

wc: 3454

note: I FREAKING LOVE THIS NETFLIX SHOWWW!! this is a character study i’m trying to do to make my female y/ns less.. idk meek? wimpy? it’s such a writing pet peeve of mine and i absolutely loved beth harmon’s character so here it is :))

the queen’s gambit masterlist: 1 2

It was quiet in the orphanage basement. With the exception of the dull thumping of childrens’ feet on the basement’s ceiling. Pensive, and tense, the air felt pregnant with strain.

Your eyes flitted back and forth, from black to white and then back again. They went over the ridges of the standing pieces, and down the curves until it met the checkered board. A criss-crossing maze full of infinite possibilities for strategy.

Finally, your delicate, little fingers wrapped around the stem of your rook, pushing it so it slid all the way across the board.

“Check,” came your raspy voice.

The janitor’s bald forehead creased into more folds, and he raised up a finger to push up the frame of his glasses. “Not anymore.” His voice was rough, like gravel scraping against concrete.

The young girl’s brows furrowed, “Wait, how can you do that? You never taught me-”

The buff man stood up suddenly, interrupting her rhetoric. “That’ll be for next time. Clean up the board now and get to class.”

“Wait-” you stuttered, feeling confused and cheated, but Mr. Lee's back was already turned on you, already moving in between the aisles of paint. You sighed, letting her gaze brush over the stationery pieces on the chess board once more, before sweeping all of them off into a velvet bag.

The school bell rang shrilly.

Soonyoung liked to win. Even at the young age of five, he liked crushing his opponents with a gummy smile on his face and curved crescent eyes.

They called him lots of names: the best chess player in the country since Yoon Jeonghan, the chess champion, etc.

But he figured he liked the title “Innocent Tiger of the Chessboard.” Soonyoung thought it made him sound powerful and glorious. He used the name “Hoshi” a lot after the Times magazine coined him that way.

“You’re all a bunch of-”

A girl, whom you did not know, was getting dragged from the cafeteria. A teacher yanked her forward by her long, curly afro harshly. One hand held the girl’s hair, and the other hand, you barely noticed, was holding a yellow-tinted soap bar.

You walked into the cafeteria, naturally standing at the back of a long line of orphaned girls. She moved forward, hesitantly, taking the spot in line from the previous girl. You looked up at the male vendor with large, unblinking eyes, expectantly. His eyes held a glint of remembrance, and slid a small, white paper cup toward you.

Your fingers reached into the small cup and grabbed the object inside. Small, oval shaped pills rested at the bottom of the paper cup.

“Ooh, those ones are best saved for the night. Don’t take ‘em all at once, either. Save ‘em.” You turned around. It was the black girl from before. “My name’s Ruth, by the way. You’re new here, right?” Ruth’s voice was sultry and teasing; her brown, chocolate eyes hid a twinkle of mischief that you could already tell made her a troublemaker. She had her own matching green pill in between her large hands. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Then, she walked right back into the cafeteria with the other girls.

The room where you slept was also occupied by the dozens of other girls in the orphanage. It had large windows with thin curtains, and stone ceilings and floors. The beds were identical with small dressers on the side of them.

Because the curtains were thin, they didn’t do much to keep the silver beams of moonlight from filtering into the room and onto the beds.

Your eyes were wide open, staring at the green pill twirling in between your fingers. You debated yourself internally for a few moments, before swallowing it in one gulp. Your eyes felt heavy with sleep, but your mind was as light as feather, swirling and swirling with thoughts. You finally cemented on one event in her day, zeroing in and latching onto it with no mercy.

The chess game with the orphanage janitor.

As the event seeped into the cracks of your skull, your eyelids slowly opened until you were faced with the dark, blank ceiling above you.

A spot appeared. Then another right beside it.

Then two more around those, and then more and more and more. They were alternating spots, some dark and some light.

You gasped, pushing herself to a seated position.

It was a chessboard.

The pieces slowly materialized on the ceiling. You could make out the distinct shapes of the king, the rook, and the many other pieces that she didn’t know the names of. You knew of the pawn, pieces with a rounded sphere as its head. Mr. Lee had taught you about them the first day she played chess with him.

“The opening,” he had called it. “Openings are the first moves of the game. Learn some.”

The pieces flickered on the board, teleporting from place to place, mimicking a real chess game.

You almost overslept for breakfast the next morning.

The teacher paused for a moment in her lecture, her hand moving automatically toward the chalk erasure. Her fingers brushed metal and her eyes saw an absent seat.

“Check.”

A piece moved.

You let out a breath.

“Checkmate.”

Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his bloated stomach. He said nothing, instead pulling out a rectangular box from his back pocket.

“I know all the pieces now.” You stood up, your arms bracing yourself against the table. “And how they move.”

Again, he refused to answer. His muscled, long fingers nimbly hooked under the latch on the cigarette box. You watched as Mr. Lee lit the cigarette and turned away.

Your internal question remained unanswered.

“Tomorrow,” he finally replied. “Tomorrow, I’ll properly teach you how to play.”

Your breath hitched in excitement, “Really? You’ll teach me-”

“You should learn the Sicilian Defense,” came his gruff voice. His back remained turned on her. You stood as well, seriousness filling the gap between the two of you.

Mr. Lee finally turned.

“To tell you the truth of it, child…” His lips curved upward. “You’re astounding.”

It was the national championship. Reporters and news outlets were crawling around everywhere, shoving their microphones into every chess player’s face. Soonyoung smirked in amusement, letting his gaze drop back down onto the chessboard in front of him.

“Oh, you moved already?”

Chan huffed, “It’s been two minutes, you’re gonna run out of time at this point.”

Soonyoung chuckled, sliding a piece away from him. His aura remained confident and unsettled by Chan’s warning. “I’d be more worried about yourself, brother.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed as he analyzed the board. At first glance, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. All of his pieces were set in motion and Soonyoung-

His eyes snapped open. Soonyoung was already one step ahead of him. Except this step was a mile in front and already at the finish line.

“H-how did you-” he stuttered in disbelief.

Soonyoung interrupted Chan, “Next move is Anderssen’s mate.” His eyes held a small twinkle of triumph, but anyone who had played Soonyoung before knew that he was never truly surprised about the outcomes of games he played.

Chan let his head hang low in defeat. “Alright, then.” His hand reached up to knock over the long column of his King. “You win.”

A crooked grin spread across the face of the young champion.

“Don’t worry!” He smirked. “You’ll always have next time.”

You had been falling behind in math class. You hardly ever paid attention when you were in class, and when you were out, math was hardly even at the back of your mind. Mr. Lee had gifted you a book to read called Modern Chess Openings. Soon enough, you had mastered not only all of the openings in the book, but also the art of hiding a book under your desk and reading.

One day, Mr. Lee had a visitor in the basement. Another man, leaner and taller than the janitor. He was dressed formally and wore a hat.

“Beth,” Mr. Lee greeted her. “This is Mr. Choi. He’s a representative of the chess club I play at.”

You stared at the stranger, unmoving and unresponsive.

“Hello, (Y/N),” he said, smiling. Mr. Choi was a friendly looking man, youthful too. “Would you care for a game of chess?” He took the chair next to Mr. Lee, long fingers already moving the pieces to their correct positions. His poise was confident and his eyes were shrewd. A completely different player from Mr. Lee was in front of you.

You won in three moves after the opening. Quick and precise, with no room for error. Mr. Lee looked on from the side of the table. His face showed neither surprise nor pride, but his eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“Well,” Mr. Choi raised his gaze from the board, turning his head toward the elder janitor. “She’s exactly how you described, Jihoon. I’m certainly impressed.” You waited patiently, unaware of the relationship between the two men. He turned his attention to the young girl in front of him. “(Y/N), how old are you?”

You answered mechanically, without any hesitation. You remained unfazed, an almost bored tone in your voice. “Nine years old, sir.”

Mr. Choi leaned back in his chair. “Nine years old, huh,” he echoed in disbelief. “That’s amazing. Say,” Mr. Choi reached down beside him. “(Y/N), would you be interested in competing against some other people?” He straightened himself, this time holding something in his hands. “I run a chess club at a high school near here, and I’d love to have you come play with us.”

You stared at him, shock and curiosity filling your gaping mouth. “Me?”

Mr. Choi chuckled, finally bringing up the object in his hands for her to see. “You can think about it for awhile, I’ll also be in contact with your headmistress. In the meantime, here’s a prize for your win. Nine year old girls like dolls, right?”

Your mouth refused to answer. You looked helplessly at Mr. Lee, but his gaze was fixated on the ending board pieces.

“Well then,” Mr. Choi breathed. “I’ll be off.”

You watched as he grabbed his leather briefcase and his hat, then strode straight in between the shelves and up the wooden, creaky stairs. Then, you turned your attention to the doll in front of you.

You hesitantly grabbed the plastic body, running your thumbs over the cheap polyester clothes.

Then, you promptly threw it in the trash.

The next time you saw Mr. Choi was not in the cold basement, but instead, in the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a bitter woman with strict ideals that were brittle and unbending. You had only met her once, and you had hoped that they would never come so close again.

“Well, Miss (Y/N). Is what Mr. Choi telling me true?” Her wintry voice chilled you down to the bone, leaving your head numb and you palms overheating. Without waiting for a response, Headmaster Kim turned her attention back to Mr. Choi. “Mr. Choi, we appreciate the offer and would love for the orphanage’s many talented students to compete with others, but going to a school by herself? I worry for the child.”

Mr. Choi nods, compromising with a soft tone, “Of course, I will be with her at all times.”

“Hm,” the headmaster pondered. “I’d rather her go with another girl actually.”

He relented immediately. “Absolutely.”

The Headmaster stood up from her seat. “Well then, it’s decided. Young (Y/N) will be accompanied by a fellow student from the orphanage.”

Mr. Choi complied calmly, leaving without another comment. Quietly and rapidly just like the first time you had met him. Your nerves spread out like spindly branches of a tree, bumping against each other until it filled the entire room.

“(Y/N)?”

It was only until the Headmaster called your name that you realized your gaze had dropped to the floor.

“You’ve been playing chess in the basement, I hear.” There was a pause, and you quickly recognized that the woman expected a response. You dipped her head slightly into a nod of acknowledgement. “I must say, playing chess in the basement is highly irregular.” Your heart rate jerked upward. Would the Headmaster forbid you from playing chess? A sense of dread pricked her heart. “Ask Mr. Jun for a chess board from the game closet, I’m sure we have one or two. You can play out in the open from now on.”

A wave of relief crashed over you. “Really?”

The Headmaster dismissed you, “It’s lunch time now. Hurry back to the cafeteria, Miss (Y/N).”

You left without any refusal, your steps hurried and rushed as your shoes clicked against the cement floors.

The cafeteria had its usual vibrations of friendly chatter, and the line to the pill vendor was just as long as the day she arrived. Inching closer and closer to the vendor, you buzzed with anticipation for your daily collection of green pills.

The man slid the snow paper cup toward you, and habitually, you looked inside for the strange green pill among the scarlet ones.

It wasn’t there.

“Where’s the green pill?” you asked, bewildered.

The vendor sighed, clearly annoyed and frustrated with you. His voice was thin and gruff, an unattractive timbre. “New state laws, kid. No more tranquilizers. Now move on, more people waitin’ behind you.”

You furrowed your brow, but moved aside regardless.

That night, you counted the leftover tranquilizers you had saved up. There were only five left. You’d have to ration them and not take them frivolously.

The ceiling remained a blank canvas without its usual checkered illusion projected.

“Chess is getting kind of boring,” Soonyoung noted one day. He was 18 at the time.

Chan glared at him from his peripheral vision. “God damn it, Kwon. Maybe you need to get a life or something.”

He laughed, sweeping the plastic chess pieces off the wooden board. “Are you suggesting a get laid, or that I go on a date? Because both are well within reach.”

Chan grinned cruelly, “Like hell they are. The only thing you’ll ever love more than yourself is chess. As if a girl could even compare.”

Soonyoung rubbed at his nape sheepishly. “Maybe if she was a girl who played chess..”

“Well then you’d just see her as another bad player who couldn’t beat you.”

“Jesus, Chan. Way to make a guy feel motivated,” he sighed. “I guess I’ll just have a steamy date with my chess books instead.”

Chan huffed in annoyance and turned his attention away from the other male.

The drugs didn’t last you until the chess match and you began to feel the effects of it. Or rather, the effects of not having them. You mind would wander during class and you felt sluggish and tired. Ruth noticed.

“What’s going on, cracker? You don’t look so slick.”

It was true. Your hair was unkempt, your eyes were sunken and bruised from insomnia, and you no longer had the energy to hold up a conversation. Ruth sighed and moved closer so that your elbows were brushed up against each other. “It’s because of those green pills, ain’t it?” When you didn’t respond, Ruth huffed. “Alright then, I was gonna help you out with that by sharin’ some of mine, but if you’re gonna be so rude, then I guess I won’t!”

Your head snapped up. “You still have some?” you whispered.

Ruth smirked, her large lips parting to reveal bright white teeth. “Sure I do! Started savin’ these babies up a long time before you did.”

“Can I have some?” you hesitantly asked, your voice was low and soft. It was only a day before the chess game with the high school team and you were slowly going psychotic without the tranquilizers’ help.

Ruth denied you a verbal cue and instead, moved closer to slip two pills into your dress’s pocket.

It was your first time leaving the orphanage ever since you entered through the black, metal gates. Thus, when you, accompanied by Jamie Park, ambled through the high school halls, along with Mr. Choi, you were noticeably a little startled. It was noisy, crowded and ever so chaotic. Kids of all sizes were ravaging the school, lockers were haphazardly open and some closed, there was no sense of the eerie order at the Methuen Home orphanage.

You found that you didn’t mind the disarray much after all.

Mr. Choi led the duo into an empty classroom filled with desks that had been arranged into a circle. Only a few kids lingered in the room. You could count the amount of girls with your fingers. He directed you and Jamie toward the edge of the room.

The pair watched as student after student filed into the room in a steady stream of people, like tap water flowing out until only the last few drops fell.

Mr. Choi stood in the middle of the classroom and spread his arms dramatically. “Welcome, everyone! Today we have a very special guest,” he announced. Mr. Choi motioned toward you. Feeling compelled, you shyly stood and walked forward. “This is Miss (Y/N). You all will be playing a simultaneous against her!” He paused. “Please take your places.”

The students shuffled amongst themselves, the sound of feet thundering crescendo-ed until all of the seats were filled. You looked around at all of the male students seated in front of chess boards, a somber expression pasted on each of their faces. Some even had smirks. You looked up at Mr. Choi, who had a smile on his face.

“Mr. Choi?” you questioned.

He nodded, ushering toward the first board from clockwise motion.

You stepped forward in front of the first board and looked down at the colored pieces in front of her. You took a deep breath, then moved the first piece.

It took only eighty minutes to win every single board, even the high school’s best chess player.

When you returned to Methuen, you first celebrated with Mr. Lee. The janitor had prepared a small treat for you when you returned. To the normal eye, Mr. Lee looked neutral and maybe even a little irritated, but to you, the pride in his eyes were as clear as the squares on the chessboard.

“Honestly, I was most surprised about how bad they are. I mean, they made the most basic mistakes.” You paused to swallow a lump of dark chocolate. “Doubled pawns, queen trades, all of that. It was honestly kinda embarrassing to play against them.”

Mr. Lee didn’t interject your rant, watching as brown spread across your lips to your cheeks. He handed you a napkin and stayed quiet.

“Well,” you stood up, straightening our your skirt. “I’m off now.” The janitor nodded, eyes fixated on the chess pieces on the board as if they were moving by themselves. You looked down at the board and a question naturally floated to the top of her mind. “When’re you going to teach me end game, Mr. Lee?”

Mr. Lee looked up at the nine year old.

“Soon.”

Soonyoung was only 10 when he won his state championship. He won the country’s championship when he was 14.

He lost it when he was 23.

You ran out of the green pills in a day after the chess tournament. Once again, your body was thrown into withdrawal. It felt like a constant yearning for water. Every single day your gaze would linger on the glass jugs of pills behind the windowed divider. It became tantalizing. Each night you would salivate at the thought of breaking in and shoveling those pills into your mouth. It was a heavenly dream that nudged you closer and closer to reality.

It was during class that you found herself passing the open door of the cafeteria. The cafeteria room was a desert and the oasis was straight in front of your very own eyes. Self-control was a feeble wall that disintegrated under the wave of pent up yearning.

Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock, yanking it off and sliding over the divider. It was too easy.

Your heart pounded against the confines of her chest. The adrenaline rushed through your veins and your vision quickly became dizzy.

The second your fingers reached the pills, you were gone.

All those nights of dreams finally came true. You couldn’t even stop her hands from shoveling those pills into your mouth.

You couldn’t even stop as your fingers twitched on the ground, your body pressed against the cold tile floor.

“Rumor has it you were drunk while playing Minghao.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I was sober anyway.”

next part: here

tag list: @haotheheckk @svtantalizing

#caratwritersclub #hoshi/reader #seventeen/reader #svt/reader #hoshi angst #hoshi fluff #soonyoung/reader #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #g:seventeen #m:hoshi #quillstarters-entry

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akvtsuki-ari · 5 years ago

Text

Downers

Warnings: smut, fingering, penetration, oral (both recieving),(( reader swallows lol)), alchohol

Length: 4.7k

Authors Note: idk how to explain the context of this fic kjshjek but before you read i highly reccomend listening to the song this fic is based on!! normally it doesn’ matter either way but it’s directly apart of the fic!! the song is Downers by Greentea Peng

Summary: Spencer comes back from a one-night stand with insomnia he can’t shake. The hotel bar is welcome company, and the singer there seems to catch all his attention

Spencer couldn't remember her name.

Here he was in her hotel room, mouth on her neck, hands on her skin - whispering to her how beautiful she was and he just couldn't remember her name. He doesn't even know if he asked - he can't remember that much of their interactions since there interaction in the bar. Her dress was pretty, so Spencer went up to her. She was alone - she needed the company, her and her boyfriend were taking a break he thinks. She told him that she liked his tie, and his hair and he smiled and dazzled her, made a stupid magic joke and manage to get her back here

Spencer was good at this now, he knew how to get here everytime. It wasn't difficult after you get the hang of it. It was profiling after all, something he realized when this all started so many months ago. It's funny to try and recall a time before this - Spencer was always the butt of the joke because he used to tell himself he couldn't do one night stands. He wasn't wrong, either - at first he would just get too attached but things stopped mattering. Slowly but surely all the pieces fell away and he just started needing easy company, shed his skin of his job and make sure he made someone else feel good.

He was never really hedonistic but he figures things change right? When he fucks another girl whose name he doesn't remember, he's not keeping score - just trying to focus on making her feel good and the way it feels when he orgasms. He's chasing that feeling of high - even if it's temporary it makes him feel something and that's enough. Life is about more than chasing pleasure in the long run but this was now, and the feeling of the girl whose name he can't remember wrapping her mouth along the tip of his dick was enough. For now this feeling was enough, bucking his hips into her throat and making sure she gets off. He was an asshole but he wasn't a selfish one.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," She annouces. Spencer nods in approval, pressing his forehead against hers as she finishes. She moans Spencers name aloud and Spencer wants to ignore it but he can't. Spencer cums soon after that, pulling out of the unnamed women beneath him

"Jesus," she breathes out heavy. Spencer laughs before looking at her.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," she says to him softly, "feel free to join me," she winks. Spencer just gives her a smile as she slinks away into the bathroom.

Spencer knew the drill. He didn't leave a note, he didn't ask her name because he wasn't planning on seeing her again. He sits a few minutes, redressing quietly and leaving quieter. He used to flinch when he shut the door but the hotel hallway was familiar to him now. Making eye contact with cleaning women and janitors who gave him what felt like knowing stares. Spencer was used to it, all of it - even if it was difficult.

Spencer doesn't feel like a slut. He probably should, but he doesn't really feel anything. He's doing the walk of shame, leaving her hotel room in the middle of the night and he just sorta.. doesn't care.

He wishes he did, but there's no time for that now. He checks the watch on his wrist, the time reading 1am and as if on cue, he yawns. His eyes are sleepy and he's rather exhausted, and he finds himself heading back to his own hotel in a tired daze

When Spencer returns to his hotel - he really can't sleep. He tries, laid in bed, tossing and turning for hours but it wasn't coming to him. They were supposed to be leaving the day after tomorrow, closed in by the weather that wouldn't let the jet take off so he was stuck there. He wanted nothing more than to get some rest, but it was fruitless. Spencer looks over at the pamphlet he picked up from downstairs - looking at all the different things that the hotel had going on. It says there's a live, late-night singer at the bar in the hotel. Y/N Y/L/N. He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands before standing up and putting back on his normal clothes. A live show and a drink might not be so bad, and maybe there's something (or really someone,) for Spencer to do.

He walks down at 3am, it'd only been an hour since he got back and it was still dark out. Everything was still as he walked into the hallway and elevator. every sound felt louder and more distinct. There wasn't a soul out there other than staff who was forced to work earlier shifts and other people doing the same walk of shame he was doing earlier. He can't bring himself to look at them, but Spencer was certainly understanding of them.

He manages to make it to the hotel bar, which was surprisingly nice - he has to admit. Lowlights and candelabras all over the place add to the ambiance, the ceiling mirrored as he looks to all the patrons in the bar. Mostly older men, drinking whiskey alone as typical as it was. There were some women that caught his eyes, but he's not ready to tango with someone like that so he orders a drink at the bar. He likes scotch on the rocks, but he's not really one to drink it often. One can't hurt, he doesn't think. The odd sense of isolation while being in a public place and the alcohol in his system might make him more tired faster. He doesn't want another one-night stand but that loneliness hits quickly, and his original plans may fall through.

He waits it out, sitting down at a chair near the small platform that served as a stage. He watches as on older gentleman picks the mic up, announcing that name he read earlier. Y/N Y/L/N.

He sees a woman walk up onto the stage, so beautiful he coughs on his scotch. A man across the ways looks to Spencer and laughs, nodding in understanding.

"Wait till you hear her voice," He says quietly. Spencer just nods, eyes fixated on the way you move. You look classic, hair let loose wearing a sequin dress. You weren't too flashy, but you definitely managed to catch everyone's attention. You had a jaded expression, eyes flashing up to the crowd softly. You look directly towards Spencer and give him a knowing smile. He was new, you'd never seen him here before.

"How's everyone doing tonight, hm? Can't be too well if you're here seeing me at 4am, but still good I hope," you say chuckling. It lightens the somewhat somber energy that seems to swallow the place up as the bar regulars and other lonely folks of the night all watch you. You laugh softly into the microphone.

"Anyone have any requests for me, or am I free to sing what I'd like?," you ask the small audience. Everyone gives encouraging whoops at the second option and you give that same lighthearted giggle that Spencers heart aches for. You were unbelivably beautiful, the light catching the highlights of your face as you look at everyone smoothly. You tuck some hair behind your ears as you look to the small band.

"Let's do the song I was practicing upstairs earlier," you call to them. They all nod their heads at you, as you clear your throat and take a sip of water.

"This song is called Downers, by Greentea Peng," you say softly. You start humming along with the music before you start to sing the lyrics and christ -

"I can't smell the flowers / felt empty now for hours / lost my powers / I can't smell the flowers / I'm sick of all these towers / think I done too many Downers," You sing the first verse with ease. Spencer's ears are so attuned to the music he can barely drink his scotch. Your voice is melodic, it flows out with no problem and soothes Spencer so much he feels like he could pass out right there. His eyes look to your expression, eyes closed as you smile at the self-aware lyrics of the song. Your body language is so comfortable with the words, he imagines the song is personal to you in some way.

"hard to see the value in these half-hearted encounters / can't deal with the truth so we just change the world around us / to feel and smell just like we want it to / fuck what we're meant to do / can't hang round be no fool / wasting time just getting high / getting high / to get by / clear my mind clear blue skies / all this time I've been flying from up here," You sing the runs with easy, your voice syncing perfectly with the music being played. Spencer's eyes don't leave you for even a second as he watches you sink in and become part of the music. Your shoulders fall, as you tap along the rhythm of the song before singing the chorus again, then delving into the second verse.

The first verse weighs on Spencer's mind as you continue onto the second and third verse. The lyrics of the song are as fitting to him as possible. It feels too relevant for Spencer to forget about it but he tries as you continue your performance, mixing modern radio ballads with older classics. Your voice is like medicine to Spencer's exhaustion, he wants to relax in the sound forever and his head's so fixated on you - he knows he needs to talk to you. To get to know you, something if anything. He doesn't remember the last time he's felt this strong towards someone but he'd be damned if he didn't chase it.

When you finish your performance, you collect tips from all the bar patrons and wish everybody a kind morning. Spencer didn't realize that another full hour had passed and he sees walking towards the bar so, in the least creepy way he can, he stands to follow you. You order a club soda and sit on the bench, where Spencer takes a seat next to you. You roll your eyes, but you'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive to you. You turn your body to face him and he shoots you smile in return.

"You're not one for subtlety are you?," you say softly as the bartender hands you your drink. You take a sip, feeling the cool relief on your worn throat. Spencer laughs, looking at the floor before looking back up at you.

"For a woman as beautiful as you? Can't say I am, no," Spencer says lightly. You roll your eyes but you're smiling into your drink as you do.

"What about flattery?," you ask again. Spencer chews the corner of his lips as his eyes grace your body, noticing the way your skin shows around the shoulders of your dress. He laughs.

"That one I can manage," Spencer's voice is a murmur. You put your drink down and readjust how you sit, looking at Spencer's face. You can see right through him, really. You can with most men, but especially someone who does what you used to do. You want to laugh at him and say theres no need for the formality but it isn't for the two of you. It's for the people in the bar who count the seconds before you two walk away together. You were going to fuck him, you knew that the second he sat so close during your performance but the rest of the bar didn't so the formal talk and idle chat is for them.

"I don't really do this very often -" Spencer starts. You roll your eyes, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"You're not a good liar, you know that?," you say softly. Spencer is startled but intrigued by your observation. He looks to you for an explanation and you just shrug at him. He looks into your eyes and it's like you see past him. He falters for a few seconds.

"Old habits die hard," you start first "picking up on when someones lying to sleep with me just happens to be one," you say, chuckling. You're not upset or sarcastic, simply laughing at the situation and reminiscing. Spencer shifts uncomfortably for a second, not really used to someone being able to see through him so quickly.

"I should be clear that I'd still like to sleep with you," you say, blinking through your lashes. Spencer nearly chokes when he hears, a blush forming on his face. It was becoming clear that you were gonna lead the way on this one.

"But don't be dishonest, it's boring - you yourself are probably more interesting than what you tell other people," you say thoughtfully. Spencers befuddled at how you just seem to know but you shake your head.

"I've made my rounds, men and women," you say casually. Spencer feels like he's dying at your confession but can't help himself - finding it beyond attractive that you managed both.

"What do you wanna know?" Spencer asks relaxed. You give him a small smile.

"What's your name? What do you do? Whats your star sign? The usual," you say jokingly. Spencer can't help but laugh, genuinely laugh.

"My names Dr. Spencer Reid, I work for the FBI for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and I'm told I'm a Scorpio," Spencer says, smiling. Penelope told him that forever ago though he hasn't thought about since then. You give him a grin.

"An FBI agent ? You must be here for all the murders they had in downtown, huh?," you ask curiously. He looks suprised but how in touch you are.

"I keep up with the news," you say casually. Spencer keeps learning about you and his attraction to you only increased. He nods, telling you you're right and you mentally high-five yourself.

"What do you wanna ask me?," you say, perching your lips out. Spencer looks at them before his eyes flick up at your eyes

"What else do you? Other than sing, I mean,"

You tilt your head in though for a second, before shrugging.

"For work? I make most of my money singing, anyways. I studied other stuff in college, but music is what I love to do and I make decent money off of working different celebrations. This bar gave me my first gig so I'm always here. Other than that, I volunteer at local stuff - gotta keep in touch you know?," you softly. Spencer looks at your expression with an adoration he can't explain. He finds himself speaking before he can think too much about it.

"I haven't been looked into like that before," Spencer blurts out. You chuckle.

"You said you do behavioral analysis, right?," you asks. Spencer nods.

"Trying to get someone to fuck you is esentially the same. You watch them and try to appeal to their situations so you get your result. You're a hunter, all the same. Sometimes it's killers and sometimes it's an attractive woman whose married but doesn't have her ring on - it's a mindgame," you say carefully. Spencer knows you're right but the way you say it so bluntly makes him feel a way. It's the first time a woman has made him this uncomfortable and in a fucked up way he's happy about it. It sounds cocky, but the challenge is attractive to Spencer. You weren't trying to isolate yourself from other women, instead just making a general commentary on human beings. You were intelligent.

"How could you tell?,"

"You're too well practiced with expression and stuff. Too much attention to detail," you reply.

"You're entitled to whatever but be careful with yourself," you warn. Spencer just listens.

"Full disclosure, I studied criminology in college - so I'm familiar with your work," you say a little shy, Spencer raises his brows and assures it's fine before you continue.

"You do what you do at work because it catches them. You can hold onto a happy ending and that's important," you say softly "But, sleeping around is a personal cause with no heroes you know? The loneliness will always come back, and those mind games you play just to get rid of it will start to fracture you," you say thoughtfully. Spencer feels some tears prick at his eyes but he covers them before he looks at you.

"I don't sleep around much anymore, but when I do - I can't promise I'll leave my name and number. Old habits, you know? But I see myself in you, the way you move is something I definitely recall," you say laughing. Spencer feels so damn weird - confused as to how you're so perceptive.

"Sorry to read you like that, I just like you. You're interesting," you say, cute as ever. Spencer is unbelievably attracted to you.

"I'm a little speechless," Spencer says laughing.

"Sorry?,"

"Don't be, but you feel like a sign to me," Spencer says softly.

"The woman I.. you know - earlier, I don't even remember her name," Spencer admits a little sadly. You shake your head, reaching out to grab his hand to provide him some comfort. He finds himself holding on.

"You learn to face the loneliness, and sometimes it makes cool stuff like this happen," you say giggling.

"I wanna remember your name," Spencer admits. You give him a small smile.

"Even after I just came for you and this is only our first meeting?"

"Especially because of that,"

You laugh aloud and Spencer notes how lovely the sound is. You look at him, before taking another sip of your drink. You stand tall, patting down your skirt before walking away, Spencer stars dumbfounded for a few seconds before he hears your voice.

"You coming?" You ask. Spencer couldn't manage to bolt faster. _____

"Can I kiss you?," Is the first question Spencer asks you when you end up in your hotel room. You laugh, looking into his eyes as the two of you stand in front of the hotel door. You put your hands on Spencer's waist, making your way up to his chest.

"It's all I've been thinking about for the last few hours so," you say softly. Spencer grins at you, leaning his head down before placing his lips on yours, slowly parting them to catch a little bit more of you. Its slow at first but only then, slowly the speed of each kiss inbetween picks up. Spencer's tongue nips yours, hands running your sides as he touches you hesitant. The whole gesture is hesitant still, though the heat is coming close to just being too much. You use your teeth gently to hitch Spencer's bottom lip and the gestures welcomed.

You pull away from Spencer to look at him, looking into his eyes with an affectionate need.

"Hey, Spencer?,"

"Yes?,"

"If you don't fuck the shit out of me, I don't think I'll ever forgive you,"

Spencer grins, before you give him a shy smile. Spencer kisses you again, the two of you moving to the bed soon after. Spencer sits on the edge of the bed, while you straddle him. Spencer's hands grip your backside. You let out a noise of suprise but Spencer just smiles, leaning his face into your neck. His teeth graze your neck, placing small kisses on patches of it as you tilt it up to give him more room. He nips at the area, sucking small hickies into it. His fingers work their way to the zipper of your dress as you lean into him, your hands on the side of his face.

Your dress falls off your shoulders, as you move back to take it off. Spencer's eyes watch you as you move out of it - throat dry as he sees that you're not wearing a bra. Your nipples come to attention at the cool air in the room and Spencer's hands move to touch you before he can think about it. He brushes them carefully, back and forth sending pleasure shooting through you rather unexpected. You managed to sit on Spencer's lap again before he continues but you whine with displeasure.

His eyes flick to you with curiosity but you don't have to explain much, simply undoing his belt, urging him to unbutton his shirt by tugging at it. He can't help his laughter as he looks at you adoringly.

"Impatient," he reminds you. You give him that same innocent look from before you as you nod at him.

"For you? Always," you reply back. Spencer leans in to kiss you again before he lets you sit in the bed, watching him undress as he did for you only moments ago. You drink in the sight of his skin, the way his hard-on sits in his boxers, standing to attention. You can't stop looking at it, the feeling of lust creeping at your throat.

"Spencer, lay down," you urge softly. He gives you a look of question but does as told, walking to the other side of the bed and laying down as he's told. He catches wind of your plan soon after, watching you take your panties off and revealing arousal that's managed to slide down your thighs. His throat catches but his silent request is soon fulfilled as you place for knees on either side of Spencer's head and settle yourself over his tongue. Spencer's hands grip your thighs as he places a few soft kisses on them, before arching his neck to meet your clit with his tongue. He's patient, flattening his tongue against your clit before motioning it back and forth. The feeling is so sudden, pleasure ripping through you as you use your hips to grind onto to Spencer's tongue.

You lean down over Spencer's cock, spitting onto the head before your mouth wraps around the tip. You use your hands to steady yourself before you bob your head, hollowing your cheeks out which makes Spencer choke. He had figured you'd both be good in bed but it's starting to be clear that it was a lot more than that.

Spencer feels good - so fucking good because he was just so attracted to you and the feeling of your mouth around his dick was working him. Your thighs moved so confidently to grind onto his tongue, using his face for your pleasure while returning the favor, you were more than good. Spencer feels you in his chest, twitching in your mouth when his mind feels with all the possibilities of what else he could do. It wasn't enough to taste you - he would keep seeking out your pleasure until the thought of him never left your mind.

This position was really just a competition to see who could make the other unravel fastest. The feeling of satisfaction he recieved when he feels you pulsate around his tongue is unmatched - the sound of tone throat gagging as you moan out some version his name, cumming all over his face but not stopping your hips. Spencer can taste you everywhere and you taste as good as you look. He's unsure of how you've managed that but he's pleased. You ride your high before you life yourself off of his face, switching yourself to be positioned over his dick. You're more than ready to do that but Spencer's stops you, looking into your eyes as he sits up. You sit between his legs but he moves you up - positioning you to expose yourself too him. Easy access.

Spencer pushes his two middle fingers between your lips, which part for Spencer easily. Your tongue wraps around them, sucking them obediently and Spencer smiles at you. He pulls them out for you, sliding his thumb along your clit before slipping his fingers inside of you, curling them up inside of you. You lean, gripping onto Spencer's shoulder letting out whimpers next to his ear. He brushes against your gspot with ease, padding against it with rhythm. The feeling makes your legs shake, Spencer already close to bringing you to orgasm and despite his somewhat aching wrist makes sure the speed is consistent.

"Spencer, please - oh my god please," this is the first time you've addressed Spencer directly and it makes Spencer's whole body ache to fuck you.

"You're beautiful," Spencer breathes out. You pull away from his shoulders and put your hands on the side of his face, kissing him intensely as you looked into his expression. You're quick to cum a second time , convulsing around his hands a second time as you hold onto his back, fingernails digging in his skin as your whole body lights up in fireworks. Moans pour from your throat as you finish, riding out your high as Spencer slows

"Spencer," your voice is unsteady as you call out to him. He hums in response and you look at him, making eye contact.

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?," you breathe out. Spencer can't help the little giggles he lets out before nodding, kissing you softly.

"Seems like you've beat me to asking," Spencer says. You kiss Spencer once more, softly and slowly before smiling in his shoulder.

"Mm, fuck me," you say giggling. Spencer laughs before he repositions himself to penetrate you, pulling out a condom from the drawer and rolling it down his erection. He lines himself with your entrance, slowly but surely watching you sink down on his cock. He chokes as he feels you around him - tight and warm and wet, taking him so well. Spencer stretches you out better than you were expecting - a burning ache as Spencer pushes towards your cervix. He's buried in you, fingers holding you up for a second.

Spencer holds you up before laying you down, hands pinning yours above your head before pulling his hips back and pounding into you. Spencer voice groans out in your ear, his orgasm drawing him closer and closer to the edge.

You use your fingers to run out one final orgasm, convulsing around Spencer which makes his whole body ache.

"I'm gonna cum," Spencer announces.

"Cum in my mouth?," you offer Spencer. He groans aloud, pulling out and sliding the condom off before positioning himself over your face. You adjust yourself by lifting yourself up on your elbows, allowing Spencer to ease into the back of your throat. Spencer lets go as soon as he does, finish in your mouth where you swallow immediately, eyes glassy as you look up at Spencer. You give him a smile, opening your mouth to show that it's all swallow, before laying back down again exhausted.

"Jesus Christ, Spencer" you say softly. He gives you a small smile.

"You should get some rest," Spencer says softly. You roll your eyes, sitting back up before leaning your head on Spencer's shoulder.

"Mm if I did that, would you be here when I woke up? Nice try, lover boy," you say. Spencer laughs, voice soft as the sun starts to rise outside.

"I'm gonna shower, and since neither of us are sleeping - you can take me to breakfast," you say, standing up and giving Spencer a kiss atop his head.

"Disappear on me and I'll book a ticket all the way to Quantico and embarrass you infront of your whole team," you say jokingly. Spencer hugs your waist as you stand and you can't help the way it melts you.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Spencer replies back. You use your hands to make him look st you and smile at him.

"Good. I'd invite you to come shower with me but I'm gonna guess you need clothes so - meet me downstairs in the lobby in like 30 mins," you instruct. Spencer just nods.

"I need your number," Spencer asks. You look into the drawer and lean down, writing your number on his chest. He looks down at it and smiles. He can see himself in the mirror, noticing you wrote it backwards so he could see it. God, Spencer is into you.

"I'm sure it'll wash off," you say smiling. Spencer rolls his eyes, the hickies you managed to bite into his skin making irony very clear. You give him a cheeky look and he can't help but laugh.

"Y/N," Spencer says to himself. You look at him confused and he just shakes his head.

"You're too fascinating to forget," Spencer says smiling. You can't help but grin, leaning down to kiss him.

"So are you, Dr. Spencer Reid,"

____

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @pastanest @nomajdetective @iamburdened

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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blueeyedrichie · 4 years ago

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okay as a ~*~*distraction*~*~ what part time job do you think each loser would work in the 00’s au? (or any timeline you want)

oop piggybacking off my last ask to add that I personally love Richie working at a movie theater/video rental/store like Newbury Comics (idk if that’s a national chain or not)

okay i’m not joking when i say that i read the first ask and was like “RICHIE VIDEO RENTAL STORE” and then saw your second ask and i fully screamed bc of course we would have the same brain once again :’) soooooo

richie: i’m fully thinking that like he would work at some local place when they are still living in derry, and when they move away for college he would work at blockbuster and think it’s literally the coolest thing ever. like he’s FINALLY gotten to the highest tier of video rental stores. and the other losers are like “dude you do realize that like rental stores are a dying business right” but richie works there til the bitter end, a big part of that being that all the kids that come in think his voices are super funny, like whatever movie they rent richie will talk to them in the voice of the main character or something and it’s just really fun for him. also free candy, helloooo? and the losers are all v supportive and come rent movies from him specifically. and he also tries to get eddie to go into the 18+ room, and eddie’s like “dude we literally are 20 years old, it’s not like we have to sneak in” but richie just thinks it’s funny and so sometimes they’ll run in there together only to run back out giggling like little kids because it’s fun and they can (pls ignore that my timeline here is probably way off from the actual 00′s au i’m just ~doin what i want~) and i think toward the end of working here is when he’d really start to focus more on like his rtvf degree bc i love that for him and he’d get his first dj job while he’s still in school

eddie: mechanic shop!!!!!! let that boy enjoy his love of cars!!!!!! again, he’d work at a local place until they move and tbh probably have a hard time finding a solid job because he just has the little bit of experience from derry. but with the support of his friends and his determination he finally lands a job at a pretty reputable mechanic shop in new york (i’m just going with new york but i mean they could be anywhere) and he quickly becomes one of their top mechanics. he also is taking automotive technology classes and i imagine him getting an internship or something and getting to work on really fancy cars and stuff, though he truly prefers working on like old cars and helping his friends out. he fully teaches richie how to change the oil in his truck at some point bc he gets sick of richie always taking it in for something so simple and paying for it with his ~blockbuster savings~ and he also shows everyone how to change their tires :’)

stanley: i think stan would volunteer at like zoos and animal adoption places. at first he’s mainly just like a janitor and cleans up the walking paths and runs concessions and stuff, which he’s honestly okay with because he gets to spend a lot of time just bird watching and admiring the animals and practicing his bird calls. and i think once they all move, he’d get a position at a big zoo as like a guide and he would teach lessons on how to tell different birds apart and how to do bird calls. i think even when he does get the job, he’d probably still volunteer at animal shelters on the side and he’d be the person in the room with the people who will potentially be adopting to see how the animals respond and he gets to decide if they get to adopt or not

mike: i really love the idea of mike working in antique shops. i can see him falling in love with some little shop in derry that is probably on its last legs and asking for a job, and they probably tell him they don’t need the help but he is persistent and basically ends up just working there and while they can’t afford to pay much, they let him take random things he finds home. of course, along with all the trinkets there would be tons of old literature there and he’d spend a lot of his time reading. in new york, he’d probably be in search of similar shops that he can fix up and find more cool items, and he always gifts each of the losers cool things he finds that makes him think of them. i can also definitely see him working in the university library sometimes, but i think he’d love finding old photos and books and knick knacks and learning about where they all came from

beverly: honestly i think bev would work at a movie theatre, but spend almost all of her time flipping through magazines and drawing up sketches of clothing and listening to music. she starts at concessions and moves up to box office, and she definitely sneaks the other losers in to watch movies for free. she and richie argue about whose job is better and who has the better candy (it’s literally all the same, eddie will tell them) and she also gets to bring home movie posters and distributes them amongst the losers. she definitely gets caught letting them all in for free movies and has to stay late to mop the theatre floors, but little does her boss know that the losers will continue to sneak in anyway and help her clean up. i think she’d keep working there until she gets an internship with a designer. all the losers keep the movie posters that she’d given them over the years

bill: bill works in used bookstores and libraries, and also prefers to accept his pay in the form of taking as many books home as he can. he’s usually there on his own, and he always brings notebooks (this dude can’t afford a laptop yet okay) with him so that he can write his own stories when he isn’t reading. i also can fully see one of the gifts that mike gives is a typewriter to bill that he finds in one of the antique shops :’)) the shops in derry aren’t very busy, so he gets to spend most of his time there reading not only novels, but also books on being a writer and this is where he learns a lot about becoming an author. in ny, i can definitely see him being a library aide and i just have a very vivid image of bill on one of those slidy ladder things looking through the books on the top shelf and being mesmerized by just how much there is to read. even when he isn’t actually working, he’s in a corner of the library working on his original works and just enjoying the atmosphere

ben: ben works at a comic shop, but most of his time is spent sketching buildings and rearranging the store shelves so that it’s neater and makes more sense in the aspect of ~architecture~ and his boss is like in true shock every time he comes into the store in the morning and finds not a single comic out of place like he always did with the people that worked there previously. he draws inspo for big, fancy buildings from things he sees in the comics and likes to redraw them to a realistic scale and imagine what they would look like in real life. the losers of course love to visit him here as well, and they help him choose his best sketches to create a portfolio before they go off to college where he presents it to his professor who would honestly be pretty impressed by it all (and i’m thinking would prob be like “is this the building from ~insert comic here~ and ben would be like YES) and that’s how he gets an internship in architecture

AHHHHH this got so fucking long omg thank you for sending <33333

#rchtzr #meg ily this was rly fun #the losers club #00s losers au #yeah I’ll tag that LOL #I’m having so many thoughts omfg

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dowoonie-namjoonie · 4 years ago

Text

All You Need is Confidence

Paring: Teacher!Jae x Student!Reader x Teacher!Wonpil

A/N: IDK why but I’m on a student-teacher kick, probably because I’ve been watching PLL again so...ENJOY! BTW, if you like this I’m probably going to make it a series because why not! If this does make you uncomfy, I suggest you don’t read it.

Warnings: Student-teacher relationships, poly relationship, slight age gap, minor language, and suggestive themes.

(Unedited, and also there will be a second part!)

High school was not fun, you know how people say it’s one of the best times in your life, well you have reason to disagree. Senior year was the most stressful to you, purely because of the inevitable change from childhood to adulthood when you go to college. That pressure to instantly grow up scared the ever-living shit out of you without fail.

However, school wasn’t always that bad, your senior year was bad, yes. But, three people in your life made sure on their lives that you’d have the best year ever. Number 1, your best friend Kang Younghyun. Both you and him were senior this year, Younghyun always had a higher work ethic than you. Motivated to do anything and everything, honestly, his main goal was to travel the world by himself. By far, he was the most daring, independent person you’d ever met, he had confidence practically radiating off of him. So, you can imagine that there was never a dull moment with him.

Number 2 and 3 go hand in hand. Mr. Park Jaehyung and Mr. Kim Wonpil, they made sure the hallways were a safe place and more importantly that class was never plain. Mr. Park and Mr. Kim are best friends from what you know ever, they even went to this high school just like you and Younghyun. Even though they were best buds, they were complete opposites.

Mr. Park’s english class was eventful. Mr. Park hated homework so he rarely gave it, said he “doesn’t believe in it.” Most of the time he’d spend class talking to kids about video games, giving so advice to novices to the games he liked. Of course he actually taught...once a month maybe! Mr. Park was just one of those cool teachers who didn’t teach, but yet someone taught you everything you need to know about the world. Weird how that happens. Commonly, people knew him as a young teacher-same with Mr. Kim-even romanticizing the man. Most of your girlfriends swooned over either one of the teachers: But, hey you had to admit it, you definitely had a crush on Mr. Park.

Mr. Kim, on the other hand, taught a tedious government class. Mr. Kim seemed to always be second whenever compared to Mr. Park, it kinda made you feel guilty having liking the one out of the two. They both were equally good people, but since Mr. Park is barely a teacher people just like him more. You see, Mr. Kim taught, there was nothing he loved more than giving 30 slides worth of a powerpoint, making you take pain-staking notes every-other day. Mr. Kim was popular more on his visuals and how shy he was. Mr. Kim could get flustered about anything and everything, once a kid in your class asked to go to the bathroom because he needed to take a shit, and Mr. Kim blushed rocking back and forth on his chair all because how the kid worded his sentence. Mr. Kim was adorable in a I-can-make-fun-of-him way, maybe it was teenage hormones but you had a crush on him too. Ah, but the crushes you had would never go anywhere...right?

Anyway, the theme between them two was that you always went to them when you were upset. Both teacher took a liking to you because of your playful nature and natural sense of what they taught. Your intelligence seemed to impress most people, but you had to admit when you had your downfalls, especially when learning what the difference of absolute monarchy and constitutional monarchy. Civics wasn’t your strong suit. In english class, Mr. Park would make you stand out from the class making fun of every detail about you, Mr. Kim had empathy for you. Tutoring you in a heartbeat whenever you had trouble in his class, which seemed frequent. No matter how much Mr. Kim would hate to admit it, but he didn’t mind your merciless teasing, so of course you were his favorite student. Still, they both helped you through thick and thin. Like today.

Today, today was not your day. Earlier this morning Younghyun told you he was going home early sick, so you needed to get another ride home. Or you’d have to take the bus home, which was a no-go for you since taking the public bus freaked you out. You don’t know, the fact anyone could sit next to you made you paranoid. What if it was a serial killer, who planned on following you home and killing you? See, paranoid.

Then this girl in your class ruined your whole project, a fucking group project, those you despise. Why was it fair to be partnered up with people who, simply, didn’t care about their grade just like you did. This girl proved this fact almost definitely, for your chemistry class, you were supposed to build a representation on how electrical currents go through objects. You being you, took on the roll easily, priding yourself with most of the difficult things. The one thing she needed to do, that ignorant bimbo, was to bring a potato and toaster. So, the chemistry project was left with an F.

When you got frustrated you cried, unfortunately this flaw was seen by everyone in your chemistry class. Leaving you the laughing stock of the school for at least the next few weeks. The stares from people-even the mocking laughing, made your spiral. And why, all because of a stupid girl who couldn’t do her part in a simple project. Embarrassing yourself further, you decided to run out of class to the nearest person who could help calm you down.

Panic filled you as you ran through the, just nearly, populated hallways. As you sobbed down, people looked at you like you were some crazy person on the brink of a full-blown breakdown. In these situation where you had minor panic attacks, you would run to yours and Younghyun’s meeting place. The janitors closet that no-one dared to go into, no one but you and Younghyun. Since, he left earlier because he’s sick, there was only one other place where you could go besides the unhelpful guidance counselors that would give you shitty life advice and send you back to class. No, Mr. Park could help you, he always managed to make you feel better.

People were insatiable, desperately trying to shatter you into a million pieces as you made your way to Mr. Park’s english room. Thankfully, and ironically, for you the bell had rung in the knick of time. Mr. Kim noticed a heap of students outside his classroom, crowded together whispering insults at god knows what. When he heard your name strun into the mix, he realized you were standing in the middle of this crowd, holding yourself trying to hide your tears.

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Kim exclaimed, grabbing the attention of the students, who seemed more flabbergasted than anything. Mr. Kim never yelled. “Clear out, now!”

The man had never looked more serious, a demanding tone riddled in his voice, his eyes like a black-hole to those who opposed him, and his hands put on his hips. So, this is what he’s like when he’s angry. His anger helped you, students cleared out into other room, lingering students were shoved away into the bathrooms fearing of a write up. Still, you stayed on the ground hiding your tears, Mr. Kim coming up in front of you, the tap of his shoes alerted you.

“Y/N,” he started, voice getting closer as he kneeled down. Sure, he’s seen you upset thousands of times, but out of those times you haven’t cried once. There was no time due to your whining and yelling about whatever set you off that day. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Mr. Kim was concerned, per usual he had empathy for you, upset himself because you were crying. He could never tell why, but he hated when you were angry or sad, he just couldn’t stand it.

“N-No...,” you whipped a tear, looking up at his face. Being met with pure handsomeness, but there was no time to be entranced by his record-breaking looks. “Can-Can you take me to Mr. Parks...please, I need to talk to him-to both of you. Is that okay?”

Mr. Kim was taken aback, luckily for him and Mr. Park had no class, lunch break comes with perks. “Of course it’s okay, let’s go, everything will be okay.” Mr. Kim put a hand on your back, tapping you lightly to encourage you to get up. Complying, both of you made it to Mr. Park’s, just catching him in the middle of taking a bit of his tuna sandwich.

“Oh hello...oh no,” his sandwich dropped onto the desk upon seeing you blotchy face. Uncomfortable sight to see. “Y/N, Wonpil what’s going on?”

Mr. Kim lead you to a nearby desk, out of all the empty ones he put you directly in front of the teachers desk.

“I’m not sure,” Mr. Kim started, backing away from you as you convulsed with a sobbing fit. “I found her like this in the hallway.”

Mr. Park clicked his tongue, looking around his desk for some unused tissue and a free water bottle. Oddly enough he had both of those things tucked away in his desk. Strutting over to you, he gently held the tissue up to your face, dapping off some stray tears, in the process placing the water bottle next to you.

“Just calm down okay,” Mr. Park muttered, focused on cleaning you up.

Mr. Kim came up behind him, reaching for the water bottle and opening it up for you. Carefully, Mr. Park withdrew his hand, letting Mr. Kim give you some water. Even then, you didn’t calm down, concerning both of the men when you started hyperventilating. Today was just one of those days. The whole ordeal rang through your head, no one could ever look at you the same ever again. Look at you now crying in front of two men, who you adore, sullying everything they knew about you. The thought that your life was over made your panic attack protrude, increasing your talent of overthinking.

“What’s going on Jae,” Wonpil kept his eyes on you with pure worry in his eyes. Wonpil has never experienced a panic attack before, let alone even seen one in person.

“She’s having a panic attack um...I’ve got this.”

Mr. Park stepped up to you again, making sure you could only focus on him. He placed his hand on your lower thing, squeezing lightly, placing his forehead against yours. Both him and you made a deep eye contact, calmingly he said “Y/N, calm down, everything’s going to be okay.” When you didn’t respond to him, instead you ignored him, he began tapping in a pattern on your thighs.

“Y/N,” he tried again, keeping up with the pattern. “Focus on my fingers, okay? Focus on how I’m tapping you, okay?”

Listening to him, you began to calm down, feeling his tapping. One time on the right, next on the left, then on the right, then on the left...

“That’s it,” he began, not giving up on the tapping, pulling you back to reality.

“I’m okay...okay...I’m okay,” you spoke up, swallowing back the horrible panic you just felt.

Mr. Park pulled back, proud of himself that his efforts to calm you down worked, Jae was experienced with panic attacks. Although it killed him to see you like that, he’s just glad you came here for him to help you.

With the tissue, you rubbed your face and nose of any liquid that came out of you. Both men looked at you in waiting for your next move, they didn’t know what could throw you off.

But, someone had to speak up at some point. “Do you want to talk about it Y/N?” Mr. Park’s question made you shake, Mr. Kim noticed this nodding him off.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Mr. Kim spoke, putting a loving smile on his face to hopefully not start up another panic attack. “Um...Why don’t we do something? Yea, like...” Wonpil was at a loss, looking over to his best friend for something that could distract you in this moment.

“Y-Yea,” Mr. Park perked up, jumping to his desk to find anything to help you regulate yourself. The only thing he had that was remotely fun and not school work, was a Christmas word search he’d given the freshman class he taught yesterday. “This, we can do this word search!”

“Yes, a word search!” Both teachers yelled excitedly, Mr. Park placed the word search on his desk, Mr. Kim beckoning you to come over to them to do the word puzzle.

You knew what they were trying to do, but really you were in exactly no position to deny the men who just helped you through that. After all, they were making you feel better. Like a snail, you slid off the desk, trudging your way over to both of the enthusiastic men sitting in Mr. Park’s spinny chair that they pulled out just for you. Mr. Kim placed a pencil in your hand, sliding the paper more towards you, meanwhile Mr. Park pulled up two chairs for him and Mr. Kim to sit in next to you. Sitting down next to you, the both watched you complete the puzzle, randomly helping you throughout.

Mr. Park and Mr. Kim had a secret, an unspoken secret between the two of them. Even if it was left untouched and talked about, both men new that both of them had a crush on you. They were disappointed, even discussed in themselves that they liked you, but you didn’t make it any easier either. They felt the need to protect you, constantly, the need to make you happy when no one else could are their duties. For Jae, he started to like you when you promptly scolded him for being a horrible teacher, but an amazing guy. From that day forward, you and Jae formed a bond where you made fun of eachother with hidden love. For Wonpil, it’s when you defended him when people were making fun of the way he got flustered. He just knew you were the one, no ones ever defended him that way. The more you came to talk to them, the more their feeling began to grow for you. Ditto, same thing happening to you.

All of it happened so fast, Mr. Park was lost in thought about you. Delicately, he watched you as you tried to figure out the puzzle. Even though your face was red, eyes swollen, and nose runny Jae still admired your looks. The way your face was scrunch up in determination to defeat the puzzle, the way you bit your lip, or the way your soft looking hair fell on your face-

Reaching out his bigger hand, he wisped a stray piece a hair from out of your face, getting a better look at your beauty. But then you turned to him, with your wide E/C eyes and a cute pout on your face, he just couldn’t help himself. His hand moved from your, now proven, soft hair. Stroking his way to cup your cheek, his callassed thumb ran across your bottom lip. The plumpness fueling him more, before you both knew it his lips were on yours. His lips encased yours, the sudden feeling making you whimper under him, the only word to describe how it felt was euphoric. First you were shocked, not expecting your teacher to touch you, let alone kiss you. Then, a feeling bubbled in you, your stupid crush and all the fantasies you’ve had about him made you melt into him. Closing your eyes, beginning to kiss him back, your hand met grasped his shirt, pulling him further into you. Kissing Mr. Park was something else.

#day6 #day6 wonpil #day6 jaehyung #Park jaehyung #Jae #Kim wonpil #wonpil #day6 fluff #student-teacher #forbidden romance #day6 network #day6 fanfic

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sunshineseung · 5 years ago

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First Kiss // Seungmin

💌 Info: Stray Kids Seungmin x gender neutral!reader fluff 💕 Includes: First kiss, teasing from your friends, crush to ??? idk it’s cute just read it please ✏️ Word Count: ~1.1k

You have had a crush on Seungmin for what seems like forever. Although you were just classmates, hardly even friends, you still always found your mind wandering to him. The idea of him hugging you, holding your hand, or even kissing you gives you butterflies in your stomach.

Your department was having their semester festival tonight. You were ready to talk, dance, and drink as a celebration for the end of the year. Of course, the night would not be complete without your small, but close, group of friends around you.

The four of you sat at a table, waiting for a waiter to come take your drink order. The stars had aligned that night, but they were not in your favor. The waiter made his way towards your table, and to your surprise, it was Seungmin.

“Hey Seungmin, can we get a round of soju?” Your friend, Jisung, noticed the worry on your face and ordered so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. Seungmin made his way back towards the bar, getting your group your drinks.

“Y/n, now’s your chance.” Hyunjin nudged your elbow and winked, making you laugh. “You got to make a move.”

“No chance, Hyunjin.” You looked down at your hands folded on the table. You twiddled your thumbs together while pondering your friend’s suggestion. Should I?

“C’mon, Y/n! What do you have to lose!” Felix patted your back in an attempt to bring you back to Earth from your spiraling thoughts.

“What do I have to lose?” Your voice raised. “I don’t know, Lix, maybe my dignity? My confidence? My love? No. No way. Not doin’ it.” You folded your arms, digging your heels into your denial.

“You’ll regret that.” Jisung shrugged, looking over to the other two boys. Soon after, Seungmin returned with the soju. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Jisung whispering into Hyunjin’s ear. Nothing good can ever come from that.

When Seungmin placed the bottle in front of you, Hyunjin’s elbow accidentally knocked the bottle onto your lap, luckily not breaking any glass until it hit the floor. Your thighs were covered in spilled soju, and the bottle loudly shattered onto the cement floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Seungmin jumps and runs to get paper towels while you wipe your jeans off with napkins. “Here, take these.”

You continue to wipe, now with paper towels. A janitor walks over to the table, eyeing the mess of shattered next to you.

“Ma’am, please move, I need to clean.”

“Yeah, no problem. Sorry.”

You dipped out of the venue, although you could have stayed at the table. You hung your head low, still attempting to dry your legs. When you finally exited the bar, you were frozen. So many emotions were going through your head. You were so painfully embarrassed, Hyunjin making you look like a fool in front of your crush.

You found a bench outside and quietly sat down, looking out to the streets. It was relatively empty out. It was calming. The thought of Seungmin left your mind for a moment, but not all peaceful moments can last.

“Is this seat taken?” Seungmin, no longer wearing his apron, points to the empty bench seat next to you. You silently shake your head, and he sits down next to you. It feels like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, but you keep your focus on drying your legs with the fairly soaked paper towel.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Your gaze stays low, but you can feel his eyes focused on you. Your hand freezes, and your fists become clenched around the paper towel. You feel like your heart is going to explode at any minute, and unbeknownst to you, Seungmin feels the same way. “You should head back inside. I’d hate to have you miss the celebration to sit next to me.”

“Maybe I like it.” Seungmin’s hands are folded in his lap, and he twiddles his thumbs together nervously. “Maybe I like spending time alone with you.”

Your heart stops beating, and your eyes widen. You look over, finally making eye contact with him. You lean forward, and he does the same. Your lips crash together, and both of you are new to the feeling. After a moment of panic and uneducated floundering, you both melt into the kiss, and it feels like fireworks going off in your brain.

You back away first, hardly wanting to end the kiss, but rather stopping out of fear that someone would see. You both awkwardly laugh, and Seungmin rubs the back of his neck. There is no eye contact; there is no talking. Blissful silence coats the situation, and when your eyes do meet his again, you feel at peace with the situation.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Seungmin holds his hand out to you, gesturing for you to hold his hand to rejoin the others. You gently nod and take his hand in yours. His hand perfectly fits with yours, and you both feel comfortable.

The glares from your table of friends are awful. They’re all smirking, and they know damn well what just went down outside of the pop-up-bar. You’re hesitant to join them, almost afraid of what they’ll say, and Seungmin squeezes your hand and marches towards them with you close to his side.

“So, did he taste good, Y/n?” Hyunjin’s question makes you blush, but the boys all giggle from the comment. Seungmin looks over to you and smiles. God, his smile is perfect.

Seungmin’s smile lights a fire inside you, and you regain every ounce of confidence you once lost in his presence. “Yup, he tasted great.” You laugh at the other boys’ shocked expressions from your quip. Seungmin blushes even harder than you and giggles, looking into the distance to avoid eye contact with the boys who are also his classmates.

Seeing his flustered reaction, you kiss his cheek, perking him right up. Your friends have their fair share of “ooh”s and “ahh”s, but you choose to ignore them. Your focus is on the boy of your dreams, his eyes full of stars, and his quivering lips.

“Seungmin,” a man from behind the bar yells, “get back to work!”

“Coming, Chan!” Seungmin hurridly holds both of your hands in his and faces you. “Text me later, okay babe?”

“B-babe?”

“Are you okay with me calling you that?” He immediately regrets his choice of words.

“... Yeah, I like it.” Your reassuring smile makes his stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Alright, see ya!” He lets go of your hands and kisses your forehead, lips lightly pressing against you for a moment before he’s off behind the bar.

…

“So, are you gonna suck his dick?”

“JISUNG!”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fiction #skz fanfic #skz fan fiction #kpop fan fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids seungmin #skz seungmin

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lybomb · 6 years ago

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̳𝚒̳ ̳𝚑̳𝚊̳𝚝̳𝚎̳ ̳𝚢̳𝚘̳𝚞̳

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟖𝐤

𝐟𝐨𝐫 @dearjohnnyseo ❤️

To: Asshole Johnny

We need to talk

From: Asshole Johnny

Yes, we do 😉

To: Asshole Johnny

This isn’t a time for jokes

From: Asshole Johnny

Sorry, babe

To: Asshole Johnny

Don’t call me babe

From: Asshole Johnny

Sorry. Baby it is then😄

To: Asshole Johnny

Listen, idk what happened today, but we don’t tell ANYONE about it, okay?

From: Asshole Johnny

What’s wrong with telling everyone the real reason you were screaming my name?😏

To: Asshole Johnny

Because I’m supposed to hate you, not be fucking you in a janitor’s closet!

From: Asshole Johnny

You clearly don’t hate me after that😈

To: Asshole Johnny

Well, idk what I’m feeling about you right now but I know for a FACT if you tell anyone about what happened, I’m cutting your dick off

From: Asshole Johnny

I won’t tell anyone… on one condition

To: Asshole Johnny

Oh god, what

From: Asshole Johnny

I come over and finish what I started

“Oh, fuck you, Seo.” You whine out, throwing your phone in your lap. He just HAD to make this difficult. Sighing loudly, you pick up your phone again, answering him,

To: Asshole Johnny

Fine. You better make it worthwhile

You send him your address, thanking whatever higher beings that your roommate isn’t home for the week, having to go back home for something.

From: Asshole Johnny

Oh don’t worry. I will, baby😏😘

“Ugh!” You throw your phone down again. You trek downstairs, waiting for him. If he’s really going to ruin your night in like this, it better be good. You never meant to fuck Johnny in a closet today at school. You were just feeling… needy. And he was the only one there who would do it. He noticed you squirming in your seat during class and asked you what was going on. You told him that nothing was wrong, but he noticed your blush and the particular way you clenched your thighs together while talking to him. Yes, Johnny is attractive, but he’s an asshole to you. He always teases you, always nice to your friends but not you. He purposely ignores you, pissing you off. You told everyone you hated him multiple times. You never thought that it’d be him, pounding into your wet pussy while you’re trying to not scream his name…

The ding of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts. You feel yourself already a little wet from just remembering from what happened earlier today. You push those thoughts away as you open your door.

“Listen, Johnny-” You can’t even get your sentence out as Johnny grabs your face, forcing his lips on yours. He slams the door close, pushing you to the nearest wall. He traps you in between him and the wall, his boner poking at your leg. Your hands find themselves running against his chest, lifting his shirt. He throws it off of his body and grabs yours. He throws it somewhere but not wasting a second to attack your mouth again. His hands immediately go down your pants and into your panties, playing with your clit.

“Already wet, I see?” He mumbles in your ear.

“It’s not because of you- oh, fuck.” You close your eyes as he pushes two fingers into you, ramming in and out. You hold onto his biceps as he mercilessly finger-fucks your wet pussy, chuckling at how easily you can become a mess. You moan his name, nails digging into his arms. He presses his thumb into your clit, swirling a little. “Shit!” You cry out. He watches your face twist in pleasure, remembering every detail of it. He loves as your mouth opens, moans falling out. He loves seeing your eyes closed from the pleasure, body shaking from how much you want his cock.

“You’re beautiful.” He says under his breath as your entire body shakes from your orgasm, juices flowing over his fingers. He smirks at you as you cry out his name while you reached your high, slowly letting go of him. You fall against the wall, already tired. He pulls his hand out and you watch as he puts his slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean from your cum, eyes never leaving yours. “Tasty.” He smirks after cleaning his fingers.

“Shut up, you freak.” You roll your eyes. He grabs your hand and takes you to the couch. He stops at the arm of the couch, facing you towards the couch.

“Ready?” He asks in your ear, his warm chest touching your back. You nod, wondering what he’s going to do with you. He pushes you face forward on the couch, ass in the air. He takes your pants and soaked panties off in one swift motion, exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air.

“Fuck, Johnny,” You whine out in frustration. You try lifting yourself up but he just pushes you back down. “What the fuck, asshole?”

“Just trust me.” Even though you usually wouldn’t, something about him taking control over your body, his hard cock collecting the wetness on your folds, makes you trust him. So you shut up and enjoy the ride, letting him do whatever he wants to you. You moan into the couch cushions, biting down on it as he enters you, big dick stretching you.

“Ow, fuck,” You cry out. He slowly goes all the way in you, stopping at the farthest point.

“You okay?” He asks. You swallow harshly and nod.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He rubs your ass gently before he pulls out and thrusts into you. You cry out as his hips slam into yours. Soon, moans are flying out of your mouth at a rapid pace, just like his dick sliding in and out of you. He grabs your hips forcefully, keeping you in place. “Ah, fuck, Johnny.” You groan out.

“Feel good, baby?” He grunts.

“Slap me!” You order. He doesn’t even think about it, he just brings his large hand against the bare skin on your ass, reddening it. “Fuck! Ah, again!” He slaps you again, harder this time. Noises come from the back of your throat, a mix of cries and moans as your pussy is getting destroyed but now your ass is too. He continues to slap your ass when he feels it’s necessary, adding more pleasure. The feeling in your stomach grows with each thrust, your walls closing around his dick. “I’m close!” you warn him.

“Do it, baby.” He gives you one last slap as you feel your second orgasm ripple through you, constricting your pussy, making it throb against his dick. You scream his name as you hear him moan your name, hips rocking into yours one last time before he cums in you. You can feel his seed overflow and slide down your legs. He pulls out, helping you stand up.

“Do you feel better now?” You ask him. But he just chuckles darkly.

“Oh, we’re not done, baby.” You look at him confused as he grabs your arm, forcing you to the couch. He makes you lay on your side.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he kneels over your right leg. He grabs your left leg, lifting it over his hip as he nestles in between them.

“Round two,” He chuckles.

“No, Johnny, I can’t. No more, please.” You plead. He doesn’t listen to you as he inserts himself again into you, hitting a different spot. Even though it feels good, your vagina is screaming in pain. “Johnny, please. I can’t.” Tears form in your eyes as he starts pounding into you again. You’ve never felt more confused. Your body wants you to stop but also keep going.

“Trust me. Please.” The way he says your name so sincerely, it makes you trust him again. You know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. In this moment, you know that you are his. He grabs your hip, thrusting in and out. He starts off slow, hoping that the pain disappears. He hears your whimpers change into moans, and he knows that he has you. He starts to snap his hips, cock forcing into you again.

“Ah, Johnny!” You cry out. Tears fall down your cheeks as you grab his forearm.

“Stop?” He asks. He’s concerned about your tears.

“No, keep going.” You demand. He listens to you, pounding into your sore heat. You and Johnny both moan each other’s names, the feeling of your orgasm returning. “I-I’m close.” You warn him again.

“Look at me.” He says softly. You twist your head to meet his. His face is full of pleasure, sweat falling from his forehead. His dark, brown eyes bore into yours as you feel your pussy contract again, orgasm racking your whole body. You scream his name, a rush of liquid coming out. Thighs covered, Johnny cums in you again, making the fluids mix. He groans your name while he cums, his eyes never leaving yours. He slows down his thrusts, pulling out once done.

“Look what you did.” You sniff out, wiping the tears from your face.

“Was I too rough?” He asks. He helps you sit up, holding you close to your chest.

“No, I’ve just never had anything like that happen to me before.”

“It’s because I was the one to fuck you.” The smug in his voice returns, which you groan.

“I still hate you.”

The next day at lunch, your friend Mark joins you. He looks at you with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, God, what?” You ask.

“You and Johnny, huh? I thought you hated him? So why was he balls deep in you last night?” The color drains from your face as you remember than Mark lives across the street from you. The curtains were open so he was able to see every single thing to happen. At that second, Johnny comes to the table, joining you two.

“Speak of the devil.” Mark laughs.

“What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?” He asks you.

“He saw us last night.” You mumble, wanting to go die under a rock.

“Mark saw us?” He asks you. You nod. “So that means he watched us?” Johnny turns to Mark. “Got something to say? Like a certain kink to tell us, Lee?” He smirks at Mark, which you and Mark both have your mouths wide open.

“N-No, it wasn’t like that!” Mark defends himself, voice cracking. “I wasn’t doing that on purpose!”

“Oh, really?” You join in with Johnny, love seeing Mark squirm.

“I swear!”

“So, you wouldn’t be able to tell me how many times I made her cum?” Johnny provokes. Mark goes red in the face and all of you knew that he knew that answer.

“Fuck you guys.” He mumbles as he leaves the table.

“That was pretty evil.” You point out.

“What? He deserves it for watching us.” It falls silent between you two.

“Question,” You say.

“Yes?”

“Are you… doing anything tonight?” You bite your lip.

“No, I’m not. Would you like me to come over and continue more?” He looks at you with his usual smirk.

“Yeah, I’d like you to.”

“I thought you hated me?” He chuckles.

“Not anymore.”

#johnny #johnny seo #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct request #nct 127 request #johnny x you #johnny x reader

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rezdogsyonder · 5 years ago

Text

Need (3)

Pairing: Professor!Rogers x Reader

Summary: The professor realizes just how mich he wants you.

Warnings: stalking, mention of blood.

A/N: This part will mostly be in Steve’s point of view. Kinda. I’ve decided reader wears glasses and idk why I wrote this, this way.

**********

‘Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be doing this.’ Steve thought as he kept following her from a safe distance.

**********

He wasn’t following you at first; he stayed back in his office for probably an hour...or three. He didn’t keep track. He needed to turn in a book, a history book for revision, and comparison. He is writing his own book, telling what actually happened while in the Howling Commandos.

By the time Steve got to the library the sun was setting, and it was a complete ghost town inside. Only spotting two people on his way to his destination. One of them being a janitor. The top floor of the library is where he needed to go, it’s where the special collection is kept. Normally these kinds of books aren’t allowed out of the library, but being older than most of the books in their library has its perks.

Putting the book back in its respective place, and about to return the checkout card, that is when I sees you once more. Hiding out in the back corner, at a table that is covered in notebooks and colorful pens and highlighters. Looking so deep in focus, biting your lip, and flipping through papers only to turn back to your notebook.

Hair tossed up in a messy bun. Glasses hanging at the end of your nose. You look at little bit more disheveled than what he remembered from a couple hours ago. White V-neck t-shirt under a navy blue cardigan. You looked beautiful.

Deciding to stay, Steve began to look through more history books, encyclopedias, and records that would help with his little project. If he was going to stay he might as well get some work done too.

He sat at a table across a very long isle from you. A seat that made sure he could still watch you, without you seeing. If he had, to he could just scoot his chair forward and he would be out of sight.

Steve is there for another 40 minutes or so before he sees her putting all of her notes away. He quickly stacked everything and put it all in his bag, then walking out before she sees him. Waiting by the entrance for you.

‘Why is she out this late? Doesn’t she know this is a dangerous city?’

Then he realized. He shouldn’t be here, he could get fired.

‘Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be doing this.’ Steve thought as he kept following her from a safe distance.

He was going to turn back, he really was, but she just seemed so vulnerable. How far does she live? ‘I’ll just make sure she gets home safe.’ He decides, but he truly know that now he’s hooked, and he’s not going to stop.

And he didn’t. He not only followed her home but he found out what apartment she lives in. First floor, not very safe, at least the windows to her home are high. Less of a chance of robbery. He also saw her roommate, he recognized her from the coffee shop. Watching her clean up her room Steve realized something.

He’s got it bad.

**********

He held himself back from following her again. Not really by choice. He didn’t see her at the library again. He also avoided the cafe she works at. Not wanting himself to get too close, too fixated. It has been three weeks though, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself from you. Of all of his classes, yours was his favorite.

You have his class twice a week, every Tuesday and Thursday. Both scheduled at 4:30. He has kept his distance and she has been nothing but a model student.

Steve needs a teachers assistant, and he thinks he’s already found her.

**********

The essays Steve had assigned are finally almost done being graded. Deciding to leave yours last. When he was done going through, your essay was nearly perfect. Maybe he was biased, but he really thought that you’re paper deserved an A.

A grade he rewarded to only six other people. He was going to write an A when an idea struck him.

He grabbed his red marker and marked the paper with a C, writing “see me after class”.

He smiled at his plan and quickly filed it into the bottom of the stack of essays to hand back as students began filing into his classroom.

It’s Thursday.

**********

You got to Mr.Lee’s class 15 minutes early as per usual. You like being a little bit more than punctual. This was one of your favorite classes to be in but to be honest you’d be glad when it’s over. Math made sense to you but it took work. A lot of work.

Last class, there was a test and you were dying to see how you did. Mostly because he said that this test will be just like the mid-term and a good chunk of the final. You tried really hard, going to the library more often than usual. Well, it isn’t a big accomplishment, you only go the the library once a week. For like 4 hours, but still.

You’re practically bouncing in your seat all class period, since the average score on the test for this class was 82% Mr.Lee thought that we can have a reward. It’s his top priority that his students are understanding his material, and that’s why you like this class.

We are currently watching a movie and those who wanted to leave could, but they would have to wait longer to view their score. You stayed because you worked too hard to wait any longer.

But finally the end of this class was drawing near, and Mr.Lee just checked his watch and was pulling out a big stack of papers. Trying to stay calm just in case your score was bad, and why did this class have to be so big?

He was finally get to you, and he set your packet face down on your desk. Did he put the other students tests face down? You weren’t even paying attention. Now that you have your test, you can leave the class.

Pulling out your phone you call a familiar number, “Wade?” You met him on you way to a book store last year, he actually saved you from being mugged when you thought it was a good idea to take a shortcut through a back alley.

“My common sense it tingling,” you hear him the material of his mask being moved around, “What did you do this time Y/N? Something that shows you’re intelligent I bet. That’s the main trope of your story’s character.”

“You know you don’t sense sometimes, but maybe! I took a test the other day and I’m scared to look. I was hoping a call to you would help calm my nerves.”

“Would an in person meet and greet help?”

“What do y—” you couldn’t finish your sentence before a body landed in front of you on the sidewalk. You let out a loud shriek, then you heard a voice.

“Holy fuck knuckles! That shit hurted.” And you realized who it was.

“Fuck I hate you sometimes.” You sighed.

“I’m hilarious so don’t hate. And that was about as much fun as a sandpaper dildo,” he sits up at looks at you, “wanna kiss it better?” He says gesturing to his backwards foot.

You bend over and turn it back around, despite his cry of pain. Then you offer a hand so he may stand.

You looked down, “ah shit you got some blood on me.” It was only a drop, probably the size of a quarter on your white boyfriend cardigan. Wade pokes his arm and draws a smiley, using the dot on your sweater as an eye.

“Gross.” You smiled.

“Hydrogen peroxide will get that out.” You nodded and began unbuttoning it to take it off. Leaving you in your baby pink cami that was tucked into your high waisted back jeans.

“So... Wanna see my score?” You held out the packet.

“Ah... mhmm... yes.” He mumbled through his mask as he flipped through the pages. “Y/N I’m sorry to have to tell you this but it looks as thought you’ll have to drop out.”

You hit him, “Shut up, let me see.” You snatch it out of his hand before you finished your sentence. By it before you look at your score you smiled at him, “I guess your ‘inperson meet and greet’ did help.”

93%. You were struggling in that class and this will surely boost your grade back up. Squealing you jump at Wade, hugging him. He twirled you around.

“Celebratory chimichangas?” He put you back down and began walking, knowing you’d follow.

“Yeah actually I have roughly an hour and a half before my next class.” You said you you looked down at your phone. “Where should we go?”

“There’s this beautiful woman that has a restaurant somewhere that way.” Wade said point in a general direction.

You didn’t really believe him but two blocks in the direction he pointed was a small restaurant. You wouldn’t have noticed it if Wade hadn’t pointed it out. The lady that ran it was a sweet little old woman.

The food was great, and Wade was able to keep you occupied the entire time. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed before there was only 5 minutes before your next class started.

“Oh SHIT! Fuck IM LATE!” You scrambled pull out your wallet, but end up spilling everything. Wade starts to help you pick up everything that fell out, he stood up with five of your notebooks.

“I paid ahead of time. Sorry read ahead in the script. But let’s go!” He waved at the little lady behind the counter. “Goodbye, my princess.” And blows her a kiss.

“Come on we have to run, slow ass.” he starts pulling you to go faster.

“Jesus, I’ve never been late before. Oh my god.” Starting to get out of breath. About a block and a half closer.

“Really? Never would have guess that.” He says sarcastically. You two are back on campus, and you need to pass two more buildings.

“There! It’s right there,” you say running faster, you get to the front of the building. Wade hands you back your notebooks. You lean over trying to catch your breath.

“4:28. Why was it so important to be on time to this class?”

“Well turns out Mr.America is also Mr.Punctuality.”

“Cap is your teacher? I better skedaddle before he try’s to cut off another arm. Goodbye sunshine.” He taps your nose. “Boop.”

“Bye!” You waved and headed inside, going to the second to last classroom on the left.

You check the time again 4:29, you weren’t late. But it looks like the teacher is going to be. All that worrying for nothing. Not knowing that you were the reason for his tardiness.

**********

Mr.Rogers did show up for class but was about five minutes late. Other than that class went on like normal, you took your notes and worked. Used to the feeling of somebody staring at you, you didn’t want to know who thinking that acknowledging them will encourage them.

‘Wow she looks so adorable, pink suits her well.’ He thought as he watched her, but he began to grow angry as he realized that these boys were looking at his girl.

It was nearing the end of class, so he began passing out the essays. Saving yours for last. Today’s class was small, most students skipped his class once they realized that he wasn’t going to talk about Captain America or the avengers.

Once he got to you he placed your essay on your desk face down gently. He felt a little bad, turning around quickly so he didn’t have to see the disappointment on your face.

You forgotten about the essay, but you thought you had done well when you turned it in. You were having a good day, but this just ruined it. A big C on the corner of your paper. You felt tears beginning to well in your eyes but you blinked them away before they could fall.

You look at the clock and there is 2 minutes left, but the professor dismissed everyone already. You begin packing your stuff up, when you feel a little chilly. Sighing you pull out your cardigan and look at the smiley. Maybe you’ll call Wade again after this. You put it on hoping people will think it’s just a cute little design.

The class was now empty and you walk to the office connected to this classroom. It was more plain than you’d expect, and a lot cleaner too. Almost every other professor’s office you’d been to had been a complete mess. He was sitting behind his desk.

“You said to see you after class?” You say timidly. He gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and you take a seat.

“Yeah let me see that,” he holds out his hand and you lean forward to give him your paper, “I just needed to talk to you.” He crossed out the C and wrote an A right next to it, and stood up.

“What did you need to talk about?” You felt a little better with an improved grade, but a nervous pit in your stomach began to form. We’re you in trouble? He walked around and leaned against his desk in front of you, handing your paper back.

“I have been needing to choose a TA for the semester, and I was wondering if you would like to fill that position?”

“Oh my gosh really? I would love to! What would I need to do?”

He smiled, “Well, regular TA responsibilities like grading, tutoring or mentoring students if and when they need help, stuff like that.”

“Wow, thank you for this opportunity.” At this point you wouldn’t be able to stop smiling.

“It’s no problem. This job will suit you, I can tell.” He sighs and rubs the stubble on his face. “But, you will have to sign a few papers.” He slid walked back behind his desk and pulled a small packet out of his desk drawer. “This isn’t what you would sign with other teachers, but I’m sure you’re aware of my previous profession.” You nodded. “This is just protecting my privacy and it’s basically saying that you won’t do anything that would take away that privacy.” He slid the papers over to you, then putting a pen on top.

“Yeah, okay.” You didn’t read through it before signing, as Mr.Rogers just explained it to you. You put the pen down. “What now?”

Yes, what now? Steve thought.

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fight-me-wyatt · 7 years ago

Text

Richie Tozier ~ Detention

Request/Prompt: "Ok so, for the prompt list u posted, can u somehow combine "i'm gonna marry her one day" (this wasn't on the list but it's so cute to me for some reason???) "don't be an ass" and "you're such a bitch" with 16/17 year old Richie? Like just overall super fluffy ?? Idk I'm just in the mood for sum fluffy richie... Love your writing by the way! ❤❤❤" from @evelxn-cruz on tumblr.

Ship: Richie Tozier x fem!reader

Summary: Richie gets the reader into detention, so she gets revenge by putting him into detention.

Type: fluff.... But not super fluffy, I'm super sorry to the person who requested!

Warning: Only warning would be swearing, I think.

Word count: 2971 (including A/Ns)

Hope you enjoy it. Let me know!

This isn't great, and it's quite different to what I usually do, and it's not very fluffy I don't think sorry!!! Let me know if you want another, more fluffy, one! Seriously just tell me to get my shit together lol.

Also, I know the teachers I'm using are from the elementary school in Derry, but let's pretend they're high school teachers as well lol. And idk the janitors name (I couldn't find it on the wiki) so I called him Jimmy and I didn't know of the shopkeepers name so I called him Mr. Davidson (no reason, just two random names I picked).

Not my gif, gif credit goes to @imultifandomstuff

Y/N POV

Richie fucking trashmouth tozier. That son of a bitch. How dare he think he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. I swear to god that god damned boy was going to be the death of me.

I stormed out of detention, earning a warning glare from Mrs. Casey, who had been marking papers for the last three hours that I had spent in the stuffy classroom.

I strode out of the school, passing only the janitor, Jimmy. I smiled and nodded to him.

We were on a first name basis because of the amount of time I spent in detention, which usually involved helping Jimmy. I did have a reputation of getting into trouble for the things I did. I had become infamous throughout the school, most known for the buckets and buckets of off milk I had tipped throughout the principal and staffs offices. It was worth the weekend I spent cleaning with Jimmy, who kept giggling as he watched me scrub with a surgeons mask over my nose and mouth.

This time however, was not something of my doing. I had just spent three hours writing out the dictionary because Richard Tozier had taken it upon himself to proclaim his "undying love" to me.

He did this by blowing up thousands of balloons and spreading them all around the school, each with a compliment, gushing about me, using my full name.

"Y/F/N, YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE QUEEN" read one.

"Y/L/N WONT BE YOUR LAST NAME FOREVER, SOMEDAY IT'LL BE MINE" read another.

This wasn't all he did though, oh no.

He had also spray painted the words "Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N is the most beautiful person I have ever seen." In big, bright letters across the lockers.

The school staff thought very lowly of the loving declarations, and because Richie had somehow managed to evade all suspicion (God knows how, we had been dating for nearly a year), the blame fell on me.

Not surprisingly, as I was known to have an ego 'as big as her tits' as Richie had once described.

The very few who did believe me when I said it wasn't me who had done this, told me that if I suffered the consequences, the person who obviously loves me so much would also be suffering to know they put me in detention.

I know for a fact Richie has no remorse and is definitely not suffering. He's probably even planning his next big plan.

As I pushed open the squeaky doors to the great outdoors, I took a big deep breath in of the sweet, sweet air of freedom.

I jogged down the steps, my doc martens hitting the steps rhythmically. I shrugged and pulled the collar of my leather jacket out, so that it rested more comfortably.

I heard a wolf whistle, and I snapped my head towards the loud, sharp sound, to see the guilty culprit leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette in his hand. Stan the man sat on the wall beside him, shrugging an apology to me.

I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. I walked slowly over to him, crossing my arms.

"You, Richie, are a dickhead." I said, laughing slightly.

I stole his cigarette from between his fingers and took a drag. Stan laughed and jumped down from the wall.

"Well," he said, slapping Richie on the back, "good luck, buddy" he chuckled, "see you later, Y/N/N" he strode off with hands in his pockets.

"DON’T THINK THAT I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU WERE THE ONE WHO HELPED HIM PULL THIS OFF, STANLEY, YOU BETTER SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN." I called after him, laughing as he turned and blew me a kiss jokingly.

I turned back to Richie as he tried to grab his cigarette back from me. Pulling it away from him and out of his reach teasingly, I looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"So,uh, Richie. I have to be honest with you..." I paused, biting my lip and he looked at me with alarm, suddenly nervous, "today... someone" I took a deep breath before continuing, "someone declared their love to me. And wow. Seems like you've got big competition. If you're not careful, this mysterious anonymous admirer will steal me away from you ." I shrugged, taking a drag.

His mouth dropped open and gave me a gentle shove.

"You're such a bitch! I was seriously worried about what you were going to say!" He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, connecting our lips slowly.

"You have to admit though, it was fucking impressive, right? I bet all the teachers and students are jealous now. I could have anyone I wanted..." he frowned, pretending to think about who he would choose.

I laughed and shoved him.

"Oh, don't be an ass, rich. They're all obviously wanting me, not you" I smirked and winked.

We both laughed, starting off down the street. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him stealing glances at me. I slid my fingers through his and swung our entwined hands between us.

As we walked, Richie told me in great detail of how he managed to pull his master plan off.

I giggled as he gestured wildly with one hand and cockily told me the extreme lengths he went to, to pull off his "prank of the century", as he called it.

We reached my house in what seemed like no time at all. Being with Richie did that; made time go faster. He seemed to soak up all of my time and attention whenever I was with him, and I would never even realise until later on. Not that I was mad when I did realise, how could I be when it was Richie? That jackass always did something or other that should piss me off but instead just makes me grin and shake my head.

We stopped at my front door and turned to each other. He grabbed both of my hands and smiled.

"I really do love you, Y/N/N." He grins and winks before continuing, "and I mean that fucking body, hot damn!" He wolf whistles and smirks, kissing my cheek.

I pull away, teasingly as I laugh at him.

"And here I was thinking we were having a moment... Maybe we could have another.." I whispered, leaning in so our lips were mere millimeters away from each other, before turning my head to whisper in his ear, "but I don't think you deserve one" I pulled back, a smirk on my face as I opened the door and stepped inside.

I slowly turned back, almost as if he was an afterthought.

"Oh, and Richie? Karma's a bitch, and she's on her way... But I may get to you before she does, so watch your back, Tozier." I smiled sweetly, and closed the door on Richie's gobsmacked face, with admiration in his eyes.

That night, all through cooking and eating dinner, my mind was swamped with ideas on how to get my revenge. As I helped my dad do the cleaning up, a plan formulated in my mind and I was gonna have fun with it.

I turned in for an 'early night', much to my parents delight and snuck out my bedroom window with my pocket money in the deep pockets of my warmest jacket.

I speed walked to the corner store close to our family home, wanting to get started.

The bell trilled and I sighed, glad to be in the warmth. I grabbed a basket and searched the isles for my weapons.

I guess I looked a tad weird going up to the counter with over 100 golf balls, over 200 plastic cups, and about 50 bottles of dish soap. And of course a can of spray paint.

Mr. Davidson looked at me with raised eyebrows. He knew the family, and my notorious pranking history, so as he rung everything up, I smiled sweetly.

"So, Mr. Davidson, how's the family? Good? Now, listen, I need you to do me a huge favour. It's easy though. All you need to do is to not say anything about seeing me tonight or that I brought any of this stuff? Okay? Think you can do that for me?" I grinned, trying to look convincing.

He looked apprehensive about it, so I slid him an extra $5 that I had been saving for an emergency. He simply nodded and told me my large total.

I grumbled but dug out the cash and passed it to him in coins.

I picked up my bags awkwardly and nodded goodbye to him.

"See ya later Mr. Davidson!" I called behind me.

"It was nice not seeing you, Miss Y/L/N" he called out, a smile clear in his voice.

I grinned and waved behind me, the bell once again ringing as I left.

I reached the school what seemed like hours later. I grinned and used the key I had 'borrowed' from good ole' Jimmy to get in through a side door. He had passed a comment to me about losing it, but I knew that he knew I had it. I think the old fellow has a soft spot for me and my pranks.

Once inside I tied my hair up and got to work. I started by filling plastic cups with dish soup and put them in awkward places; on top of lockers, on tops of doors, random places on the floor that were destined to be stepped on and spilt. I struggled to carefully pick my way through the full cups without tipping them when it was just me. Imagine what the hundreds of people during the day would do.

Next, I dipped the golf balls in the soap and spread them out. Some in lockers I knew the codes for, some in random plastic cups, some just on the floor.

Soon, the somewhat narrow main hall of the school was a mine field, ready for someone to detonate my strategically placed bombs and slip over.

To top it off, I started to pour the remainder dish-washing soap over the clear ground before abruptly stopping.

"Crap." I whispered, despite no one else being around.

I dropped the bottle I was holding and picked up my red spray paint can, shaking it.

“Definitely should've done this first." I scolded myself.

Carefully and painfully slowly, I made my way through the minefield of my own creation, trying to not trigger any bombs too early.

Miraculously, I managed to get to the lockers that faced the main entrance at the T-intersection at the end of the hall without spilling any slippery soap.

I shook the can once more, before painting the lockers in big, bold, easy-to-read words.

I stepped back slightly, narrowly missing a golf ball and looked over my artwork. I frowned in thought, then crouched down to add a few extra words. I stood up and smiled.

Happy with myself, I made my way back to my abandoned bottles. I finished off my job by spreading the last of the soap in the bottles all over the squeaky clean floor, so it was a slippery, sticky mess (much like the situations I frequently managed to get myself into).

I laughed evilly to myself, clapping my hands in achievement as I looked over my beautiful creation one more time, the red letters standing out to me.

Quickly, I picked up the waste products from my master plan and set off for home, not before locking up.

I yawned as I hauled myself silently through the window of my bedroom. I chucked the empty bottles and can into my wardrobe, wincing at the slight noise they made as they landed. I kicked off my boots and fell into bed, not bothering to get changed. I was so tired, I had barely glanced at the clock, that read 2:19am, before falling into a deep sleep.

That same clock woke me up with a drilling urgency at 7am. Groaning into the pillow, I reached blindly for the murderer of my sleep. As I pulled myself up into an upright position, I managed to stop the blaring. I grinned sleepily, remembering the night and my own brilliance. The smell of waffles wafted through to my room and in a rush I got ready for school and ate lightening fast before heading on my way.

I reached school, with a grin on my face. I pushed open the entrance doors to be greeted with beautiful, beautiful chaos. Perfect.

Everywhere, teachers and students alike were slipping, sliding, tripping and falling in the hallway of soap. It worked better than I ever could have imagined. I looked around, smirking at the detonating bombs causing people to fall with a comic-like 'splat!'. And those words on the lockers stood out more than ever, perfectly framed by people sliding to the floor in front of them.

"RICHIE TOZIER, I THINK IM SLIPPING AND FALLING FOR YOU." They read.

And in smaller writing beneath it was: "I THINK STAN URIS PUSHED ME THOUGH."

I moved out of the doorway and to the side so any newcomers could get the full experience. And as I reread the red words with a sense of proudness, the men of the hour walked through the doors.

Both Richie and Stan's mouths fell open - with sheer amazement, I'm assuming - and they looked from the chaos, to the words, to each other and back again. They burst into laughter, the type of laughter that makes you hold your stomach because it starts to hurt. Once they were able to bring down the cackling to small giggles, they wiped the tears from their eyes and scanned the squealing and squawking crowd of people for me, and just as they spotted me and started to walk over to me, Mrs. Douglas spotted them. Somehow, she got through the minefield, only skidding a few times, using students as support, and reached the two alarmed boys. From my position I couldn't hear what was being said but she seemed angry. I wonder why. And the boys looked sheepish, unable to get a word in edgewise to tell her it wasn't actually them. Hello? Karma? Is that you? Oh good! Perfect timing.

Mrs. Douglas dragged both Stan and Richie by their elbows towards the detention room. Except the minefield was between them and said room.

With Mrs. Douglas refusing to let go off the boys, they managed to all fall victim to my slip 'n' slide a grand total of 12 times. That's gotta be a record for the short distance they had to go.

Just before they disappeared into the room, Richie turned back and locked eyes with me. We grinned at each other, across the war torn zone of the hallway, staring at the other as if we were right in front of each other.

"Well played." He mouthed at me from across the hall.

I blew him a kiss and winked as he gave me the middle finger and got pulled into the room.

Stan and Richie were sentenced to writing a minimum three page essay on what had happened, why they were in trouble, and any other information they could give on the prank in total silence. At least that's what they told me afterwards when they emerged from their prison to where I waited for them with a cigarette. What I didn't know was the specifics of what happened during detention.

So, I didn't know that ten minutes in; Stan had one sentence and Richie had a blank piece of paper.

I didn't know that Richie had turned to Stan, fiddling with his pencil, deep in thought.

I didn't know that when Richie turned to Stan, he said, "i'm gonna marry her one day."

I didn't know that he meant it wholeheartedly.

I didn't know that Mrs. Douglas had immediately shushed him.

And I didn't know that Stan had simply smirked and replied, "I know, Richie."

A/N: I'm really sorry about this lol it's super bad. Please let me know ways to improve! I'm super sorry there's not many cute fluffy couple moments. I tried something different and I'm not sure if I like it or not! Let me know if you do or don't and why!

829 notes · View notes

argentarium · 7 years ago

Text

kara sevda (4) ↠ stilinski

author ; fessa

rating ; 18+ nsfw

pairing ; fuckboy!stiles X oc!reader

word count ; 1987

warnings ; angst?? , i cant even tell you this time idk how i feel about this part, i feel like this is trash except the dream scene but oh well

a/n ; wait… did you guys really think i wasn’t going to post another part? well you were wrong.. don’t ever judge a book by it’s cover

i. ii. iii. -

*not my gif*

kara sevda

/noun/

1. blinding love;

literally translates as “black love”

The blaring noise of his alarm clock caused the spastic boy to jerk awake from his recurring dream. As he sat up, he clutched his head in his hand, wiping up the cold sweat, thinking of the details and trying to remember if anything changed.

Your voice echoed through his ears as a light giggle caused him to sit up in his bed. His room was no longer the same; everything was pure white: the walls, his blankets, his pillows, and even his clothes. Stiles was naturally inquisitive and, as curious as his white-washed bedroom was, he could not help but follow the sweet, soft and inviting sound of your laughter.

Slowly, the familiar giggle began to die down, but he could not let go of your voice. He felt compelled to pursue it, not wanting the precious noise that was your laughter to leave his ears. Stiles rushed to his door and swung it open, revealing not his hallway but a golden light, shimmering in his eyes. He held up his hand, blocking out some of the rays, but his eyes still squinted as he began walking a few steps and found himself inside a grand meadow of beautiful, blooming, blue jasmine.

Your melodic laughter made contact with his ears again, and the instinct to find you overtook him again. He scanned the meadow until he laid his eyes upon you. You were across the field, decorating a young lamb with flowers, nurturing the small creature with your gentle touch. Stiles, however, was not just watching your actions, he was gazing at you with awe. He found himself entranced with the way your head fell back, laughing more when the lamb nibbled at you as your natural hair reflected the warm light. All the bright hues of azure contrasted with your long, ivory dress – which Stiles worried would get dirty from the grass – and he was truly able to see you happy.

You never looked like this before and never in his life had he seen you look so beautiful. Stiles had never seen your hair down before and he had never seen you calm either, it was always homework, quizzes, and tests which always had to not just be passed, but absolutely aced.

“Stiles!” He heard you call out, causing him to snap out of his trance. “Stiles! Come help me add more flowers!” He saw you flashing a kind and warm smile towards him. Stiles could not and would not say no for anything in the world. Nothing was going to stop him from being with you now that he finally saw you, for what you really were: radiating beauty, inside and out.

Once he finally reached you, he watched you stand up and brush off a bit of debris that had caught on your dress. You leaned back down and picked a flower out of the earth next to you. You held it out, delicately brushing the petals out before looking up at him. “I picked this one just for you. It’s the most beautiful one here, don’t you think?” You said softly, holding it out for him. “You deserve the best, Stiles. Here.” Stiles did not have to think twice about taking the flower.

As soon as he went to grasp the flower, however, something else happened. The flower disappeared and a wooden stake appeared to be tightly held in his hand, already have impaled your chest. Stiles’s eyes widened in disbelief, “No, no, Y/N, I swear I didn’t-”

“Why did you do this to me, Stiles?” You sobbed between coughing spurts of blood. “What have you done?” Stiles looked between you and the lamb, which was quickly dying too. The harmless creature looked as if it was stabbed along with you as it laid on its side with a large gash in its stomach. From the lamb’s stomach oozed something other than blood but some type of black substance. Stiles looked from the lamb back to you in shock and horror.

You were hunched over, tear stains all over your face, your throat burning from the coughing up of the metallic liquid on your tongue. Your pure white dress was no longer pure, nor was the beautiful field. It was now a dark, inhabitable area with bats flying around, bothering the corpse of the lamb. Stiles lurched forward suddenly, seeing as you were about to topple over. He caught you in his arms and held you, letting your head rest on his knees as he caressed your face. “No, no, no, stay with me Min, stay with me..” Stiles began to cry. Your breaths became weaker, and more blood spurted out of your mouth involuntarily. “No! Don’t do this Y/N, don’t-”

“Rise and shine, kid, it’s time to go to school.” Noah announced resting on the doorframe, knocking on the door, coffee in hand. “I’m heading down to the station, make sure to be on time for school.”

Lifting up his head, Stiles flashed a flat smile to his dad, waving the sheriff off. Stiles sighed, pushing himself off of his bed and picking up a few shirts lying around his room, sniffing them until he came across one which did not reek lacrosse as much as the others.

Stiles’s days were dark, ever since his mistake he had been spiraling. He promised himself he would not have sex with you because if he did, he would know that everything would be ruined. He reminded himself day by day to not even try anything on you since you were the only girl who was truly in his life considering that Lydia barely acknowledged him and Allison did not count.

It wasn’t like he was desperate but he knew he couldn’t get a girl to stay. It didn’t take him so long to make himself a sex legend in the school, but that was all he had because other than that he was just a nerdy kid, the bench warmer, and the slowest runner on the lacrosse team. He couldn’t impress any girl with his spastic, know-it-all personality enough to make them stay.

With this being said, if Stiles couldn’t just entice one of the many girls he has been with, how was he ever going to make you stay?

What seemed like a headstrong, cocky, egotistical high school fuckboy was all a lie but he was an insecure boy with attachment issues. Stiles believed one way or another, no matter what you did to even protest, you would leave him for what he did to you

He simply stopped the inevitable from happening by just ripping off the bandaid now. The pain lasts for a moment before you don’t even remember why it hurt.. but why was he still hurting?

Dwelling on the thought made him want to try to get you back. And Stiles wanted you to be his best friend but he broke a promise to himself, doing the unthinkable to you. You were a piece of artwork, only to gaze at, not to touch.

Stiles felt no different than anytime else. School hadn’t changed, coach hadn’t changed, and he simply was stuck in this stagnant point where he was so fixated on being indifferent.

Stiles was walking out of chemistry when he noticed something did not feel right. He noticed you were not in class like how he noticed every single time you were absent otherwise yet he still forced his toxic self to stay away from you. As he was treading along the hallways of Beacon Hills High School, he noticed the janitor rummaging through your locker.

Somehow, the mere act of invasion sparked something in the teenager which was not present in his system for weeks. A mild fury rushed over him as his facial features contorted to fit this slightest bit of emotion he finally revealed.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stiles jabbed at the worker. “You can’t just go through someone’s stuff, that’s invasion of privacy!”

The janitor sighed boredly, turning to the overzealous boy. “I’m just doing my job, kid.” He shrugged, pulling out pieces of papers and dropping them in the trashcan next to him.

“Well, she’s going to come back and see all her stuff has disappeared!” Stiles hissed, placing his hands on his hips as he waited for the janitor to stop his actions.

“How would she know if it disappeared if she does not go to this school anymore?” The janitor sassed at Stiles, rolling his eyes as he tugged a random picture off of locker door and let it fall in the trash.

Stiles’s eyes softened, his head slightly tilting, “What?” He whispered in a faint tone.

“Listen, kid,” The janitor began as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, showing off what looked like a list of chores, “Whoever this is left the school,” he pointed to the specific point on the list, “and this whole thing has everything I need to finish today so if you could just get to class, my life would be much easier.”

Stiles was in the midst of shock as he stared at the middle-aged man. He did not expect you to leave Beacon Hills, let alone not even mention it. Then again, Stiles remembered everything he said to you and instantly regretted it.

“Uh.. Why don’t you just do whatever’s next on your list, I can finish this for you.” Stiles offered, his eyes locking on the picture the janitor set in the trash bin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in-“

“Great! So by the time you’re back this will be all cleaned out!” Stiles faked his eagerness as he pushed in the way of the janitor and began to take out loads of papers, which created more of a mess.

The janitor put his hands up in surrender, “Alright, kid, have at it.” He sighed, walking away. “Weird…” he muttered under his breath and Stiles snapped his head towards him and glared at the back of the man’s head.

Stiles soon forgot about the janitor and reached in the trashcan, pulling out the photo strip from a photobooth you two created a memory at. Stiles reminisced on that day, he remembered going ice skating with Lydia, Allison, and Scott, having a blast spending time with his crush until Lydia had some sort of episode. He knew he had to take you with him one day and he did, and he admit to himself he had a much better time with you.

It was a continuous cycle, a picture or a pen, even a piece of paper with writing triggered a memory of when he was still your best friend. He stood there the whole class period, not caring if he skipped or what the consequences were. All the bottled up emotions were seeping through and he did not want to make it stop.

As soon as the bell rang, Scott came walking out of his class and walked down the halls to his next class. He wanted to see his best friend again, to see how he was doing or if he was any better today than the other days. As Scott was nearing his next class he saw Stiles against a vacant locker, staring at something in his hands.

Scott walked up to Stiles to see what he was up to. Once Scott got closer he was able to notice the glossiness in Stiles’s eyes and feel his sorrow while he took a look at the strip of pictures.

Scott was eventually going to tell Stiles about your leave but he was beat to it. He looked between the motionless Stiles and the picture before clearing his throat, “Hey.” He said simply, waiting for Stiles to yell at him for not saying anything to him.

Stiles quietly turned to Scott, his eyes teary, “I messed up.”

tags :) ; @squirels-angels-and-moose @were-cheetah-stiles @shameless-danni @danopeg @aestheticallytrashysunflower @lcnelykth @rememberstilinski @wydobrien @amethystmerm4id @charmedjeri @itskatiemahoney @leilaelizabth @pufflethehuff @parislight @unfoxs @infinitydunbar @ellie-bee242 @iknowisoundcrazy @mieczzyslaw @gluetwentyfourobrien @xqueenarianax @danielisnotonbranding @iknowisoundcrazy @surpeme-bean @maddie110201 @danny-the-coolest @stilinski-lover-24 @vogue-sweetie @stilinski-stydia-obrien @codysdimples @awkwarddly @xmadwonderland @oneshot-obsessed

and an amazing special thank you & dedication to cat ( @were-cheetah-stiles ) because without her, i wouldnt have made it through in terms of writing this part

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #kara sevda #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf images #Stiles #Stilinski

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