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ja3yun · 4 months ago

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On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day.

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist.

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win.

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either.

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick.

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward.

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop.

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again.

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.”

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him.

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air.

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space.

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept.

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking.

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around.

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown.

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.”

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday.

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger.

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy.

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him.

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?”

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom.

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?”

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice.

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock.

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through.

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family.

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders.

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard.

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this.

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago.

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.”

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers.

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some - that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier - you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA.

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment.

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably.

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right.

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine.

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it.

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?”

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues.

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought.

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose.

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more.

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts.

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most.

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep.

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow.

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it.

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities.

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…”

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen - and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning.

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate.

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway.

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it.

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite.

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another.

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white.

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance.

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy.

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock.

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace.

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you.

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible.

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes.

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige.

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull.

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn.

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity.

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes.

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #aj writes #jake x reader #jaeyun smut #jaeyun x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey

ty (ily)!! fem!reader

Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read.

“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together.

“I’m not.”

You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs.

“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you.

“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.”

“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.

“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.”

“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.

“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable.

“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks.

“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.”

“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.”

“What? Why would you pay for it?”

“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?”

Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.”

You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.”

He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.”

“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.”

His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability.

“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft.

Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat.

“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?”

Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.”

“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?”

He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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mossangelll · 4 months ago

Text

what arcane characters would be like at christmas!

inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3

i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Jinx:

jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?

aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)

all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath

she wants to show you how much she cares!

jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies

jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!

she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?

she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe

makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week

there’s just plain string all over the place 😭

obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti

instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top

she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental

gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way

jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously

jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday

Vi:

vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best

you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match

irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket

spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you

i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another

best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other

she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!

vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!

she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger

it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon

better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭

she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear

when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐

big mistake but how can you say no to her???

you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair

she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe

vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside

Ekko:

ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!

he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy

how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror

you can tell how much love and thought he put into it

he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!

ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!

snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!

this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights

honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭

but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end

accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops

he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt

that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles

he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house

yeah, you both get ill after that 😭

ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town

Jayce:

jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3

i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)

if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you

when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face

who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️

he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!

jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!

mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)

you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other

he licks the icing off your cheek

you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics

after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house

doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house

it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done

he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house

he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you

jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you

Viktor:

viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!

he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up

spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products

“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away

“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”

says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭

you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about

you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while

he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!

viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!

loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose

the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^

makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them

goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time

likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find

viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland

Caitlyn:

cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel!

she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you

even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself

she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever

she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear

cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!

she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something

takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate

if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics

she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over

if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her

has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you!

wishes she could stay outside skating with you

cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree

Mel:

mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!

she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one

you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!

has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax

makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol

she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!

mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!

at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child

but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable

so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family

loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself

she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all

you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭

she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious

makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”

she’s such a cutie

mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby

Ambessa:

ambessa gifts you a spa day

honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift

a spa day is a spa day however

she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army

she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you

you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you

she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!

ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!

well, she’s not the one making them

she just watches you make them

but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them

she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby

you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭

she likes you, but not that much

ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)

Heimerdinger:

heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭

he spent precious time on that thing

doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas

everyone deserves a treat every now and then!

hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this

backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well

at least you liked the present

he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!

heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!

he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭

he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes

you know he has you by the end of the day lmao

he’s so cute you can’t even be mad

heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime

AU!Claggor:

claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants!

this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children

the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases

gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning)

he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it

it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!

he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie

claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking!

he has his own apron and everything

makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond

makes enough to give out to family and friends

he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside

claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas

AU!Mylo:

mylo gifts you wool gloves!

you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets

but he wants to hold your hand :(

so gloves it is!

two birds with one stone

he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!

mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!

he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭

like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this

he needs to calm down tbh

probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day

mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas

Silco:

silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne

he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve

he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas

as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed

when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath

way too many for one person

he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap

he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this

he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?

if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no

silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!

ok hear me out

one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year

and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭

keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed

his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious

he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume

so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes

it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost

doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that

silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol

Sevika:

sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle

she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade?

teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her

her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her

she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into

sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!

she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch

you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are

she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up

oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders

you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it

would die if anyone saw her like that though

makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa

she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells

sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas

Vander:

vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao

i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)

you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!

you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug!

you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask!

he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it

you both laugh at the christmas table over his present

he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care!

vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing

except drunk (it’s for charity!)

drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says

i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs

multiple people told them to shut up

they just sang louder

end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session

when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun

helping his people is his main priority

vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow

masterlist

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yawnderu · 2 years ago

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Innocence Loss - König x Reader

Delayed Kinktober Day 3: Virginity loss - König x Reader

CW: Virginity loss, jealous König, rough sex, pussy eating, creampie, breeding kink if you squint.

"So wet for me, spatzi." König muttered softly, shaky fingers teasing your wet slit up and down, gathering your juices before his hand went back to his cock, soft groans escaping his lips as he used your own wetness to lube himself up. His mouth latched up to your cunt again, your whiny moans being rewarding enough as he worked up and down his long, veiny shaft.

"König... need you." You managed to speak between soft gasps and moans, the sensation of his long, flat tongue licking you up and down for the past 10 minutes was starting to become too much— he already made you cum twice, using the excuse that he needed you all wet so you could handle his big cock, yet in reality, he simply liked your taste. Like a starved man, König latched onto your clit, rubbing his cock so hard he already felt on edge.

"Beg for me." He said softly, his cockiness in the battlefield rubbing off on his regular life, yet surprisingly, he wasn't embarrassed about it.

"Please— fuck, I need you inside me. Please, baby?" Your pathetic begging went to his head, yet the look in his eyes betrayed just how much this man adored you. Messy hair, lips parted as you waited for him, a thin layer of sweat covering the body he was so enamored with, and your legs open, revealing the sweet cunt he craved so bad it hurt.

"Pretty girl." He muttered softly, pure affection on his voice as he joined you in bed, opening your legs even more to give his behemoth body enough space. He lined himself up to your cunt, gently pulling his foreskin down to rub the tip of his stupidly big dick up and down your wet entrance, slowly going in until he's bottoming out.

"Scheiße—" He grunted softly, voice going deeper as he grimaced under the mask. König was used to using his own calloused hand to cum, doing it only because he was bored and horny, which he grew out of the more years he spent in the military, yet the feeling of your tight, warm walls swallowing him up hungrily hit him like a tidal wave. You felt too damn good, and he had to resist the urge to cum already, not wanting to embarass himself.

"Are you okay?" He asked you gently, his hand slowly running up and down the length of your hair worriedly when he noticed the slight grimace on your face. König knew he was big in every single way, and his cock was not the exception.

"I'm good, just— move, please." Feeling the stretch of his massive shaft was just as painful as you imagined, yet the pleasure that came from it couldn't be denied. He builds up a pace, slowly going more and more intense as his thrusts get rougher, deeper, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills his private quarters, and you're secretly glad he's a colonel, as it gives you both more privacy.

"You've been bad, haven't you? Desperate for my cock, letting others flirt with you..." He mutters out between clenched teeth, his thrusts only getting rougher as he recalls what happened earlier. You didn't have the heart to tell him a member of KorTac simply was asking you for advice, the feeling of his tip slamming against your cervix was way too good to ruin the moment. He can believe whatever his jealous and possessive mind told him, as long as he keeps on angrily fucking you.

"No one else gets to touch you like this." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.

König shows no mercy anymore, slamming his entire nine inches of meat into you with primal force. Despite the way he's being so rough, his light blue eyes are completely set into your face, looking for any signs of discomfort yet all he can see is pure bliss. His already big ego grows more and more as he hammers into you, all the pretty noises and faces you're making because of him, him and no one else, are getting to his head.

He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense in German. You can barely make out "Hure" between whatever he's whispering. His German sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.

With each powerful thrust, he claims you, marking you as his own. The pleasure builds, coiling around your naked, sweaty bodies until it's way too much to bear. And when you finally release, his arms wrap around you protectively, holding your tiny body close to his as your bodies explode in a shared release. His thick, white cum fills up your womb, painting your velvety walls with his fertile sperm.

#konig mw2 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #konig cod #konig x reader #konig #cod konig #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #konig call of duty #könig smut #konig smut #cod mw #kinktober

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jeongin-lvr · 4 months ago

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ׅ⠀⠀ ֺ⠀⠀ ࣭⠀⠀⠀⟡ sloppy, c. yeonjun

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍，𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝖻 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌！𝗃𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌，𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂－𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑，𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾！𝗃𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝗌𝗂𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄，𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒．UNEDITED.

[ 𝟣．𝟦𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ★ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ★ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

THE WAY YOUR BOSS treats you is so inappropriate. Your coworkers always tell you, anyway. But you don’t see the harm in what he does at all! Whenever he leaves lingering touches on your arm it’s innocent, and those stare-downs he throws your way are just that! There’s definitely not a hint of anything more behind those moments the both of you share. Mr. Choi is a very nice man who treats you very nicely, especially for a boss. Who are you to complain?

In hallways when you pass by each other he sends you warm smiles and maybe if he’s feeling extra kind, a wink. But when you’re called to his office to offer some help with paperwork or to have a quick chat, your coworkers start to think it’s not as simple as that. Especially after the umpteenth time today! It’s ridiculous at this point how many times you’d been phoned into his office, behind secluded walls, tinted glass door. Leaving everything to the imagination of your colleagues. Can you blame them for being curious? You didn’t care much for their speculations; that being said, you didn’t pay much attention to them anyway.

You didn’t intend on explaining yourself to them nor did you intend on telling them the truth behind those subtle glances and fleeting touches. In the public eye, it just seemed a bit weird, however, being closed doors it was soooo much more complex.

But… they are right about one thing! There’s definitely more to all of it. Getting called to the big, bad bosses office at random hours throughout the day, leaving work at the same time in the same damn car as Mr. Choi, the oddly close relationship. There really wasn’t much effort put into hiding it; stupidly, you denied all the very true rumors and speculation. What else were you to do?

They didn’t need to know any details of all the times you’d spent laid out on your filthy bosses desk, clad in nothing but your glasses and torn panties. Or those times you’d sit prettily under his desk on your calves, stuffing your mouth with his thick length, just trying to help him de stress because he’s such a good boss! He works to hard, you always tell him that. Mr. Choi is sweet with you too, calling you princess, darling, doll… all the sweet pet names under the sun because he can. He dotes on you, and treats you so well. That’s not to say he isn’t filthy with you when it comes to sex— he’ll take you like a drug; cussing and degrading you all while calling you the most beautiful woman in the same sentence. It’s a perfect balance of both, always making your toes curl. Whatever he says goes and your reward is all the benefits of being his star employee. Rides to and from work, extra pay, good dick— what’s not to love?

You’re not even sure how long this has been going on; who’s keeping track anymore? But you’d have to guess not too long after you landed the job… it happened a little too naturally.

One call into his office, a sly glance as he looked you over. Like he had been studying you. Slithering and curling over your body with a daunting gaze of power and intensity. It was hard not to buckle and fold. Mr. Choi just had this natural energy of dominance, so it’s no surprise the way he acts in bed (mostly on top of his work desk). He’s yucky in the best way.

“Sir, s—“ You’re cut off by a sudden thrust upward, your head jolting backward and hitting his firm shoulder with a soft thud. You moan, working yourself out of the fog that slowly diluted your mind.

Mr. Choi leaned back behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he let out a raspy chuckle, amused by the soft sounds of glee that fell past your lips. “What, doll?” His hands slipped up your waist, ignoring the stinging hand prints on your thighs and hips, groping your freed tits with his big, cold hands. The shocking steel of his rings hitting your perked nipples and forcing a gasp out of your throat. The cold jewelry felt stunning, momentarily leaving you frozen.

You recalled all of your coworkers asking you where you disappear to… all their quizzical stares and perplexed questions. You knew they knew. It bugged you that they knew. It didn’t before but for some reason their stares changed. More shameless with their knowledge. Like they were judging you for being so, well, obvious.

New red hickeys decorating your neck every time you left Mr. Choi’s office. Your excuses piled up like tickets. You’re sure there’s not a single excuse you haven’t used yet.

“Speak, darling, tell me what’s on your mind,” Mr, Choi grasped your tit hard, tugging at your nipple as he thrusted upward yet again, resulting in your entire body jolting in shock at the pleasure. Your glasses crooked and fogging now, your cliche red lipstick smeared and decorated over his lips and jaw. It was like a cliche porno. You could almost laugh if it weren’t for the thick inches filling and emptying you over and over. One of your bosses wandering hands slipped off of your tit and gripped your chin, squishing your lips into a stupid pout as he uncomfortably tilted your head backward, giving you a lovely glimpse at his sweaty, stoic face. His eyebrows scrunched and his full lips pulled into a parted O. He looked at you expectantly, still awaiting your response.

“Sir, m’ worried,” You paused, chasing your breath desperately, “S-someone will hear—“

He scoffed in your face, making you feel small and pathetic. Your eyes fluttering as he continued to pump himself up into you. The sounds of your leaky, full pussy sucking his deliciously thick dick was nasty and made your mind spin endlessly. Your eyes almost crossing as you fought for your consciousness.

“Who fuckin’ cares, doll?” Mr. Choi gripped your face harder, “Let them hear.”

“B-but—“

Your boss groaned, sloppily leaning in for your lips, kissing you as if he just wanted you to shut up (he did). You reciprocated instantly, melting into him in every single way. Your knees ached from how you sat propped over him, your eyes burned with a wave of intensely pleasured tears, every inch of your body was sore.

“M’ your boss, baby, you don’t gotta worry about nothing…” He spoke into your mouth, his movements jerky now, everything so sloppy and dirty. You felt arousal pool down your legs, probably staining his seat a deeper shade. The way he spoke was so reassuring, or maybe you’re just too fucked out to argue. Your body spoke for you, pussy clenching hard around him, moving back down on his pretty dick.

Mr. Choi chuckled as he pulled out of your kiss. Despite how messy the moment was, he somehow looked relatively put together in his neatly pressed suit, his somehow still sexy even though you’d run your fingers through the hair and ruined the product more times than you could count. Your eyes were unfocused but you could very clearly still make out the decoration of bright red lipstick all over your flushed skin. His white button down just a tad disheveled and his tie loosened.

You whisper now, “You’re the boss…”

“Yeah, and you’re m’ fucking you,” Yeonjun laughed almost in disbelief, “So that means you d-don’t have to worry your pretty lil head.”

You nodded dumbly, engulfed in the pleasure now, “Yes, sir.”

“Yeah, that’s right, beautiful,” He wrapped his hands around your waist, upping his pace while panting into your ear, “Let em all hear how good I fuck my pretty girl…” He growled now, his hands tight as he pulled you up and down his dick, ignoring your whimpers of how overstimulating it was. Mr. Choi watched your ass bounce on his thick length, the slight divot and arch in your back capturing his attention. You naked and laid out for him so nicely while he sat dressed apart from his cock had to be the best part. It was you at his mercy. Completely and totally for his pleasure.

Your moans became higher, quicker, deep from within your tummy as he filled you. You felt that hot and heavy ball of your orgasm fill your lower stomach, swelling and swelling as his leaky tip hit your g-spot over and over again. One hit after the other leaving your eyes fluttering as you allowed yourself to get overwhelmed. Your red hot nails digging into his wrist, panting his name and endless pleas.

“Yeah? Do I fuck ya real good, darling? Mm, tell me how good it feels. Be as loud as you want, ah, let everyone hear ya.”

Your bosses potty mouth only send vibrations to your core, every movement he made was overwhelming your senses in a way you couldn’t explain. You couldn’t even begin to speak without being interrupted by your own moans. Mr. Choi grabbed your waist, swiftly standing in one fluid, hurried motion. He quickly laid you backward onto his desk, not minding anything in the way, letting pens and paper fall to the floor in a mess.

The new angle was providing you with sensations you’d never felt before. Your eyes were crossing, vision blurry. His movements only increased, quicker, needier. Everything he gave you was perfection, hitting and grinding and rubbing against every part of you so nicely. You whisper his name, begging for something, anything. Silent ‘sirs’ falling past your lips, only making his lips curl.

“Yes, sir, fuck me s-so good!” Any thoughts you had about anyone hearing was forgotten now. Pleasure controlled you; mouth running in babbling moans as your nails began to dig into the fabric of his shirt.

Mr. Choi curled his fingers around your jaw, tilting your head upward to get access to your sensitive neck, covering your skin in spit and sloppy kisses.

Your glasses, foggy and lopsided, began to fall backward until they lay crooked on your forehead, only making your boss smile. He was amused by your disheveled state, clearly. Enraptured by how simple it was to get you off.

He kissed your neck, then your collarbone, anywhere your skin gave him access. He mumbled against your skin, “My pretty little slut, can’t get enough of th-this pussy… mm, so good to your boss.” He nibbled on the flesh of your breast, sucking a deep, dark circle into your skin just to listen to how you whimpered.

“S-sir, I’m g’na— fuck!” Your eyes rolled and your mouth widened before you could even manage to get the words out.

“Go ahead,” He coerced with a smirk, his full lips pressing into your skin as he thrusted into you deeper. He watched you unravel with hungry eyes, surely not ready to give up the sight of you falling apart. He didn’t even blink, his eyes burned, but he didn’t care. He needed to see you cum on his cock. He wanted it so badly. “Squeezing me so tight— fuck, baby, good girl…” He managed to rip himself away from your skin, grinning so widely as he peered down at where your bodies met. A gorgeous ring of white around his dick as he pumped into you, your back arching and face scrunched.

Your hand pressed into his chest, tugging at his tie desperately to try and get him to slow down. Only it seemed to do the opposite. He sped up his pace with a grin, maniacally thrusting into you.

“Oh, but m’ not done, sweetheart,” He gripped your wrist as you whined, “My turn now, okay? Let me handle it…”

#feat. yeonjun .ᐟ #txt smut #choi yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #tomorrow x together smut #txt imagine #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun fanfic

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silens-oro · 21 days ago

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You Know Where You Are: Part I

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Musician!Reader Angst/Established Relationship Part II | Part III

The Pitt Playlist located here The Pitt Masterlist

Synopsis: Dr. Robby's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day started before he even made it to PTMC. He was supposed to go to Pittfest to support his girlfriend's band with Jake, but decided to flake and give his ticket to Jake's girlfriend. You are less than thrilled with his lack of communication. Word Count: 965 Content Warning: Arguing; Reader is in her 30's A/N: This will be a three-parter.

“Why is an alarm going off?” You grumbled into Robby’s warm chest as the jingle from his phone repeated itself. Robby groaned as he reached over to the nightstand to turn it off. He was silent for a few beats, his other hand coming up to rub your back gently. “Mikey?”

“I’m goin’ in today.” He mumbled into the crown of your head.

“You’re what?” Sitting up in a hurry, you pushed yourself off him, but kept your eyes pinpointed on his. Michael was looking anywhere else in the room but at you. “No. No, Mike! You said you weren’t going to do this.”

“I know.” He responded gently, his eyes breaking from yours.

“You know.” Scoffing, you started to get off the bed, but was stopped by his hand gently grabbing your thigh, squeezing it in a way that told you he did not want this to get blown into an argument. Not today. “What about Jake? You can’t just ditch him.”

“Giving him my pass for his girlfriend. They’ll have a blast and apparently she’s a huge fan of you guys.” He tried to soften the blow. All it did was build the irritation that was growing inside of you.

“And me?” Your question hung in the air.

“I’m sorry.”

“Absolutely not.” Gently prying his hand off your leg, you stood and threw on some random clothes he had in the second drawer that housed various t-shirts, jeans and leggings that you’d left over time. “Genuinely don’t know what I was expecting.” You muttered under your breath as you pulled a t-shirt over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He had the nerve to sound indignant.

“It means that I am a very reasonable person who rolls with the punches when it comes to you, but god forbid something on my end -pre planned well in advance, mind you- is important to me and it gets thrown by the wayside.”

“Today is-” You held up your hand to stop him.

“-I know what today is.” Your voice took on a somber tone. “And I am so incredibly sorry that you have to carry this with you, Mike. I am. I love you and I support you wholeheartedly, but you obviously knew you were going to do this well before this morning and you chose not to tell me. A heads up is all that I’m asking for here.”

“Had I known missing this set was going to be a huge deal-”

“It’s not about the set!” Your voice rose. “I don’t care about the set, Mike! My life is set after set. I cared about spending time with you and Jake. The set is an hour out of my day. Both of us are stupidly busy people with demanding careers who don’t get to see a whole lot of each other outside of some quick takeout and going to bed -if we’re even in the same state!” It wasn’t meant to be a jab, but Robby felt it all the same.

“You’ve never had a problem with me having to cancel for work.” His voice was starting to get an irritated tone to it, one that you knew he knew he was wrong, but was doubling down.

“That’s not what this is!” You snapped, “I’m not mad because you get called in to work, Mike! You did this on purpose. They didn’t call you in, you are choosing to go in on a day that you already arranged to have off for no other reason than you won’t communicate!” He winced -you don’t communicate was repeated like a broken record through just about every failed relationship he had. “I don’t understand how you don’t see why I’m frustrated with this and, quite frankly, it’s pissing me off even more than I was to begin with because I can’t tell if you know what you’re doing or if this is just a defensive reflex!”

Grabbing your phone off the nightstand on your side, you sighed when you saw how early it actually was. Deciding that removing yourself from Mike’s townhouse was the best option so you could cool off without figuratively ripping his head from his body, you grabbed your purse off his dresser.

“Where are you going?” Mike stood from the bed, pajama pants hanging low in his hips. There was clear panic in his eyes, but he couldn’t navigate himself out of the hole he had dug himself.

“Back to my place.” You didn’t bother to untie your sneakers as you shoved your feet into them, pulling roughly until they popped on.

“Come on,” He said your name softly, “-please just get back into bed-”

“Why?” You snapped, “You’re getting ready for work and I don’t have a reason to be here right now.” Mike winced, then inhaled deeply before nodding -not to agree with you, but to process the words that you just said to him.

“You don’t need a reason to be here.” He was nearly begging. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from going off the deep end.

“Fine, I don’t want to be here.” You ground out. And truthfully, you didn’t. Anger was a rarity coming from you -life happens- but this wasn’t “life happens”. This was “Robby happens” and when Robby happens...you shook your head.

“You coming back here tonight?” He knew it was a long shot, but he asked anyway.

“You know, Mike…” You shrugged, exasperated, arms swinging out from your sides, “-probably not.” Done with the conversation you left the bedroom, angry that this was how the day -a day that was supposed to be fun and a distraction from the shit Mike deals with- started in a fiery blaze.

“Don’t-” Not bothering to hear his response as you fled through the townhouse, you let the door slam closed behind you.

Part II

Please reblog, like and/or comment :)

#the pitt #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch #the pitt imagine #dr robby imagine #x reader

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virq-qgo · 9 months ago

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hii babe im just begging for a rough tag team with wolverine nd deadpool

I’m so sorry, I just saw this 😢 I’m a working woman, gotta make my money and spend it all at Adam and Eves. Anyways.. I hope this is good for you bookie, I put only my brain and boobs into it 😘

Request are still opened ❤️

Warnings: smut, my writing, obvi not proof read because I’m not all that.. female bodied.

If anyone had told you a few minutes ago that you would be on your back, getting absolutely cocked out by Logan. And having your mouth filled of it by wade. You would have laughed in their face. Because you are no man’s slut.

But here you are, laying on wades bed. Logan’s cock so full inside of you. His hips thrusting so hard against yours. Your poor pretty hips bruise.

It’s not like you can complain though, after all, wade is fucking your throat. But why would you complain? Getting absolutely dicked down by the two men you’ve had the hots for awhile is a dream come true, really it would be any girls dream.

Muffled moans attempted to escape your filled lips as your sore legs tighten around Logan’s waist. You were finally going to cum, after forever of torture. You finally get your reward.

Your eyes pooled with tears as you feel that little something snap in you, as you stupidly thought that this was your moment. That was until it was brutally ripped away from you.

Logan looks at you with a satisfied yet sadistic expression. “Aw, poor girl, finally thought she was about to come.” In a flash of the moment, you were flipped to your stomach. And Logan’s rough hands grab at your plush hips. Slamming himself back into you. “Too bad that bad girls don’t get to cum.”

A cry escape your lips as you feel Logan slam back into you. Your face is burrowed into the sheets of the bed as the pace Logan was brutally fucking you was putting holes in the walls from the bed.

You were too busy whining to notice that wade and Logan were bickering back and forth.

“My turn wolvie, I want to fuck my pretty slut next.” Wade pressed, his scared hands running down her body. “We’re switching places.”

Logan didn’t like this idea, knowing that wade would give in and let you cum. You were getting punished, you didn’t get to cum. “You’re not getting your dick wet, it’s my pussy that I’m fucking.”

Wade did not like this response, he pulled Logan away. Feeling so incredibly horny once he heard you whine at the feeling of being so empty. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be filling this pussy up so nice for you. The only thing you’ll be remembering is how good my cock is.”

Wade gave you no time to think as he thrusted into your abused hole. One hand on your hips, the other wrapped around your front, playing with your sensitive clit.

“You’ve been my good girl, must be because I’m better. But I want that pretty pussy to milk my dick.” He praises.

Wade teased, crescent marks are left in your hips from how hard Wade squeezed your hips. Moans fall from his lips as he felt your sweet hole squeeze his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back, Wade pressed your body down into the bed. Fucking you at an incredible pace, hitting all of your deep spots.

Logan watches the both of you, his cock so unbelievably hard, it hurt. His tip was aching and wet. He was turned on to the extreme, watching you moan like a damn porn star because of how good Wade is fucking you. It almost made him jealous.

He watches how Wade thrust faster than he has before, and watches how you try to claw at anything you can reach. Logan couldn’t help but find his cock with his hand. He wasn’t mad that you came around wades cock, or how the way your pussy clenched around nothing while his hot load was dripping out of you and down your thighs. Logan was so totally jealous, wanting it to be your pussy milking him instead of his own hand. Wanted it to be his load dripping out of you.

Finally, he had enough. Logan stood back up, pushing Wade to the side. “I hope you aren’t tired buba, because we only have just gotten started.”

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companioncute · 29 days ago

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Hold me, console me, and then I leave without a trace

Pairing: Mark Grayson (Invincible (2021)) x f!reader

Summary: You feel hard to love, you’re avoidant and ghost anyone interested in you, and you don’t want to put effort into a relationship. Mark, however, is determined to love you regardless.

Notes: No use of Y/N, reader wears makeup and consumes alcohol, I haven’t posted fics since I was 14 so bear with me

Tw: Very brief mention of mental health and disordered eating

Come on, don’t leave me, it can’t be that easy, babe

Mark doesn’t get it. He truly, genuinely, from the bottom of his heart doesn’t understand how he could’ve misread you. You’d been all over him last Friday—three days ago. All pathetic, too (your words, not his), when you’d drunkenly sobbed into his neck about the gaunt and hollow feeling in your heart and everything in the whole wide world that had led to it. He’d made you laugh. A quiet, weak laugh, maybe, but you’d smiled crookedly up at him with furrowed brows and smudged eye makeup. He told you how beautiful you were (not how beautiful you looked, because no ‘look’ of yours changed the fact that you were, in your natural state of being, beautiful to him. Always), and you laughed a little louder and smiled a little brighter. Then you had excused yourself, kissed his cheek and left a shimmery smudge on his warm skin, but he’d grabbed your hand before you could leave to press a soft, almost chaste, kiss to your lips on your way out the door. You had grinned simply, squeezing his hand before stumbling out into the car of whoever was picking you up from the frat party William and Rick had invited you both to.

He had sent you a goodnight text with a red heart emoji (which, in turn, earned him a smack to the back of the head from William because he was apparently ‘coming on too strongly’ and ‘should’ve at least just asked if you made it home safely’), but you’d responded quickly and added a heart emoji of your own (such a stupid thing to have an increased heart rate over).

Following William’s advice, he had waited. He hadn’t texted you immediately when he was up to begin training again Saturday morning, but by the time afternoon rolled around, he hadn’t been able to help himself.

His thumb had hovered above the ‘send’ button for two long minutes after he’d rewritten a stupidly simple message 7 times. He had wanted to text you something disgustingly sweet and pathetically down bad, but had forced himself to keep the light and humorous tone that had kept your friendship afloat for the past few years.

Still alive? Haha

Send.

Fuck. No. Delete? Who says ‘haha’? That was stupid. He should’ve just asked if you were okay or if you needed anything or—

Fuck it, no. You knew him, you knew how to read his tone. He’d just to wait for a reply.

Which had never come.

This then brings him to Monday night where he’s staring emptily down at his phone. Are you embarrassed? Do you never want to see him again? Mark likes you, he’s decided. Long ago, actually. Really likes you. You’re silly and unserious and lighthearted in a way his everyday life can’t be. He’s not good at romance, he knows that. He always messes everything up because ‘work-life balance’ isn’t afforded to superheroes. But you get it. You’ve never berated him for being forced to choose the greater good over your planned Mario Kart game night or another one of your movie nights (you’d then console him with the knowledge that while Doug Jones is wonderful in everything he acts in, The Bye Bye Man actually wasn’t worth his time).

He loves you, yeah. He just doesn’t know what he’s done wrong.

It takes William texting you to get your shit together before Mark hears from you.

I’m sorry.

Mark can’t remember the last time his heart beat this fast.

You freaked me out. What if something had happened?

He watches the three little dots dance for a few moments before he gets a new reply from you.

I’m really sorry. I know that sucked. I panicked.

He furrows his brows.

Why? You can talk to me. I’m sorry if the kiss was too much.

Your reply comes instantly.

It wasn’t!

It’s me

God that’s so cringe, I’m sorry

I don’t know how to do these things

I always tuck tail and run lol

A shaky breath leaves his lips.

I know. I used to laugh at the poor guys trying to hit you up. Didn’t think it’d ever happen to me though.

Listen, can we talk? At least just to clear the air.

No pressure though.

A single beat passes before your text bubble reappears.

Sure.

* * *

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling crookedly, and Mark knows he’s fucked because all he can think about is how beautiful you are.

“Hey,” he responds, sitting down on your bed like he’s done a million times before. “You okay?”

Your hands find their way across your scalp, then settle interlocked behind your neck as you exhale and deflate.

“Yeah… I think. I feel horrible.”

Mark smiles reassuringly.

“No hard feelings. Just don’t ever ghost me again, please.”

You laugh softly, nodding.

“Deal,” you say with a smile. “I really am sorry, Mark. You didn’t— it’s not that you did anything wrong, I just… I don’t really do the whole… ‘follow up’ on drunken mistakes—“

“So it was a mistake,” Mark interrupts with a pointed look.

You whine, burying your face in your hands.

“No! Yes? I don’t know.”

He laughs softly, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Relax. Take your time.”

You sigh, slumping against his chest.

“It was… nice. Really nice.”

“That’s good,” he says, pulling back slightly and pressing his warm, rough palm against your cheek. “I’m serious, you know. No pressure, but… I— I care about you. Deeply. And— and I think if it’s something you’re also interested in, um, I’d like to explore something more than friendship with you.”

“I’m not exactly… girlfriend material,” you mumble, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’m— I’m quiet—or really loud—and weird, and I get into weird moods, and I keep secrets and draw away from you, and I have a horrible relationship with food, and my mental health is like a fucking pendulum, and—“

“—and I think you’re lovely,” Mark finishes softly. “C’mon. I’ve known you for years. I know how you get. I’ve dealt with it. And, for the record, I’m prepared to deal with it. Because you’re worth it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling a newfound warmth in your cheeks.

“Yeah. Oh,” he repeats, smiling warmly. “Again… No pressure.”

A shaky breath leaves you and you nod.

“You’re too good for me.”

“Entirely untrue,” Mark snorts. He gives you a look when you open your mouth to argue. “I mean it, you know. You’re incredibly sweet and funny, you’re so kind, not to mention the coolest person I know.”

A sheepish smile makes its way onto your face.

“And I think I’ve already made a fool of myself telling you how beautiful you are.”

You grin softly.

“Maybe a little bit,” you whisper. “But… I liked it.”

“Yeah? You did?” He murmurs, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Only— only a teeny, tiny bit,” you murmur back, pinching your thumb and index finger together for emphasis.

Mark laughs, nodding.

“Copy. Only a little bit.”

While your face still feels hot, your heartbeat slows to a more comfortable pace.

“So?” He prompts you softly.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Okay. I can’t promise that you won’t be disappointed, but… we can give it a shot.”

“You don’t need to promise me anything,” he says, taking your face in both his hands. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t thank me,” you whisper, the smile disappearing as you look up at him with tired eyes. “I’ll bring you nothing but heartache. But if that’s what you want… your call, I guess.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I believe in you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, tears stinging your eyes.

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely.

“You shouldn’t thank me,” he mimics you with a playful smile, though his eyes remain soft. The pad of his thumb catches a stray tear by the corner of your eye.

“Oh, fuck you,” you laugh breathlessly, dropping your head against his shoulder.

“Love you, too,” he chuckles, because he knows what you mean. He gets it.

And you think you love him for it, too.

#invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x fem!reader #invincible x reader #invincible x fem!reader #invincible x you

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 10 months ago

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"in the eye of the beholder" - spencer reid x gn!reader

you explain to spencer why you find him annoying (affectionately)

wc: 846

cw: a wee blurb! pre-established relationship, 2 doofuses in love, toothachingly sweet fluff

“You’re so pretty,” you sigh, walking through the park near your apartment building with Spencer. He’s holding your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm.

“Why do you sound annoyed when you say that?” Spencer asks with a confused chuckle lining his voice.

“Because, it’s annoying,” your tone conveys pure seriousness, as if you were speaking about a pet peeve - bad drivers, people who chew with their mouth open, when someone leaves one second left on the microwave timer.

Spencer stops in the middle of the walking path. The trail serpentines through the middle of the park. It’s early spring in D.C, which means all the beautiful flowered trees are in bloom. Lovely pinks and greens adorn the backdrop for Spencer’s irritatingly perfect Adonis face. “You’re actually serious?” he asks.

You drop his hand, taking a step back so he can look at you properly. “You tell me, Mr. FBI Profiler,” you counter, shifting your weight to one hip and crossing your arms over your chest.

Spencer laughs, which causes your façade to crack, and the slightest, uncontrollable uptick of your mouth gives you away.

“I’m gonna go with sixty percent serious, forty percent joking,” Spencer estimates, his stupidly beautiful brown eyes narrowing at you studiously.

“It’s more like seventy-thirty,” you deadpan with your lips pursed. Spencer grabs your forearms and unlocks them from your chest, his gigantic hands sliding down to tug you by the wrists. You’re pouting as he tugs you just off the walking trail, so you’re not in anyone’s way, and then his hands find your waist.

“Is pretty such a bad thing?” Spencer asks, his lips pursing pensively in the corner of his mouth.

“It was definitely a compliment,” you assure him, noticing the insecurity wash over his face. You see it in the way his nose twitches ever so slightly, the faint furrowing of his brow, how he breaks one hand from you to touch his hair. “You’re pretty like a sunrise, like first editions and hot coffee and Victorian wallpaper.”

Spencer’s blushing.

“But,” you cup his diamond-sharp jaw with your hands, fingers tracing the angles delicately. “You carry yourself with the confidence of a much uglier man.”

Spencer laughs again, as apparently this whole business is very amusing to him, but you’re definitely being serious. “That’s a little superficial, isn’t it?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe,” you admit. “I guess I just mean that I wish you were more confident in yourself.”

“Have you looked in the mirror of your own psyche, lately?” Spencer asks with his know-it-all smirk. You pinch his cheeks and he squeals, then tickles your hips.

You’re wriggling away from him, and laughing, no doubt earning attention from other park goers. He grabs at your stomach and your waist evilly and you are hopping out of the way like a cartoon leapfrog. Your laugh harmonizes with his until you’re both out of breath, calling a silent truce.

Spencer scoops your hand into his and soon you’re both back on the walking path. “We weren’t talking about me,” you deflect, looking up at him in a sideways glance. “You’re always saying how lucky you are to have me, how someone like you doesn’t deserve happiness. But, Spence, you’re so pretty it’s not even funny, and you’re so wickedly brilliant, and I just want you to see yourself how I see you,” you ramble and gush a little bit, but your boyfriend is only grinning in response.

His warm, milk-chocolate eyes are soft and boyish and you want to kiss every single one of his eyelashes. “I guess it’s something I could work on,” he admits maybe a little stubbornly. You shake your head and lift your joined hands, kissing the back of his palm. “You know the proverb that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’?” He asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, and Spencer unclasps his hand from yours, only to wrap that same arm around your shoulder and tug you into his chest. Your steps move in time with his despite the shift in position.

“Well, I wish I had your eyes,” Spencer concludes. Your visage softens at this, looking up at him with a pouty lip. He kisses your forehead. “You see so much beauty in everything, angel. I see so many gruesome things every week at my job, but then I spend five minutes with you, and I’m reminded how beautiful the world can actually be.”

Maybe you’re being too sensitive, but your eyes well up when he says this. “You’re getting all poignant just because I called you pretty?” You recap in the form of a question, and Spencer’s lips fall into that flat-line smile. You crane your neck up to kiss him, a chaste yet lingering peck.

“You didn’t just call me pretty,” Spencer reminds you.

“Yeah, I did, I just expanded on it a little more than the average person.”

“I wish I could see the world through your eyes,” he muses, his lips still right next to yours.

“You can borrow my eyes anytime, Spence.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

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winstonsns · 11 months ago

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the gang when they’re jealous (request)

authors note: i’m sorry i accidentally posted it a little bit ago! i wasn’t done but now i am :3 i couldn’t find the image of the request but yeah it was requested 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.1k

warnings: blood, cussing, fighting, jealousy, insecurity, harassment

PONYBOY CURTIS

the two of you were at school, dissecting a squid in your science class

you and ponyboy were partners, and knew exactly what to do with the squid, even without instructions

then one of your classmates came up to you, asking “hey, y/n right? you uh, seem pretty smart. you already took apart the squid without any instructions, huh?”

ponyboy looked towards him, already seeing your attention was on your classmate

“oh, uh, yeah! it was mostly ponyboy though, he’s really smart!” so you smiled at your boyfriend, and gave him a kiss on the cheek

but your classmate kept persisting and giving you compliments, even flirting with you at times

ponyboy finally sighed and suggested, “hey, how about you go back to your desk.. seems like your partner needs help.” looking around, the classmate saw all the others dissecting their squids, while his was still put together

normally, when he’s jealous, he’ll try to make a distraction so he can pull you away or get someone else to leave

when you’re talking to someone important, ponyboy will stay close but won’t barge into the conversation

JOHNNY CADE

once, the two of you were at the drive in, planning to watch a cute romantic movie together

a guy tried to flirt with you, telling you that you look beautiful and you’re outfit is tight and looks real nice on you

you thanked him but told him to stop, many times, even though johnny was on the other side of you

eventually, when the man wouldn’t stop harassing you, johnny told him “hey, why don’t you just stop talkin’ to her? she told you to go away, man..” and shook his head in disappointment

he didn’t like him talking to you, and hated him more when he knew you felt uncomfortable

the man asked him, “who the hell do you think you are, hood? no reason why she’d wanna date someone like you—“

before he could continue, johnny tapped you, motioning to get up

the two of you walked to the car, and you said “thanks, honey.. too bad we didn’t really get to enjoy the movie though..” and he suggested the two of you would stay but at a distance from the man

johnny stayed close to you in a protective way, always checking your surroundings to make sure you were safe

but when you talk to someone important, or you’re catching up on life, he won’t do anything

he loved you, and even if he was jealous, he had to respect what you wanted

so if you wanted to talk to someone, he’d let you talk to them, sometimes because he’d know you were looking forward to it

he just doesn’t want either of you to get hurt, so he’ll try to always be nice, even when confronting someone

SODAPOP CURTIS

you were on your break at work, at a restaurant

your boyfriend, soda, came to visit you so the two of you sat down at a booth and ate a meal for free

then a guy stupidly came up to you and asked you for your number, saying you were very attractive

you looked at him, confused, side eyeing soda in a ‘who does this guy think he is’ way

you said, “um, no.. sorry. i have a boyfriend, if you couldn’t tell.” but the man wouldn’t stop talking to you

he sat down next to you, starting to eat some of your fries, making you lose your appetite

you kept moving away, and he put his arm around your shoulder, eyeing you up and down

it got to soda, he didn’t like how he was talking to you, “okay, we’re done here.” and he looked at your boyfriend

“leave.” he said, and the guy didn’t listen

“you better fucking leave.” deepening his voice and glaring at the man, putting a sense of fear into him, and even into you

he put his arm back to his side and got up from the booth, eyeing both you and soda, not saying a word but walking away

“you okay, baby?” he asked, and you sweetly answered with a “yes, thank you soda.. i love you.”

he said “i love you too.” and flashed you a genuine, beautiful and handsome smile

he was glad the man listened to him, because if he didn’t, he would’ve beaten the man up, but didn’t want a lecture from his older brother darry

your boyfriend really didn’t want to worry about you, but he couldn’t help it

he loved you too much to not worry, and he knew you understood all his feelings, not a lot of people did

he appreciated that about you, and ever since you understood, he never wanted to lose you

you were the only person he felt like he really loved

DARRY CURTIS

the two of you were at a restaurant, on a date when the waiter tried to hit on you

darry isn’t uncomfortable with telling you or someone else when he doesn’t like what someone’s doing, so he tells you and the man that he wants him to stop

so he tells the waiter, “hey uh, this is my girlfriend and i’d appreciate it if you’d stop… flirting with her.”

he listens since darry has big ass muscles, and he doesn’t want to get beat up

normally, he’ll politely ask the person who’s flirting with you if they could stop

if you’re talking with someone, simply catching up or talking about something important then he’ll leave you alone

he knows you can get frustrated if you can’t finish a conversation that’s important, so he lets you do your thing

unless you want him to help you get out of the conversation

he doesn’t want you to get emotionally hurt or feel bad if you’re talking to someone, so he always tries to talk to others politely, no matter if they’re being rude or not

if a guy is harassing you though, he would first tell the man to stop, if he doesn’t then he might get into a fight with him

just enough to get him to stop being creepy with you, but not enough to get him into legal trouble

DALLAS WINSTON

he’s normally not comfortable showing pda but will make an exception if some guy is flirting with you

but the two of you were in a bar and a random guy came up to you and was making suggestive gestures to you

he kept flirting with you and trying to get close to you, but you kept moving away

you were clearly uncomfortable with the way he was acting, but didn’t know what to do, you were afraid he’d hurt you if you rejected his advances

dally glanced over to you and saw the creepy guy was talking to you, and how you were uncomfortable and kept looking at his direction

he was jealous another man was talking to you, but was worried about if you’d be safe or not

so he walked over to you, already glaring at the man who was harassing you

he wrapped his arms around your waist and started slowly kissing your neck, mumbling “hey doll, who’s this..?” and looked at you in a loving manner

dally then looked at the man, and glared hard at him

the man saw the shine in dallys pocket, knowing it was a switchblade

but he could care less, and kept flirting with you

dally lost it when the man said “how about we go to my apartment baby, bet you’d like it if i-“

your boyfriend let go of you and grabbed his hair, bashing his head into the counter, breaking his nose in the process, punching him repeatedly, blood dripping down his face

“you ever talk to my fucking girl again and i’ll break both your fucking arms too.” he whispered into his ear

he then threw the man to the side, onto the ground and wrapped his arm around your shoulders

“thanks dal,” you mumbled “that was a lot though… i think you broke his nose..” you looked back and people were staring at you two

he knew he wouldn’t get in trouble, and led you upstairs to his room, wanting you two to go to sleep

if dally is jealous but the person he’s jealous of isn’t harassing you, just talking, then he’ll most likely walk up to you and the person you’re talking to, then will stand behind you protectively and say to you “hey sweetheart, uh, i need to talk to you for a second.”

so he’ll pull you away from the person and the two of you will talk about something random, because he didn’t need you to talk to you, he just wanted you away from the other person

however, if it seems like you’re talking about something very important or a close friend you haven’t talked to in a while, he won’t bother you

he really tries not to show the fact that he’s jealous but it’s really obvious

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

the two of you were at the drive in, going together to watch a new movie

you liked horror movies, meanwhile two-bit liked comedy movies, and was obviously into comedy himself

after the two of you sat down, a man came up to you and started talking to you

you didn’t say much since you were trying to watch the movie, but he wouldn’t stop talking and your boyfriend started to get a little jealous

eventually, two-bit talked to the guy and said, “hey, man i think my girl wants to watch the movie. you can maybe talk after but please… just some quietness ‘til after the movies done?”

the man stared at your boyfriend for a bit, gave a quiet “okay” and nodded, walking away from the two of you

“thanks, keith” you mumbled, and he nodded, putting the popcorn in between your laps

both of you continued paying attention to the movie, and your boyfriend forgot about the whole encounter with the man

but if he sees you laughing because of another guy, he’ll probably get more jealous than how he would if a man was just naturally talking with you

like, he loves to make you laugh and gets a little sad when another guy makes you laugh, especially if you laugh harder than when you do with him

he’ll try to outdo the guy by telling you jokes too

STEVE RANDLE

the two of you were at the store, planning to buy groceries

then you ran into a friend from middle school, who just so happened to have a crush on you all those years ago

“y/n, gosh is that you?” the man said, and you replied with, “oh, sorry… i don’t remember you, remind me who you are?”

he responded with his name and you remembered him, how the two of you got along and were friends up until he started treating you like crap, all because of the fact he liked you

you told steve you had to talk to an old friend, so you gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked towards your old friend

the two of you just wanted to talk, and he didn’t like you anymore, so you wanted to catch up with him

the way he kept laughing at your jokes made steve a tad bit jealous, but he knew he had to trust you

but he couldn’t help but get warm, not in the good way, in a jealous way

so he walked over to you and said, “who you talkin’ to?” and you looked at him and responded with, “oh, this is my friend from middle school! we went to different high schools, so we lost contact.”

your old friend smiled at him and introduced himself and said, “oh, cool. is this your boyfriend?” and steve replied with “yeah, been together for nearly a year.”

so when you and your boyfriend left the store, the two of you got into your car and drove to steve’s house to drop off the groceries

he would get insecure at times, thinking you’d leave him when you found someone better

he’d disguise it as jealousy, but wouldn’t confront you about talking to other people if he was jealous

the most he’d do is talk to soda about it, but he wouldn’t burst out at you or get mad at you for talking to other people

authors note: sorry for taking a while! i have 4 other requests in my inbox so im working on those too. sorry for making you wait!

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grapejuicestyless · 7 months ago

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Moon Song

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: “The, “wanting-to-be-stepped-on” feeling. Wanting someone to treat you so badly, because at least they’ll treat you at all.”

“You couldn’t have.”

She sobbed quietly, her hands holding nothing more than the threads of his shirt. In the end, it was all she had left. It was all she ever owned. Not his heart, or his peace of mind, but the shirts he ruined that she stayed up all night fixing. The stitching was brand new, it was all so well done. The work that only came from a woman who cared.

“You couldn’t have.”

She repeated, the thread tangling between her fingers. The moon casted over her features, her usually so soft, docile eyes shining with a different, dim despair that stunk of JJ’s name.

“Y/n.” He called out. She wasn’t moving, she was barely breathing right, and yet he was forced to sit and watch her go away through the glimpses of her bone crushing pain he had caused.

Because she couldn’t even look at him anymore. She didn’t see her sweet, attentive boyfriend she thought she had been adoring this whole time. No, she only saw the reflection of his best friend. The one person he swore on all of his stars that meant nothing to him.

And she had stupidly sat and listened to how he thought she was hot, another woman all while she laid in in his arms with a girlish glow, just happy to have been finally held by someone so closely.

“Does she love you?” Y/n asks stupidly, but she has every right to know. Because, unfortunately for the both of them, if she knew it was only a kiss, if it meant nothing, she wouldn’t be able to cut the tether that held them together. She would push down the sinking feeling until it crushed the earth beneath her and sucked it up and stayed because nobody had ever showed an interest in her the way JJ had.

Nobody had ever asked to walk her home because they wanted to see her for just a moment longer. Nobody had ever taken her to the secret hideouts on the island, and nobody had ever taught her how to kiss until JJ sat her down and showed her that it was possible. That it was real.

“I don’t know.” The answer hangs heavy.

Y/n takes a choked breath, her ears ringing.

“Do you love her?”

There’s a heavy silence, it doesn’t last long, but the fact that there had to even be a moment to consider something sends warning bells through her head.

“Shes my best friend.” JJ answers quickly, but it reveals everything.

“Oh god!”

She cries, and she physically crumples in her posture. Her feet scrape against the exposed roots in the dusty backyard that belongs to JJ’s best friend. Theres a grave carved into the trunk and for a moment, Y/n pictures her name stabbed beneath the others. Only, she’ll really be dead.

“But it’s different with you, baby! Believe me, I thought that I wanted her, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like it is with you!”

He swore, he prayed to her like it was the truth, but he was a bad liar, a man who adored to be loved but could not give it.

“You’re sick!” Y/n screamed at him, backing away like he was some poisonous alien, and maybe he was.

“Y/n.”

He pleads, and he follows, and he’s on her heals because they both know if he stays close enough, she’ll stay within his reach. She would wait until he wanted her again, like a dog with a bird at his door.

“You are sick! And you’re in love with Kiara!” She screamed, unaware of how the people who had once called Y/n their own watched pitifully from the back windows. Of how Kiara sat with a pained expression on her face, because she had seen Y/n as her sister.

“Y/n stop!”

JJ grabbed at Y/n’s shoulders, shaking her until she cried, a loud sob ringing through the air, painfully scraping through her chest and up her throat.

“How could you?” She begged to know, her eyes shut, her salty tears staining her once happy cheeks. “How could you?”

“I love you.” JJ tried to convince her, but even he seemed to grow tired of his lies.

“If I could give you the moon, I would have given you the moon.” She cried, her lungs deflating around the empty crevice in her chest that once held her heart.

Y/n craved that wanting-to-be-stepped-on feeling. She didn’t mind how sometimes JJ’s boots hurt her chest because even though he treated her horribly, he was treating her at all. But now, she stood in front of him with cracked ribs and an aching feeling where her heart once was, unable to bring him any more birds, unable to wait by the empty water bowl any longer.

She was starving, and so, so thirsty, and still, she waited patiently for him. He was a monster in every right, keeping her chained to an old post in the yard and watching her walk in circles. But even worse, he didn’t seem to really care.

“I had a life before you. I had a future! I was going to be something great!” She stressed, “and now I have nothing because I didn’t second guess you when you told me you loved me.”

JJ’s hands slipped from her body, and only then did he seem to realize that maybe this time his simple acknowledgment of her wouldn’t be enough anymore. Only then did he realize how he had taken for granted what he had, what he lost.

When she walked away from him that night, it seemed that the moon shined a little less brightly. It seemed that even though it was deemed impossible, somehow Y/n had a hold on the moon, that truly, she would have given him anything because to her, he was everything.

Now, JJ was stuck with the rips and loose threads on his tank tops, and all the dead little birds left at his feet, and JJ would never have the moon.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #jj maybank x routledge!reader

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strangerstilinski · 1 year ago

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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.

“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.

It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.

“You kissed me.”

The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”

“No, no, I- Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It's like there are hearts in his eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #*

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thelikesofus · 1 year ago

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Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend.

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There) by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again.

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family.

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious.

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD.

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC!

#buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fic rec list 5 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 #911 fic recs #meegs rec list

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thirtysomethingloser92 · 29 days ago

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Chapter 1: Obsession (I Love You)

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend wasn’t supposed to happen—but with Adrian Chase, it was inevitable. Maybe it started back in high school, when he smiled at you across the science lab. Or maybe it crept in later, during those long, adrenaline-soaked nights working (sort of, not really) for ARGUS, where the line between best friends and something more blurred every time he looked at you like you were the only steady thing in his world.

Loving him was easy. Living with the fact that he might never love you back? That was the hard part.

Because whether he couldn’t feel it—or just wouldn’t let himself—you were stuck in a limbo of almosts. Lingering touches, late-night confessions, unspoken things that hung heavy in the air.

And eventually, something was going to give. Warnings: Slow-Burn, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut. Masterlist

You couldn’t even fucking pinpoint the moment it happened. When you looked at your best friend and thought, Oh. Shit. I’m completely and infuriatingly in love with you in a way I’ve literally never felt before.

Because one minute, he was just Adrian Chase—your completely unhinged, sociopathic, vigilante, socially awkward murder twin. The guy who made terrible jokes at even worse times, who got way too excited about violence, who somehow managed to be both a human golden retriever and a terrifying murder machine. And the next?

The next, you noticed the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck when he forgot to gel it down, how the strands refused to be tamed no matter how much he tried. The way he smelled like a bizarre yet strangely comforting mix of gunpowder and vanilla, like danger wrapped in something sweet. The way his jawline was sharper than it had any right to be, like it was designed to be admired.

And then—because of course, it didn’t stop there—one minute, you were laughing with him about something completely ridiculous, something so Adrian that it barely made sense. And the next? The next, he reached over, all casual, and wiped a smear of blood off your cheek with his thumb.

Your heart skipped a fucking beat.

Skipped. A. Beat.

Like you were some kind of lovesick idiot in a shitty rom-com, not a person who had spent years being completely immune to Adrian’s absolute insanity. But now? Now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop feeling hyper-aware of everything—the way he walked beside you as you headed back to your apartment, the way his arm barely brushed against yours, the way you were suddenly paying attention to every single breath you took just to make sure you weren’t too obvious.

Because what the hell were you supposed to do with this? This weird, messy, inconvenient feeling that had crawled up from somewhere deep and made a home in your chest. You didn’t mean to fall in love with Adrian fucking Chase. That wasn’t in the plan. That wasn’t smart, or easy, or safe. He wasn’t the kind of guy people fell in love with and walked away from unscathed. He was all chaos and blood and weirdly earnest loyalty. A walking contradiction.

And yet—when he smiled at you like you were the only person who’d ever gotten his jokes, or when he leaned in too close with that stupid little head tilt and wide eyes like he genuinely needed your reaction to survive the moment—you felt it again. That traitorous flutter in your stomach. That stupid, inconvenient ache.

You tried to ignore it. You tried to remind yourself of all the reasons this was a bad idea. Like the fact that he’d once blown up a dude’s car because he parked too close to your door. Or that he’d stitched up your bullet wound while humming Careless Whisper off-key, shirtless, and narrating it like it was a cooking tutorial. Or that he genuinely didn’t understand sarcasm sometimes and had a list of people he wanted to kill purely because they made you cry once in high school.

But even with all of that—especially with all of that—you found yourself falling anyway. Falling stupidly, recklessly, hopelessly in love with him.

And he had no idea.

Adrian, bless his chaos-ridden heart, was oblivious. Completely, utterly, maddeningly clueless. He’d throw an arm around you and call you his “murder bestie” like that didn’t make your cheeks flush red. He’d casually offer to kill your ex like that was a totally normal Tuesday favor. He’d look at you like you were his whole goddamn world, and then immediately ask if you thought Batman ever got chafe in his suit.

It was like emotional whiplash. Constantly being tugged between I want to kiss you and what the fuck is wrong with you? And still, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because somehow, underneath the blood and bullets and unhinged declarations of loyalty, he made you feel safe. Seen. Like all the weird, broken parts of you weren’t something to hide but something to laugh about over post-mission pancakes.

And maybe—just maybe—if he ever looked at you the same way you looked at him, you’d tell him. You’d let it spill out, all messy and real, just like everything else between you two. But for now, you sat beside him on the couch, pretending your heart wasn’t trying to punch its way out of your chest, while he debated whether or not to buy matching tasers “for the aesthetic.”

You felt fucking ridiculous. Like you were living inside someone else’s skin—because this wasn’t you. You didn’t get crushes. You didn’t pine. But it was like some invisible switch had flipped in your brain. One second, everything was normal. The next? Adrian Chase was all you could think about.

And now that you’d noticed? You couldn’t un-notice it.

This wasn’t how this went. You were supposed to be immune to this kind of thing—especially when it came to Adrian. You knew him too well, too deeply. His quirks, his chaos, his everything. The idea of falling for him had always felt like... it would be too obvious. Too messy. Too inevitable. Which is exactly why you’d always told yourself it wasn’t going to happen.

But here you were.

And yeah, maybe you’d read enough romance novels to know the trope. Two best friends. Years of built-up camaraderie and inside jokes. Shared glances that linger too long. And then boom—the slow, agonizing realization that they were hopelessly, pathetically, dangerously in love with each other.

But, maybe not. Because this was Adrian.

And unless you were willing to strip naked and scream “I’m in love with you, you absolute idiot” right in front of him, Adrian Chase would never, in a million years, realize your feelings were anything more than what he already knew.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because you knew him. Knew him better than anyone else in the entire goddamn world.

You knew that in high school, the two of you were the weirdos—the ones who didn’t fit in anywhere except with each other. The freaks. The ones people whispered about behind their lockers and avoided at lunch. You’d found comfort in the shared madness of it all, in the way neither of you quite made sense to the rest of the world. When everyone else saw Adrian as the over-eager, try-hard kid with too many opinions and too little self-preservation, you saw something different. You saw him—someone who just wanted someone to stay.

You knew that when he was seventeen, he’d shown up on your doorstep with nothing but a half-zipped backpack and a fractured look in his eyes. “Mom kicked me out,” he’d said, flat and unbothered, like he hadn’t just had the floor yanked out from under him. Your mother didn’t even hesitate. She opened the door, saw the bruised knuckles and clenched jaw, and pulled him inside like he was already one of her own.

Later, as an adult, he told you the truth. That his dad hadn’t left his mom for another man, like Adrian had believed for years. No. He’d just left. No reason. No note. Just decided one day he didn’t want to be a dad anymore. And Adrian, in that moment, had laughed bitterly and said, “Honestly, that’s so on brand.”

You knew he used humor like a shield, wore it like armor that didn’t always fit quite right. That he didn’t have a filter—had never learned when to shut up—which had gotten you both into trouble more times than you could count. Like the time he told Mrs. Jessop, the cranky neighbor with the endlessly yapping dog, that he “hoped it got kidnapped one day.”

You’d had to dodge that woman’s death glare every day for a month.

You knew he was the only person in this whole fucked-up world you could trust to actually have your back. No questions, no hesitation. If you said “Let’s bury a body” at 3 AM, he’d already be in the car with two shovels in the boot before you had hung up.

You knew that he let you pick the music in his car—even when he complained about it. Always rolling his eyes, always saying something about how “this song makes me want to cry and not in a cool way,” but he never actually skipped a track.

You knew that when he crashed at your place and you ended up sharing your bed, he always stole the blankets and denied it with such conviction that it almost made you second guess your own memory. “No way, dude. You sleep like a rotisserie chicken. You’re the thief.”

You knew he snored. Quietly, but just enough to be annoying.

You knew he always leaned in too close when he was excited about something, like personal space was a concept that didn’t apply to you.

You knew him. Every version of him. The loud, the obnoxious, the oddly gentle. You knew how deeply he cared—even if he didn’t always know how to show it. You knew that his loyalty was a force of nature. That if someone hurt you, Adrian would burn down the whole world and then make you a grilled cheese sandwich while it all smoldered behind him.

You knew him, and that was what made this unbearable. Because knowing him meant knowing exactly how unlikely it was that he’d ever realize you felt this way. That he’d ever see you as anything more than his ride-or-die best friend with shared trauma and matching scars.

So you sat there, your arm brushing his as he laughed to himself—some weird, quiet giggle at a review on a stun gun that claimed it “made my husband forget why he was mad in the first place”—and you smiled, because what else could you do?

Fuck. You were so in love with him.

You knew he was a complete fucking idiot. But he was your idiot. And that was what made this so fucking hard.

Because to Adrian, you were nothing more than his best friend. His person. His partner in crime—sometimes literally. The one he called in the middle of the night because he found something “really cursed” on Craigslist, or because he needed help hiding a body (metaphorically… probably). You were the constant in his chaos.

But to you?

Adrian had suddenly, quietly, become your everything. And it was excruciating. Because now that you’d noticed—now that the realization had crept in like smoke under a locked door—you couldn’t un-notice it. You couldn’t pretend things were the same, even if he still looked at you like they were. Even if he still flopped dramatically across your couch, babbling about vigilante politics and asking if “you’d still love him if he had one arm and a mullet.”

Spoiler: yes. Of course you fucking would.

It was in the way he smiled at you—really smiled. Not the exaggerated, over-the-top grins he gave everyone else. Not the too-loud, too-much laughter that made people raise eyebrows and step back. No. It was the small ones. The quiet smiles. The ones he didn’t even seem to realize he was doing. The ones that made his eyes soften and crinkle at the corners like he wasn’t just happy—he was safe.

It was in the way he always walked just a little ahead of you, not because he wanted to lead, but because some part of him was always protecting you. Even when he didn’t say it. Especially when he didn’t say it. In the way he reached for your wrist instead of your hand when pulling you out of the way of danger, because hand-holding? That was for couples. And you weren’t a couple.

Just best friends.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was. Knew the slow, creeping burn of falling in love with someone you weren’t supposed to. Knew it like a bruise you kept poking, just to make sure it still hurt. It did. It always did.

Because Adrian Chase trusted you. And for a guy like him, that was rare. It meant something. He didn’t let many people in—didn’t have many people, period—but you? You were his inner circle. His forever plus-one to chaos. He let you see the parts he didn’t show the rest of the world—the cracks, the doubts, the moments when his smile faltered and he wasn’t sure who the hell he was anymore.

And you?

You could barely fucking breathe around him now. Because every casual touch, every offhand compliment, every stupid joke, every time he leaned into you with that ridiculous excitement lighting up his whole face—it all hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, your stomach flipped like you were thirteen and helpless, and he had no fucking idea.

You’d thought about telling him. God, had you thought about it.

Late at night, lying awake, playing out conversations in your head. Maybe you’d blurt it out after a mission gone sideways, when the adrenaline was still buzzing and your hands were shaking and you just needed him. Maybe you’d say it quietly, like it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t threatening to rip you open. Or maybe—just once—you’d shut him up mid-ramble by grabbing him and kissing him like your life depended on it.

But then you’d think about what came next.

Adrian wasn’t stupid. Oblivious? Absolutely. Emotionally constipated? Without question. But not stupid. He knew what love looked like. And more importantly, he knew what it felt like to lose it. People didn’t stay. Not in his life. They left. Or they died. Or they decided he was too much, too weird, too broken.

So if you told him, if you laid yourself bare and said, I love you, you fucking dumbass, he’d panic. He’d shut down. Maybe laugh it off. Maybe pretend he didn’t hear you. Maybe vanish for a few days and come back like nothing ever happened. Because that was easier. That was safer. Because loving you? That would mean risking everything.

And you couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t be the reason he looked at you differently. You couldn’t handle the shift—the silence, the awkwardness, the feeling of having crossed some invisible line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

So instead, you swallowed it. Shoved it deep down, buried it beneath years of shared memories and bloodstained jokes and the comfort of knowing he always had your back. You pretended it didn’t kill you to hear him talk about other people like he wasn’t already everything you ever wanted. You smiled when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and said dumb things like “Name a more iconic duo—I’ll wait.”

Because as much as it hurt, as much as it slowly carved you hollow, you’d rather have him like this than not at all. You’d rather stay in this strange, fragile balance where he looked at you like you were his world—but not in the way you wanted.

So you sat next to him on the couch. You laughed when he asked if matching tasers would make you “a power couple, in like, a non-romantic, but extremely deadly way.” You leaned into the warmth of his shoulder without leaning too far. You said “You’re an idiot,” like always.

And you smiled.

Because what else could you do? He didn’t catch how your laugh was a beat too late, too careful. He just kept scrolling on his phone, eyes lighting up every time he found a new, ridiculous piece of gear he absolutely thought you needed. “Okay, okay,” he said, turning the screen toward you, “hear me out—bulletproof friendship bracelets. Functional and fashionable.”

You snorted, because what the fuck else were you supposed to do? Cry?

“They don’t even match,” you said, voice somehow steady. “Also, that one literally has a mini knife inside of it.”

He beamed. “Exactly. Just think how cool it would be if someone messed with you and I was like, ‘She’s armed, bitch,’ and then—boom—stabby time.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t push his hand away when he shoved the phone closer so you could see the tiny hidden blade. His fingers brushed yours—warm, calloused, familiar—and your chest ached in that specific way it always did now. “Dude, if I wanted to stab someone, I wouldn’t need a friendship bracelet,” you muttered.

“Yeah, but this way it’s themed.” He grinned, big and stupid and bright. You wanted to kiss him so badly it made your vision blur. Instead, you leaned your head back against the couch and closed your eyes.

“Let me guess,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “You’re imagining how badass we’d look wearing these. Matching outfits. Coordinated moves. Maybe a theme song.”

“I’m imagining punching you,” you muttered. But you weren’t. You were imagining a world where you could reach out and cup the side of his face without it being weird. Where you could trace your thumb along his cheekbone, lean in slowly, and kiss him soft, without him pulling away or making a joke or asking if you were having a stroke. You were imagining falling asleep with his arm around you and waking up to the warmth of his breath on your neck.

You were imagining more.

And it was driving you insane.

He nudged you again, gentler this time. “Hey. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You forced your eyes open and looked at him. God, he was so close. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to say something real. His expression had shifted, subtle but genuine—concern threaded in the crease between his brows.

And you thought—say it.

Say something. Anything. But your mouth didn’t move. Your throat stayed locked up tight. Because if you said the words, you didn’t know what kind of silence would follow. And you weren’t sure you could survive that. “Nothing,” you said, offering him a half-smile. “Just tired.”

He looked at you a beat too long. Like he didn’t fully believe you. But then he grinned again—quick and sharp, the one that always felt like home. “Then I guess it’s good I ordered us energy drinks from that weird place down the street. You know, the one with the lady who always calls you ‘sunshine’ even when you look like you’re plotting someone’s murder.”

Your smile came easier this time. “She knows me well.”

“Damn right she does. We’re regulars. I bet we could commit a crime and she’d lie to the cops for us.”

You laughed. Really laughed. And for a second, you let yourself exist in this—this stupid, perfect, heartbreaking moment. Sitting too close on a couch that smelled like popcorn and blood and whatever weird cologne Adrian always wore that made your knees weak. Listening to him ramble, watching him light up over something dumb, feeling your chest swell with something too big to name. This was the part that made it unbearable. Because moments like this made it feel like something could happen. Like maybe, if you leaned in—just a little—he wouldn’t pull away. Maybe he’d meet you halfway.

Maybe he felt it too.

But then he clapped his hands and stood up, already on to the next thing.

“I’m gonna go grab the drinks,” he said, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt lifted just enough to reveal a hint of skin, and you hated how your eyes tracked it automatically. “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes, because that was easier than saying I always miss you, even when you’re sitting right next to me.

And then he was gone, bouncing down the hall, muttering something about checking if they still had the neon blue flavor that “tasted like radioactive regret.”

You were alone on the couch, staring at the spot where he’d just been, already feeling the echo of him like a ghost.

You let out a slow breath.

Fuck. You were so in love with him.

And the worst part?

You didn’t think he’d ever know.

#Adrian Chase x Reader #Adrian Chase #Peacemaker #Vigilante x Reader #Vigilante #Reader Insert #Wonderstruck Masterlist

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