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steddio · 2 years ago

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steddie vegas au part 4

part 1; part 2; part 3; ao3

(thank you all so much for your kind words! this part gets spicy 🔥 if you want to skip the smut, it starts with "Steve holds Eddie’s gaze as he slowly strips off his shirt." you can come back at "Steve jolts back into consciousness abruptly")

–

“I can’t wear this, Robs, I look ridiculous.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “You look hot, dingus, please don’t make me say it again.”

Steve stares at himself in the mirror. He has on his favorite pair of vintage stone-washed jeans, which not only make his ass look phenomenal but at least offer some comfort to contrast the outrageous shirt Robin has put him in. She’d taken her scissors and a perfectly good black t-shirt into her bedroom an hour ago and emerged with something that can hardly be called a shirt anymore with how many holes she’d created. Worse than the slash on his left pec that nearly shows his nipple is the fact that she’d cropped it so that there’s a solid two inches of skin between his waistband and the frayed bottom. His happy trail is on full display, and Steve wants to scream that he’s a father and he shouldn’t dress like this, except he’s going to see Eddie. Rockstar Eddie. Who literally oozes sex appeal. Maybe Robin is right and Steve needs to step up his game.

He adds one last touch of hairspray to his hair and then admires Robin, who has somehow doused her space buns in glitter and is wearing electric blue eyeshadow. She’d been so thrilled to be invited (“VIP tickets, Steven! V. I. P. That means Eddie thinks you’re very important.”) and her enthusiasm had washed away the nerves that had haunted him since yesterday. He’s still not sure he can do this. Let Eddie see him out of his professional comfort zone. But he’s determined to try. Something about Eddie keeps tugging at him, and he wants more. He wants in a way he hasn’t let himself want for a long time now.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by Robin grabbing his jaw in one hand and turning him toward her. “Finishing touch! Close your eyes.” He halfheartedly splutters in protest but lets her smudge eyeliner near his lashes. “There we go, all done.”

He looks at them both in the mirror, side by side. They look young again, and it’s ridiculous, but he feels young again. He wants to say something, to tell her how much it means to him that she’s coming with him, that she’s supported him for so many years and pushed him to do this, but he settles for a kiss to the top of her head. He knows she understands. She always does.

“Let’s go, I’m driving.”

Steve makes a point of not coming into Caesars when he’s not working. But this evening as he and Robin join the crowd flowing into the venue, he feels like one of a million other tourists and he’s caught up in the excitement of it all. Vegas at its core, all flashy showmanship and delight.

They make their way to the VIP section, at the front and slightly to the left of the stage. Robin disappears to grab drinks and Steve soaks everything in. He can feel eyes on him, dressed as he is and elevated above the crowd, and lets himself relish the attention. He wonders if this is how Eddie feels all the time and then banishes the thought before his head can get any bigger.

Robin comes back with a gin and tonic and a shot of tequila each, and he scolds her for mixing alcohols but takes the shot anyway, sips on his drink while the lights go down and the opener comes on.

The music is rougher than his taste, but he’s heard far worse. Robin is already dancing beside him, arms flailing, completely unembarrassed. He settles for just nodding his head to the beat, feeling the heavy drums flow through him. When the opener finishes, he heads to the bar to get their next round. By the time he finally gets back through the crowd, the lights are dimming and the audience is chanting “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

Robin turns to him, eyes huge with excitement. Steve hands her a tequila shot. “Bottom’s up,” he mouths and downs his own. As the lights start flashing and smoke billows off the stage, Steve feels like his heart is going to pound out of his chest. He grabs Robin’s hand to anchor himself, and when she looks at him, grinning, he can’t help but grin back.

Suddenly there’s an eruption of yelling and whistles and Steve looks up to see Eddie striding on to the stage. With how close their seats are, Eddie looks larger than life, his normally substantial presence magnified tenfold so that his energy fills not just the stage but the whole venue. He’s wearing tight black pants that flare over platform boots and a fringed leather vest that shows off his tattooed chest. His hair is wild and mussed, and Steve can’t help but imagine running his fingers through it, wondering if Eddie would like it if he pulled.

Steve isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or just Eddie, but he’s flying, blood buzzing in his veins. As Eddie strums the opening note on his guitar, Steve feels it in his bones, as if Eddie is stroking over his ribcage. When Eddie starts singing, Steve feels like Eddie is singing just to him.

His hypnosis doesn’t break until the end of the first song, when Eddie yells into the microphone, “Hello, Vegas!” Steve, Robin, and the whole crowd yell back in unison, “Hello, Eddie!” Eddie is all charm, graciously introducing his bandmates before beginning the opening notes of the next song. Right before he starts singing, Eddie’s eyes sweep to where Steve and Robin are standing. He meets Steve’s gaze and shoots him a wink. Steve must be having an out of body experience because he blows a kiss, which Eddie catches smoothly, miming putting it in his back pocket.

Steve belatedly realizes that Robin is staring at him like he grew a second head. He mock-glares at her and mouths “shut up.” She raises her hands in surrender but he still hears her say under her breath, “ok dingus, get in there.”

The rest of Corroded Coffin’s set passes in a blur. Steve finds himself dancing, letting himself match Robin’s wild movements. He’s sweaty, and smiling, and between each song he and Eddie exchange heated glances that are setting him on fire. By the time Eddie and the band are wrapping up their last encore, walking off stage to the echoes of “good night, Las Vegas!” Steve’s ears are ringing and he’s so dazed it takes Robin three tries to get his attention.

He turns to face her and sees his own wild energy reflected back at him. Grinning, she grabs his hand and pulls him toward the wings, brandishing her backstage pass at security like it’s a police badge.

They’re led into a small waiting room where a tiny red-haired woman is talking rapid-fire into a cell phone, staring down at a clipboard. She hangs up when she notices them, and stretches out her hand. “Hi, I’m Chrissy, Corroded Coffin’s manager. You must be Steve, and this is…?”

Steve nods and shakes her hand. He waits for Robin to introduce herself but she’s just standing there dumbfounded, like she’s been struck by lightning. Steve raises his eyebrows at her but she doesn’t even notice him, fixated on Chrissy. Steve suppresses a laugh and chimes in, “And this is my friend Robin.”

Chrissy doesn’t miss the emphasis on friend, and her neutral expression softens to warmth. “Robin, it’s a pleasure.” Chrissy touches Robin’s elbow gently and Steve swears he hears Robin squeak but his attention is interrupted as Eddie barrels into the room. He stops short, just inside the doorway and stares, open-mouthed at Steve. Steve stares back, all the buildup while Eddie was on stage making electricity arc between them.

Steve hesitantly takes a step forward, unconsciously reaching out, wanting to touch. Eddie comes to meet him and suddenly they’re face to face, so close Steve can see the sweat on Eddie’s brow and the stubble on his chin. He wants to lick both, and he’s not nearly clear headed enough to prevent himself from leaning in. Eddie stops him with a gentle hand to his jaw, tracing down his neck, shoulder, and arm, fingertips grazing lightly across Steve’s bare skin. Steve shivers under the scrutiny until Eddie takes his hand and pulls Steve down the hall and into his dressing room.

As soon as they’re inside, Eddie has Steve pushed against the closed door, one thigh pressed between Steve’s. Their chests are touching, breathing hard, and Steve relishes how Eddie inhales his exhales, taking a piece of Steve inside himself. Eddie leans in and traces his nose along Steve’s cheek and jaw. His hands rise to grip Steve’s waist, pulling him closer even as he uses his body to pin Steve firmly against the door.

“You came,” Eddie murmurs, lips against Steve’s ear. He bites Steve’s earlobe softly and Steve tries not to embarrass himself by whimpering.

“Yes, yes of course I came, I wouldn’t miss–” Steve cuts himself off with a breathless whine as Eddie’s mouth moves lower, to Steve’s neck and collarbones. His hands pet lightly over Steve’s exposed stomach.

“What are you wearing, sugar?” Eddie gives Steve no time to answer, instead moving his hands up Steve’s chest, gently touching where his skin peeks through each hole that Robin had cut into his shirt. Steve is burning, he can’t think, can’t do anything but feel, every place Eddie touches a live nerve. “Are you trying to kill me,” Eddie groans, bending to suck a hickey on Steve’s exposed chest.

Steve finally allows himself to touch, tracing the smooth plane of Eddie’s lower back and then the rough leather of his vest before finally burying his hands in Eddie’s mane of tangled hair. A sense of belonging settles deep in his belly, and he forces his frazzled mind to respond. “It’s you who’s killing me, baby.” Eddie’s breath hitches at the pet name. “You have no idea how hot you look on stage, had me hard in my jeans for hours.” He punctuates this with a slight roll of his hips so that Eddie can feel Steve against his thigh, can know what he’s doing to him. Eddie presses him even harder against the door, until Steve can feel an answering bulge.

Eddie pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eye. His lips are spit-slick and Steve needs to kiss him, to taste him. He crashes their mouths together and the kiss is inelegant but delicious with desperation. Steve takes the lead, licking deep into Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie lets him, pulls him even closer. Steve succumbs to his earlier fantasy and tugs slightly on Eddie’s hair, delighted when he moans in response. Steve is fully hard now, and as the kiss gets increasingly desperate he decides he’s not above begging.

He manages to extricate himself briefly to get out, “Eddie, please.” Eddie makes a low noise in the back of his throat and slides his hands down to grab at Steve’s ass. Steve is nearly riding Eddie’s thigh, the friction an exquisite torture. “Please, baby, Eddie, please,” he begs again. With one last squeeze to Steve’s ass, Eddie pulls back and licks a long stripe up Steve’s neck, tracing the tendon there.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you need, sweetheart, don’t worry,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. “But not here. I want you in my bed.” He leans in for one more kiss before pulling away, and Steve whines at the loss. “Come on, sugar, let’s get you somewhere comfortable. I want to take my time with you.” Steve nods, dumbly, unsure how Eddie is able to get full sentences out. After a few minutes of hopelessly trying to get themselves under control, Eddie gives up and pushes Steve out the door they came in.

They make their way back through the waiting area of the green room, where they almost fail to notice Chrissy and Robin curled up together on the couch, deep in conversation. Eddie, who somehow seems to have his wits about him, leans over to have a low conversation with Chrissy while Steve just stares wide-eyed at Robin. He’s immensely grateful in that moment that they’ve known each other so long as to be able to communicate without words, because his horned up brain manages to comprehend that Robin is fine, that she’s taking Chrissy back to her apartment, and that Steve should go have fun.

Eddie joins him again, and pulls Steve out of the green room and into the main area of the venue. “We have my suite all to ourselves tonight, Stevie.” Steve just presses himself closer to Eddie, loathe to leave any room between them.

“Steve, I…” Eddie trails off. “I’m sorry about this, but we have to be careful. Going through the lobby.” Steve tries to get his brain back online, to match the gravity of Eddie’s sudden tone change, but he’s fuzzy with anticipation and alcohol. Eddie tries again, “We have to separate for a bit, sugar. I’ll meet you by the elevators and then we’ll go up together. Do you understand me?” Steve tries to nod, to communicate that he’ll do anything Eddie says, but Eddie is insistent. “I need a verbal confirmation, okay?”

“Yes,” Steve manages to get out. “I’ll meet you by the elevators.”

Eddie kisses his forehead, and then lightly pushes him forward. “Go first, I’ll follow.”

Steve makes his way through the lobby, already missing Eddie’s presence. He feels floaty, giddy with excitement, his lust taking a backseat to the pure joy of getting to spend more time with Eddie, to the anticipation and delight of learning a new partner, of finding a rhythm. He presses the “up” button at the elevator bank and has to wait only a moment before Eddie is beside him again and they’re stepping into the elevator.

Eddie presses the button for 14, and the doors have barely closed before Steve is on him again, kissing him as if it had been five days and not five minutes. This time he has Eddie pressed against the wall, and he uses his leverage to grind unashamedly, reveling in the pleasurable ache and the way he can feel Eddie’s returning hardness. When the doors finally ding open, they’re both flushed and breathless.

Steve follows Eddie down the hall and into the suite where he stops short. “Holy shit, this is where you live?”

Eddie shrugs and makes a casual gesture as if to say, what? this? before he captures Steve’s lips in another searing kiss. They get lost in it for a long moment, tangled in each other, before Eddie pulls back to demand, “Bed. Now.” He manhandles Steve into one of the bedrooms, chasing him forward until the back of Steve’s knees hit the bed. Steve waits for Eddie to push him down, but Eddie steps back. Looks Steve up and down.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. “You’re gorgeous, sugar. Make me want to ruin you.”

Steve holds Eddie’s gaze as he slowly strips off his shirt. Traces one hand down his own stomach toward the fly of his jeans and watches as Eddie bites his lip. Undoes the button and pulls the zipper down. He starts to push his jeans down his hips when suddenly Eddie moves to kneel before him, covering Steve’s hands with his own. Eddie tugs off his jeans, and then mouths at Steve’s cloth-covered cock.

“Shit, baby,” Steve groans. He runs one hand over Eddie’s cheek as Eddie soaks his boxers in spit. He’s fully hard now and throbbing and if Eddie doesn’t do something he’s going to come in his underwear like a teenager. “Eddie, please,” he begs. Eddie takes pity on him and pulls Steve out of his boxers and licks him from root to tip.

“Big boy, indeed” he says with a wink, before taking Steve in his mouth. The pleasure is overwhelming, and Steve tries and fails to keep himself from fucking forward into that wet heat. Eddie’s grip tightens on his hips, holding him in place while he moves his mouth up and down, swirling his tongue, drawing moan after moan from deep in Steve’s chest.

Steve feels himself barreling toward the edge, and it’s far too soon, he wants more. “Close, Eds, I’m close,” he bites out, and tries to pull back. Eddie holds him firm, taking him down to the root one more time before letting go with a pop.

“Get on the bed,” he tells Steve, voice gravelly. Steve obeys, shimmying fully out of his boxers and jeans and all but throwing himself down on the duvet. Steve hears a drawer open and close and then Eddie is behind him, pulling Steve’s hips up and pushing his knees forward so that Steve is prone and exposed. He feels Eddie’s lubed fingers skim over his entrance before one gently pushes in. Eddie fingers him open carefully, smoothing one hand down Steve’s heaving ribs while adding a second and then a third finger.

“Eddie,” Steve can’t help but whine. “I’m ready, please, I’m ready.” Eddie pulls his fingers out and then takes a moment to roll a condom on and add more lube before positioning himself.

“Tell me how much you want this,” Eddie goads, rubbing the tip of his cock against Steve’s entrance.

“I want it so bad, Eddie,” Steve whines. “I want you, please, please fuck me.”

Steve hears Eddie groan “fuck” under his breath before he’s pushing in, and Steve is lost in the pleasure-pain of being stretched. Eddie bottoms out and then stays there, letting Steve adjust. As he starts to slowly pull out again, Steve lets out a low whine. Eddie moves faster and faster, punching obscene noises out of Steve with each thrust. Steve feels his pleasure build, and he’s helpless to stop it as Eddie drags his cock against Steve’s sweet spot over and over.

Steve belatedly realizes that Eddie is talking to him, murmuring filth under his breath. “You take me so well, Stevie, you feel so good. Yeah, baby, you like that cock in you, filling you up. You’re so good for me.” Steve just takes it, moaning in agreement. As he feels himself get closer and closer to the brink, Eddie suddenly pulls him up so that they’re both kneeling on the bed, Eddie’s chest pressed against Steve’s back. Steve leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. Eddie wraps one arm around Steve’s chest and the other around his cock as he leans forward to slot his mouth against Steve’s. They kiss sloppily, Eddie pounding into Steve, pushing him to fuck his fist.

Steve feels his orgasm approaching and manages to whisper, “Eddie, I’m going to come, please can I come.” He holds off only until he hears Eddie affirm, “come for me, sugar,” and then he whites out, overcome with pleasure.

When he comes to, he’s laying on his side, Eddie curled around him. He turns so they’re facing each other, and kisses Eddie on the nose. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and Steve briefly worries that he’d been too selfish. “Hi,” he murmurs. “Was that good? Did you come? ”

Eddie’s eyes open to meet Steve’s, and there’s so much warmth and joy in them that Steve is immediately put at ease. “Hi Stevie, welcome back” he says. “You were so good, love. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.” Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve sweetly, lazily, like they have all the time in the world. Steve falls asleep, safe and secure in Eddie’s arms, thinking that maybe they do.

—

Steve jolts back into consciousness abruptly, cringing as the morning light hits his eyes. For a brief moment he’s disoriented, confused as to where he is and why he’s sweltering hot, but he settles down as last night’s events come back. Eddie is a furnace behind him and Steve extricates himself from the tangle of limbs and sheets and goes to use the bathroom. On the way back, he grabs his phone, startled to see four missed calls and over a dozen text messages. Confused, Steve opens his message app to read a series of frantic texts from Robin.

Robin: Steve. Holy shit.

Robin: Steve, I need you to pick up the phone.

Robin: I’m sure you’re having the fuck of your life, dingus, but you really, really need to check your phone.

These are followed by a photograph of two men in an elevator. It’s backlit and somewhat blurry, but Eddie’s face is unmistakable, as is his look of naked want. With a jolt, Steve realizes that the other man in the photo is himself, from earlier that night. Robin had texted the photo with a link to a tabloid article titled, “MUNSON TAKES HOME MYSTERY MAN AFTER CONCERT.”

He quickly checks the rest of his messages, and realizes there are several from Nancy and, even worse, one from Max. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Unthinking, he grabs his clothes from the hotel room floor and bolts.

continue to part 5.

read on ao3.

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#steddie #stranger things #steddie vegas au #not me posting 2 days in a row oops! and this one's a long one #I hope you enjoy!!#I"m trying to get this finished before I go on vacation on tuesday #this starts to get a bit angsty but there WILL be a happy ending #probably 2 more parts #also i'm so so sorry if tumblr eats ur tag #A writes

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posh--bee · 4 months ago

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hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Follow You Anywhere 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad. You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…”

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?”

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'.

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

#dark!captain syverson #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #follow you anywhere #sandcastle #captain syverson #dark captain syverson #captain syverson x reader

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wagconts · 4 months ago

Text

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 :: Where you are going to watch a Barcelona game.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 :: no warnings.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 :: 0.799 k

𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 :: This piece was written in the first person (from your perspective), and I don't see this kind of writing very often around here. I hope it doesn't cause any issues. Enjoy your reading!

Today was an important day for me. I came with my dad to watch a game of my favorite team, Barcelona. My dad is none other than Neymar Junior, and he was definitely more excited than I was.

We arrived a bit earlier than the other fans because my dad wanted to show me everything about Barcelona: its history, trophies, and other things.

Back when my dad played for the club, I was always at Camp Nou, watching his games and goals. The best part was seeing pictures of me, around eight or nine years old, wearing Barcelona jerseys with my dad by my side.

─ During the game, I want to hear you shouting 'Visca Barça' all the time, okay? - my dad said.

─ Okay, sure. - I replied, and he laughed.

─ I'd take you to the locker rooms, but the players are probably all there, so it's better not.

─ Why? - I asked.

─ Come on, (your name), this team is full of young guys just out of their teens. They see a pretty young girl and they'll go crazy. - he said, and I laughed.

─ What? -he asked.

─ No need to be jealous of your daughter! - I teased, seeing his serious expression.

─ Jealous? Yeah, right. ─ he denied, and I kept laughing.

After some more rounds and many stories from my dad about his time playing here, I told him to wait a bit as I needed to go to the bathroom. He agreed, and I ran to the women's restroom.

When I came out and walked a bit, I saw the beautiful view of the field with a ray of sunlight shining down. I took out my phone and opened the camera to take a picture. Without a doubt, I was going to post it on my story to keep my profile aesthetic.

I pointed my phone camera at the horizon, but someone accidentally walked in front of the shot. I lowered my phone, a bit annoyed by the interruption, I must admit.

But then I found myself face to face with none other than Lamine Yamal.

─ Oops, sorry for ruining your photo. I didn't mean to,. - he said.

─ Don't worry, I already took a few before, - I replied, and he smiled friendly.

─ Indeed, the view from here is beautiful. - he said, and I agreed. ─ Are you part of the organized supporters?"

─ What? -I asked, confused.

─ It's just that the game isn't for another two hours, so I found it strange that fans are already inside. - he explained.

─ Oh, no!" I said. - I came with my dad a few hours earlier to see everything.

─ I see! - he confirmed, smiling. ─ Sorry for the question, your dad?

─ Yes, Neymar! He decided to visit his old club today. - I said nonchalantly because, to me, it was no big deal.

─ What? Neymar? Neymar Junior? - he looked at me, unbelieving.

─ Yes, Neymar Junior.

─ You're kidding, right? - he still couldn't believe it.

─ No! If you want, I can take you to see him now.

─ I'd love to, but I have to get back to the locker room. - he said, looking at me. ─ I can't believe I'm talking to Neymar's daughter.

─ No problem, you can see him after the game. By the way, he really appreciates your admiration. - I said.

─ Wow, I'd love that.

─ So, it's a deal, Yamal?

─ Deal! - he smiled. ─ By the way, how rude of me, what's your name?

─ I'm (your name).

─ A beautiful name, just like you. - he said, making me blush.

I thanked him for his compliment and we said goodbye. I went back to where my dad was waiting for me. He looked a bit stressed, but I understood him.

─ What were you doing? That took forever.

─ Sorry, I ran into a player and we started talking and... - he cut me off before I could finish.

─ You ran into who?

─ A player... - he looked at me in disbelief.

─ What do you mean, a player, (your name)?

Now, it was going to be a long story to explain it all to him.

#football fanfic #football imagine #lamine yamal x reader #fc barcelona #soccer #Spotify #lamine yamal #yamal #football icons

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chvnnie · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please write about dilf seungmin? I just can’t sleep without it.

it’s been a while since i posted — so why not start with my literally brand?

…I also made it spicy. Oops.

Seungmin looks good in a suit.

This isn’t like, brand new information. Simply a statement; he looks good in a suit.

Your husband looks good in a suit.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

What makes him look even better, in your opinion, is the way he puts the baby carrier on. Fingers flexing, veins popping in his hands as he adjusts the straps. Fixes the buckles. Make sure everything is secure before he puts your son in there. There’s just something about the way his fingers glide down the strap, pulling it tightly—

“You’re staring.” He interrupts your thoughts, not even looking up from what he’s doing. It slipped your mind that he’s standing in front of the mirror, and you’re right in his line of sight.

You clear your throat, distracting yourself with the sleeve on your dress. “Sorry.” You mumble.

“Hm.” Checking that everything is on him correctly, Seungmin turns around. “Are you?”

Why is he talking to you like this? Why is his voice so low? Was it a good idea to wear a long sleeved dress? Okay, it’s snowing outside, but the way your husband’s words are affecting make you feel like you’re on fire.

Red and pink-ish flames dance across your body, swirling like a tornado of fire. Engulfing you and forcing you to given into the sensation.

“Maybe.” The strand you were toying with becomes irrelevant, head tilting up to meet your husband’s gaze. He’s taken a few steps closer to you, eyes dark and turned downward. Another match strikes. “Would it be so wrong if I was?”

Tongue in cheek, he huffs a small laugh. Faster than lightening, a hand grips your chin. Tilting it up. Forcing your gaze to stay in place. “When you look at me like that,” his thumb slides up, finding the center of your bottom lip. Slowly, he begins to stroke it, smearing the red lipstick you just applied, “you know I can’t help myself.”

The birthday dinner is in less than an hour. If you don’t leave now, you run the risk of being late — but the baby is still asleep, snoring over the monitor in the next room over.

Sounds like a perfect excuse.

Your mouth forms around the digit, eyes locked with his as you slowly brush your thumbs across it. Not stopping until the mouth meets the knuckle, only to pull out just as slow.

“Don’t, then.”

Playing with fire is never wise. But sometimes, the burn is too delightful.

Seungmin’s other hand grips the nape of your neck, forcing you from your seat on the bed to your knees. They brush against his loafers, the only thing stopping your skin from bruising.

The thumb that was in your mouth moves across your cheek, painting your skin with the lipstick you so carefully applied. “All I’ve wanted was to make a mess of you tonight.” He says in a low whisper, slapping your cheek softly. Enough to make the blaze burn brighter. “You make losing myself too easy.”

His belt buckle jingles, blending with your gentle laugh as you smile up at him. Though he acts like he’s playing with you, in reality he’s given you exactly what you wanted. Feeding into your will without really even knowing.

Who knew all it took was a stare?

Seungmin pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock. It bounces out, hard and heavy like it was seconds from tearing a hole in his slacks. He grasps the base of it, slowly working his hand up and down. The thumb that is lipstick stained brushes over the tip. Making a mess of himself.

Your tongue rolls out, waiting for patiently for your husband to finish teasing you. To give you both what you know you can’t go another second without.

His smile is breathtaking. “Good girl.” He coos, finally sliding his cock in your mouth. The deeper it goes, the louder he groans. The fire moving to his body, and he’s in no rush to put it out.

Savoring the feeling of your throat, Seungmin is slow to pull out. Not wanting to even thrust — just to sit there, let his cock hit the back of your throat and listen to you choke on it. Everything about it is perfect. The warmth, the closeness.

You. Your watery, wide eyes. Face stained with lipstick, mascara close to follow.

“I love you.” He mumbles softly, the thrust starting slow and deep. He doesn’t go far before he diving back in, craving more and more. “I fucking love you.”

Bodies aflame, molding into one. There’s a tenderness that only Seungmin possesses, an ability to make even moments like this feel like heaven.

Your tongue swirls around the base of his cock. It twitches in your mouth, the feeling making his knees buckle. Fuck, everything about this is perfect. His fingers thread in your hair, holding your head still as he rocks his hips a lip faster. Rougher.

Spit starts to leak from your mouth. Down it rolls, clinging briefly to your chin before it drops onto the ground. His shoes. Your lap. Sloppy, messy.

Perfect.

“You take my cock so good.” He groans, head rolling back as he picks up the speed. Not one usually for words in the moment, you soak up the compliment. Bouncing a bit on your knees as you tighten your throat until he’s moaning your name. Spilling from his mouth like a prayer. “Fuck, that’s it. Fuck—“

He cums hard and fast. There isn’t even a second to warn you before it’s spilling in your mouth. Seungmin stares at you as he empties out, watching you swallow around his cock. You look so beautiful when you’re such a mess for him.

Carefully, he pulls himself out, stuffing the still hard member in his boxers. He falls to his knees in front of you, not even bothering to buckle his pants before he cups your face. Peppering it with kisses, whispering praise and thanks. Apologies for ruining your makeup—

Your hands wrap around his wrists, holding him close as you smile at him. “I love you, too.” You say softly, pressing your lips against his. “I—“

The monitor on the bedside table lights up, the sound of cries filling the room. You both huff a laugh, lost in each other’s gaze for just one more second. Just a little bit longer of just the two of you.

“I’ve got him.” You say, only to be held still by your husband.

“No, I’ll get him.” He brushes his lips against your cheeks once before he stands. “Go fix your makeup, unless you want to go to dinner like that.”

“I think it’s a look, no?” You tease, pulling yourself onto your feet.

“God, don’t start unless you want to be tied to the bed for the rest of the night.”

It’s not an empty threat. You desperately want to see it through. Smiling, you send him away, going into the en-suite to reapply to your lipstick. Clean the mess that Seungmin made.

Your husband looks good in a suit. It’s a fact. But when you walk out into the living room, getting the perfect view of him bouncing the baby against his chest. Singing and tickling the little boy’s feet until he’s a fit of giggles, you realize that as good as he looks in a suit — he looks better as a dad.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #chvnnie dad!skz #dad!skz #dad!seungmin

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lucvly · 11 months ago

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hii !! can u make a story of reader walking into matt’s room while he’s streaming n kisses him not knowing he’s streaming ? IDK IF YOU’VE ALR DONE SMTH LIKE THIS BUT

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS. ( matt sturniolo. )

warnings › fluff, gamer matt lmao, use of y/n, NOT PROOFREAD.

author’s note › I LOVE THIS REQ AW. also i’m still trying out formats for my posts so ignore if every single one looks different oops. lowkey also got a little carried away w this one Sorry...

› all that could be heard from matt’s headphones were the sounds that his game elicited, while also occasionally hearing some of the chat notifications that appeared on one of the screens of the setup.

his headphones were very soundproof, just to help him focus on his game a bit more. this was one of the rare occasions he decided to stream, just because he hadn’t in a while and because chris brought up the idea of revisiting the concept. he agreed, and it turned out to be an amazing idea– a lot of people, more than usual, were in the stream watching matt and chris play.

their cameras were on, the green light on matt’s pc indicating the live was ongoing and that his camera was on, showing a smiley yet concentrated matt who was biting down on his bottom lip unconsciously, raising his voice at chris for something fortnite related you couldn’t quite understand– all you heard was a loud noise coming from his room as you walked through the door.

you furrowed your brows, dropping your keys on the counter of the kitchen before also setting down your purse and making your way to the room matt was currently playing in. you were so occupied running errands for the day all you wanted to do was get home to your boyfriend and his embrace.

the thought of him holding you in his arms is what kept you entertained all day, up until this moment when you mindlessly knocked softly on the door despite it being the slightest bit open, only enough for some light to come through but not enough to see what was going on.

no answer.

you thought nothing of it, pushing the door open with a small, tired sigh as you kicked your shoes off, a gentle smile appearing on your face at the sight of your boyfriend sat up playing on his computer, which wasn’t unusual. you assumed his headphones were what deafened the knocks to him.

matt was still concentrated on the game, commenting something to chris about helping him about because he was getting attacked, the noise coming from the keyboard echoing throughout the entirety of the room.

being so wrapped up in the game with his brother, he hadn’t even noticed your presence in the room, even when your shoes made a fairly loud noise, and you throwing your jacket on the lounge chair as you entered could’ve also been a dead giveaway, though you thought nothing much of it– he was always playing with his brother, and you could very faintly hear chris’s voice echoing from his headphones.

you made your way over to him, whispering a soft “hi baby,” then pressing a kiss to his cheek, not really wanting to interrupt his game, your plans were to simply take a quick shower before he could even finish the game so you could lay down with him after the long day that you had to endure, but all that quickly got shut down as matt instantly looked up at you.

“hi, we’re–” he started to speak, unsure of what to do, already hearing the blast of messages that were being sent through the chat. he mentally face palmed for not telling you he was planning on streaming today– it had completely slipped his mind, and he was about to pay the price.

it wasn’t like he didn’t want you in his public life, he would love for that to happen. he wanted to show you off and tell everyone that he was in a happy relationship with the love of his life– and he had been for a while, and that they knew nothing of it.

though there was already an incredible amount of situationship allegations and speculation surrounding the two of you– nothing was ever confirmed or denied, so people were really unsure of what your status was. you were never really seen publicly with matt, both of you deciding that would be the smartest decision you could probably make for the sake of your relationship’s privacy. there were a few leaked photos of you hanging out together at influencer parties, but nothing that were to give out any hints regarding your relationship.

“hey chris.” you waved casually to the camera, seeing chris’s face onscreen. though he seemed, odd. a smirk was on his lips as he attempted to hold in a laugh while he shook his head slowly, showing disappointment towards matt.

matt cleared his throat, his gaze making its way back up at you. “we’re– uh, streaming.” he let out a small chuckle.

your heart dropped, your face immediately showing off your sense of panic as you stepped back from the frame, no longer being visible to the camera, your mouth opening as if you were to speak but no words were coming out, except a frantic, yet soft “oh.”

matt chuckled once again. this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted to do it, but oh well, the opportunity already presented itself, so why not take advantage of it?

he pulled you back into frame, guiding you to sit on his lap so you were both visible to the camera now. his hands were on your hips, though that wasn’t visible to the camera, it was more of an act of reassurance towards you, trying to give an unspoken hint that it was okay.

“well, this is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.” he spoke in a joyous tone, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he looked at you with a certain look that was everything the chat was talking about, getting bombarded with comments along the lines of “OH MY GOD??” “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER :((” “BRB SOBBING.”

“and you already know my boyfriend matt.” you let out the softest laugh. you were definitely nervous, but turning slightly and looking into matt’s eyes, you were sure you were going to be fine, that it was okay.

the chat confirmed your suspicions, surprisingly everyone was being incredibly normal, gushing over the two of you. there were people already asking for couples content, and some others just telling you they were jealous in the nicest way possible.

“i can’t believe nick missed this.” chris finally intervened with a loud laugh. “kid would’ve had a field day with this one.”

you immediately turned to look at your boyfriend who was already staring at you in slight disbelief at your calm reaction to all of this, while still processing the fact that you just hard launched your relationship on a fortnite stream with his brother.

“can you kick someone off a stream?” you joked, trying to hold back the laugh that was threatening to leave your lips.

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star--girls · 3 months ago

Text

| "Please be mine."

(part two)

PAIRING: BestFriend!BangChan x Afab!Reader

Genre: Fluff, crack, suggestive maybe

Warnings: Swearing, annnnnddd....idk. minors do not interact

a/n: sorry late post!

pt.1

pt.3

You call Chris again after taking a bath

"Heyy! Did i make you wait long? Sorry if i did! Hehe." You were sitting on your make-up table, wearing a towel to cover up your wet naked body. You take your blow dryer and plug it. You open it and start to blow dry your hair

"You blow drying?" Chris said while he tilts his head to the side with a smile "Miss the times i was the one blow drying your hair."

"Yeah, me too. I really do miss them."

Chris was just watching you blow dry your hair, loving that focused look on your face. He started to notice that your towel was slowly falling off.. "Fuck...Ahem– A-anyways, where are you going with your friends?" He says, trying his best to not look at your body in the screen.

You look at your phone and smile "We're going to that Thai Restaurant that i've been talking about, Mango Tree.

"Damn, isn't that place expensive as fuck?" He said, still trying his best to not look at your body, and just up at your face.

You notice your towel falling off, so you put it right back up before your chest gets exposed. "Yeah, yeah..I know. But Soyeon wanted to pay, so of course i'm going."

Chris sighs in relief as he watched you put the towel back up, not letting himself get distracted by your body. "Of course you'd go if someone else is paying." He chuckles

"Umm..Duhh?? Gosh, you know me too well." You finish drying your hair and take your skincare products.

"Yeah... I do know you well... very well." His eyes softened, proud of himself for knowing you well. "Well anyways, What are you going to wear to the fancy restaurant tonight?" He tilts his head to the side again

"That sundress you gave me before you left last month, i haven't worn it yet." You say while applying some cleanser in your face

"Oh, the one i gave you? Damn girl, you know how to make me feel special." He giggled, his cheeks slightly turning pink "I bet you're going to look gorgeous wearing it." He smiles warmly

"Of course, duh. I'm always beautiful." You raise your eyebrow at him and gave him a smug look, before chuckling

Chris laughed a bit too. "Fuck yeah? Of course you are. You're the most beautiful, pretty, cute, gorgeous, stunning, and beyond all of those!" He said with a smile, He was trying to see if he could make you blush.

You were just giggling, and giggling by yourself. But then you frown when you see him turn his camera off. "Open your cameraa!! I can't see your face,man!" You chuckle, tapping on your screen aggresively. "Come on...I miss your face..." You whisper to yourself

Chris laughed to himself as he looked at how you were tapping on the screen. "Calm down, baby. You might break your screen." He turned his camera back on and smirked at you "You miss my face that much huh..?"

Oops, you got caught. "Huh?!? I didn't say nothin'!" You try defend yourself by making up excuses. "I swear on my life!!"

Chris laughed at you, as you tried to defend yourself from him. "Oh yeah? Then why you tappin' the screen like you were dying without seeing my face. Hm?" He chuckled, obviously taking pleasure in teasing you.

"Ugh! Whatever, I'll go change clothes."

Chris just smiled at you, he really enjoyed and loved teasing you. But he wasn't ready to let you hang up yet. "Wait- Not yet, don't hang up!"

You giggle and look at him with a curious face "I won't? I'll just turn the camera awa–"

"No, I want to keep looking at you more." He cuts you off. He leaned back on the chair, his arms behind his head, so his chest muscles will look even more defined and toned.

"I....A-are you saying....you wanna see me change?-"

"Maybe i do." He said, looking a little devilish as he smirked. He's really enjoying teasing you right now

"E-excuse me, what?" You were speechless and shocked, your eyes and mouth were open wide.

Chris chuckled at your reaction. You were nervous so much that it was kind of cute to him. "Come ooooonn, baby. You don't want to give me a little tease, princess?"

"Shit...Um..." You were trying to think on what to decide. If you decline, he will be upset and disappointed, but if you agree... well.. "Ugh, fine..."

Chris smirked and chuckled. He was a bit shocked that you agreed so easily, but he was enjoying it. "Good..."

To be continued....

(part three soon!)

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daisies-daydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Thanks for doing my requests!! I really love reading your posts c:

Wanted to ask if you could write something with König x reader, where he tries to surprise us by taking off his mask for the first time but we walk past him not realizing it’s him at first glance

I wonder if he would be heartbroken or too shocked to react for a couple of minutes LOL

Header Credit: @ave661

Pairing: König x F!Reader Category: Fluff (with a teeny tiny bit of angst) Warnings: Mentions of body insecurities/scars Word Count: 600+

A/N: Hello again! Thank you so much for your request! I thought of a few scenarios in my head for this one, but I hope you enjoy the one I chose!

König cracked a wry grin as he strolled out of the locker rooms. It was typical for you to show up late for your daily workout routine with him…something he’d use to his advantage. Several people eyed him as he scanned the gym, only to find that you were still nowhere in sight. The Colonel smirked before making his way towards the weights.

He whistled to himself as he plucked two dumbbells from the rack. König glanced at his reflection in the mirror before quickly turning his head, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue at the large scar across his cheek. He shook his head before taking a deep breath. The giant man grunted as he flexed his arms, his muscles bulging as he looked around for you while he did his reps.

Still nothing.

König finished his routine and sighed before someone suddenly bumped into him.

“Oops! Sorry about that,” you said as you looked him dead in the eye. König’s mouth quickly became dry as you quickly turned your back to him and made your way towards the treadmills. The giant man blinked.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease him, so surely you must’ve recognized him by his build...or at least his eyes…right?

“…Sir? Sir, are you alright?” a stranger asked as they tapped his shoulder. König flinched and spun around, causing the stranger to gasp and back away. “S-Sorry, you were just standing here for a few minutes,” they gulped. König’s shoulders tightened as he flared his nostrils. Christ, a few minutes? He gave the person a quick nod before making his way towards you.

The Colonel puffed out his chest a little as he approached the treadmill you were jogging on. You glanced up from your phone, your brows knitting together as you plucked out your earbuds.

“Do you need something?” you asked with a puzzled look as you stopped the machine. König felt his chest tighten as you continued to stare at him. He frowned.

“Hase...don't you recognize your own Colonel?” he asked as he clenched his fists. He saw the gears turning in your head before your eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. The man watched you with his icy blue eyes as you suddenly put your phone down. His breath hitched when you cupped cup his scarred face in your warm hands. You tilted his head side to side, eyes lingering on his crooked nose. He sighed as you smoothed your thumb over his massive scar.

“König?” you murmured. The Austrian couldn't help but smile as he gave a short nod.

“Ja,” he replied. Your face softened as your hands slid back to your side.

“I was starting to wonder when I'd get to finally get to see you,” you beamed. He suddenly felt a subtle lump swell in his throat.

“So...what do you think?” König asked, his voice wavering slightly like it used to when he was a young schoolboy. There was a sparkle in your eye as the corners of your mouth turned up even more.

“You're exactly how I pictured you...beautiful," you murmured. König’s cheeks flushed as he smiled, his heart feeling as if it were about to burst.

"Danke," he replied.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #cod x reader #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig fanfiction #cod drabble #cod fluff #cod angst #konig x reader #konig mw2

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absdoll · 1 year ago

Note

hi bee!!! requesting anything to do with gym!abby fjshfjsjsn ily

nonnie u get me <3 ilysm hope u enjoy

also sorry not sorry this is so long ??? i’m just painfully horny & i daydream about shower sex with sweaty gym!abby oops spoiler ok ok love u byeeeeeeee ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ♡

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who walks in the door of the common area, mouth hung open and panting from her run. she had a heavy lift, it was leg day, and she finds that running afterwards helps to soothe her freshly toned quads.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who immediately notices you eyeing her up and down, a smirk forming on her face. she stands there, hands on her hips, still trying to catch her breath, sweat beading down her forehead.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who makes it a point to lock her gaze on yours, watching you as you watch her walk to the showers. she raises an eyebrow at you, and you take it as your cue to follow.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who shuts the door behind you, still not losing that stupid cocky grin. she wraps her big calloused hand over the faucet’s nozzle, turning it all the way to the left, the hottest temperature.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is slowly peeling her form fitting muscle tee off, leaving her in her black sports bra. her thick thumbs slide under the band of her sweatpants as she kicks them off, along with her boxers. the air in the room getting hotter and hotter, it’s becoming harder to see through the steam. yet, you can still feel the blonde’s piercing stare on you.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who sits on the bench in front of you, you now standing between her legs. “you’re gonna wanna take all this off soon, gettin’ hot pretty quick in here.” she flirts, tugging at your shorts, and eyeing your busty tank top.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby trails your every move as you remove your cute, tight, pink shorts. her fingertips ever so lightly graze up your thigh, barely making contact with your skin. “now this.” she breathes, indicating you to get rid of your shirt, “just take it all off.”

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is shamelessly staring at your naked body, still not touching you. the slick between where you’re craving her, so desperately, starts to fall down your leg, landing on abby’s bare thigh. her attention darts down to your sweet drip, looking back up at you with the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby presses a kiss to your stomach before standing up and shoving you back into the shower. hot, scorching water assaulting your skin. “ow!” you hiss.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who frowns at you, mockingly, walking closer to you until your back is firmly pressed against the cold tiled wall. resting her forehead on yours, she hikes your leg up to wrap around her waist. “deep breath.” she whispers in your ear.

abby’s rough fingers slide up your folds, purposely avoiding your pulsing bundle of nerves. she brings her hand to your lips, running her thumb across your bottom pout. within a split second, her steady grasp is firm on your jaw, “open up.” to please her, you lay your tongue out flat, doe eyed as she prepares her spit to drip onto your pink muscle.

“good girl, now swallow.” her hand now back down at your heated center, other arm resting on the wall above your head. without warning, her thick fingers plunge into you, causing you to gasp and tighten around her. she doesn’t move an inch. making you squirm and whine as you become more and more desperate.

“p-please!” you manage to cry out, which of course, makes abby smirk. “please what baby? what do you need?” she coos as you buck your hips, praying for some friction. “please fuck m-“ before you could even finish begging, abby thrusts her fingers into your squelching cunt as fast she can. pulling almost all the way out and then forcefully shoving back in, making you yelp as she curls inside of you. your soft small hands wrap around her hard biceps, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“what do you need pretty? tell me. keep telling me. you need me to keep fucking this sweet pussy?” you moan at her dirty words draped in her soft tone. “y-yes! ‘mmm so wet f-f ughghh fory-ouu! fuhh- oh mgod f-fuck me!” your pleads make abby’s thrusts faster and harder, as if that were possible, you clench around her relentless movements, nearing your peak.

your white gush beginning to drip onto abby’s palm, she rubs circles on your puffed up clit, your nails digging moons into her shoulders. “mm ‘m gonna c-cum mm!” as your milky cream coats abby’s fingers, she drops to her knees, attaching her mouth to your throbbing nub. keeping her pace inside of you, her lips blowing cool air and circling her tongue to catch all your juices.

abby laps up every last drop before licking one last stripe up your pussy, causing you to collapse on her chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” she breathes, adjusting the water to a colder setting.

a/n : if u hate this don’t tell me <3 i’m definitely gonna reread this in a few days & think it’s bad ／(˃ᆺ˂)＼ but whatvr ghdbdjsj

#🧸 bee writes ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ ✉️ : reqs #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us

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neoraso · 1 year ago

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survive the night | ksw

summary: you've had a crush on sunwoo for years, but what happens when he blurs the lines of your friendship? content: ftl, slightest angst but it's over in 4 seconds, happy ending, female reader. nonidol!sunwoo nonidol! reader wc: 5.3k an: this took me a bit to finish and it’s my first full length, i hope you enjoy!! let’s talk about it too~ do not repost or rework/copy any of my posts here or on other sites

The wind bit your cheeks as you hurried your steps towards the apartment complex ahead of you. It was nearing 9 p.m. but Sunwoo had called you an hour earlier asking if you could come through for some drinks and games with a few of the guys. In that very short time you had retouched your makeup and gone through four outfits before deciding on a hoodie and sweatpants Sunwoo had given to you because they were “too small” for him. Maybe it was poor taste to wear his old clothes to his house but honestly, they were comfortable and- you might have been completely head over heels for your friend, no big deal.

Lost in thought, you were almost surprised when you looked up and realized you had already reached the sleek, silver door and raised your hand to knock. Sunwoo had given you the passcode months ago when he was too busy gaming to get up and let you in, but you hadn’t used it since because it felt like you were overstepping some kind of boundary. Of course, that never stopped him from breaking and entering your home on various occasions, always scaring the hell out of you but you could never stay mad at him long.

Before long, Younghoon opened the door for you with a bright smile.

“Oh hey, we thought you were the food delivery”

“No,” you replied, matching his smile. “Sorry to be a disappointment. Who all ended up coming? Sunwoo said he invited everyone.”

“Chanhee and Changmin are home, Juyeon and Jacob and Kevin came. No one is really drinking yet. Maybe they’re waiting for you.” He said with a laugh.

You left your shoes at the door and walked down the hall with Younghoon trailing behind you into a very raucous living room. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own conversations and you were such a familiar face, your presence almost went unnoticed. Of course, Sunwoo was the first face you saw (well actually the first back-of-a-head), but before you could greet him you tripped on Kevin’s outstretched foot.

“Oops, sorry Y/N, is the food here?”

“No Kev, that was me at the door.” You said with a playful roll of your eyes.

At the sound of your voice, Sunwoo perked up and walked over to you with his arms wide open.

“Oh look everyone, it’s my mini me!!”

The sudden attention on you made your cheeks burn and it only got worse when Sunwoo’s taller, lithe frame wrapped around yours. You lagged a bit but snapped to and gently patted his back. He pulled away but stopped when his face was near your ear.

“Are you wearing perfume? It smells nice. Come sit with me, we’re gonna play a game soon.”

Suddenly feeling faint, you were glad to follow him to the couch and sit down. This was going to be a long night.

Later into the night after your bellies were full of food and too much alcohol, you thought you might have entered into some hellish realm. Sunwoo had been glued to you all night, keeping his arm on the couch behind you and hitting your shoulder or your leg when he laughed a little too hard. To make things exponentially worse, he kept leaning down to whisper side comments to you, his hot breath hitting your cheek a detriment to your sanity. While physical affection between you and any of your friends wasn’t uncommon, something seemed different tonight that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The only natural course of action was to keep drinking.

After another hour you were definitely more than tipsy thanks to two rounds of ‘Never Have I Ever’ and an even a special game of ‘Truth or Truth’ (thank you Kevin!). There was some respite when Changmin asked you to get him some water from the kitchen. You enjoyed being with your friends of course but Sunwoo’s proximity tonight was becoming unbearable. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it other than friendly affection, and yet, you could help fantasizing about a day where he made an actual move on you.

The cup of water you were filling spilled over your hand just as Changmin and Chanhee called your name-sounding a bit more like geese than tipsy boys. Taking a deep breath, you decided you couldn’t hide in the kitchen forever. You dragged your feet back to the living room and carefully handed Changmin his water.

“Did I look extra thirsty or something? Why the hell is it so full?”

“Be grateful.” You grumbled.

He ignored your attitude and sipped it anyways.

You plopped onto the couch and instantly an unnaturally warm pair of arms were around you.

It was Sunwoo, hugging you for no good reason that you could come up with. He squeezed you once then pulled away and grinned at you, making your face heat up more than the KGBs he had provided for the occasion. It was almost enraging that no one seemed to notice that you were about to become undone, this was practically abuse. Finding your voice, and sounding more coherent than you felt, you asked him,

“What was that for??”

“You were just so cute! I couldn’t help it.” He let go of you, putting his arm back behind you leaving your mind in shambles.

He couldn’t help it? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He had bragged earlier that his alcohol tolerance had gone up, but that seemed to be a lie because why else would he have been so careless?

You spent the next couple of hours trying not to fall asleep which was relatively easy considering how loud the boys still were at such a time of night. Eventually Sunwoo took note of your state and patted your leg.

“Are you tired?”

You nodded and rubbed your eyes. “Yeah, I better start walking home.”

Horrified was the only way to describe the look on his face. “Walk home?! It’s way too late and I can’t come with you, too cold. Just go sleep in my room I’ll come soon, I doubt the guys will stay much longer.”

You debated this. It would not be the first time you had spent the night together, but usually he slept on the floor or the couch. Now he was implying joining you and that was just ridiculous.

“Oh, it’s ok, I don’t have any of my products with me…”

Chanhee, who had apparently been eavesdropping, chimed in from the floor with his eyes closed. “You can borrow my makeup remover and skincare.”

Sunwoo beamed at this. “See? You already have a toothbrush here, just go lay down please, you look pitiful.”

You hesitated. This would most likely create 1000 more problems for you and your feelings for Sunwoo. The worst part of it was, you couldn’t tell where he was coming from. Was he being a kind friend or did he have some sort of hidden agenda? You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t a player, so it didn’t make sense for him to be doing anything unkind to you, and yet…Whatever. It was too late to care anymore.

After bidding everyone a good night (with many whines in return), you stumbled down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You examined your drunken reflection, sighing as you swiped away your smudged mascara. What did you get yourself into?

After cleansing and moisturizing, you found your way to Sunwoo’s room. There was practically only room for a bed- a small one at that- and you found yourself wondering if you even wanted him to sleep with you or not. While it would be everything you imagined before sleeping pretty much every night, it would haunt you forever if he meant nothing by it.

You were tired, but as you laid there in his bed with his scent permeating everything, anticipating him coming in to do… whatever it was he planned to do, you found yourself tossing and turning. Honestly, you wanted to cry. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions and anxiety that had built up over the night. Going home wasn’t an option, so you sighed, accepting your fate and tried to sleep.

After what seemed like ten hours, Sunwoo finally cracked open the door, probably thinking you were asleep. He shuffled his way to his dresser and you peeked your eyes open then tried to avert them away from him taking his hoodie off. Before he turned around, you quickly shut your eyes and turned over. You heard him sigh behind you and felt the bed slowly dip with his weight. He adjusted the blanket over you and dragged his hand across your side before bringing his arm back to his chest. The distance between you (or lack thereof) was killing you. Regardless, you tried to control your breathing so as not to give away that you were still very much awake. The spot he had touched felt as though he had electrocuted you. It was heartache.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out and could tell he was asleep. You gathered the courage to turn around and face him.

You’d always thought he looked a little goofy when he slept, mouth slightly open, bangs messy. But tonight, you felt the weight of your heart.

His hair’s grown out you thought absentmindedly, reaching up to move a strand out of his eyes. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his full lips were pursed against the pillow. Before you could help it, tears sprang to your eyes. There was not much longer you could go without confessing, or distancing yourself. This was just too much to bear. However, the thought of confessing brought on another wave of anxiety thinking about your friendship ending if he didn’t feel the same.

He had been with you since high school, had stuck by you in all your hard times as well as the good ones, consoled you after breakups; you were intertwined. You had always heard men and women can’t be friends and thought you two were the sole exception. That was, until your freshman year of college.

You remembered that time not too fondly. Keeping up with classes and assignments was stressful, but you had Sunwoo who thankfully got accepted to your same university. He was busy on the school’s soccer team but had always made time for you, bringing you coffee on your study dates, cheering you up on your rough days, it meant everything to you. Around winter break, while you two studied for finals (which usually meant him watching YouTube while you studied alone), he confessed he had a crush on a girl in one of his classes and asked you for advice on how to ask for her number. You both had had crushes in high school and it never bothered you when he would talk to other girls, but this time had been different. What had changed in you?

You thought it would be a small fling but they ended up dating for a year. It was agonizing watching him put his everything into someone else. She never liked you, complaining you and Sunwoo were too close. He tried to keep in touch with you but you saw much less of him than you had in the four years of knowing him.

Eventually she cheated on him. You remembered the dark circles under his eyes when he had knocked on your door the day they broke up. He didn’t say anything, just hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder. In all the time you had known him he had never cried in front of you, it infuriated you to think he had given his heart to someone so careless and vile. You never forgot the way he looked at you when he retold his last conversation with his ex.

“She told me it didn’t matter that she cheated, because my heart was with someone else the whole time. I think she meant you.”

You knew it wasn’t his intention to blame you, but you carried the guilt for months. Not guilty of her parting words and their implication, but guilt in the satisfaction you had for being so important to him. So much so that you were a threat to other women interested in him. It was a sick “If I can’t have him, no one can” mentality and you knew it wasn’t fair to him so for the next few years you resigned yourself to the loyal best friend role.

When you tried to branch out and pursue other guys, Sunwoo was always supportive. When things didn’t work out with other prospects- often because you wouldn’t cut off Sunwoo when they asked- he always ruffled your hair and sighed.

“At least we have each other, right?”

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you rolled to stare at the ceiling.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but you woke up abruptly and in an odd position.

Then you realized you were being held tightly against Sunwoo. Somehow in the night he had moved his arm under your pillow and had his other arm tucked against your waist, his forehead pressed against the back of your neck.

What the absolute hell?

This was too far for you, still it felt so nice- and natural, as if you were meant to fit together like this forever. This was everything you had dreamed of for years (albeit under different circumstances). Clearly, he did this in his sleep, so you decided to get up before he woke up too and got embarrassed.

You carefully lifted his arm off you and crawled to the end of the bed. He looked so adorable like this, you almost wanted to take a picture before realizing you never wanted to remember this day again.

Tiptoeing your way down the hall, you hoped everyone was still asleep like Kevin who was snoring on the couch. Just as you were about to walk past Chanhee’s room, he opened the door, making you jump

“You scared me Chanhee!” you sharply whispered. “You scared ME. Why are you up so early?”

You checked the time on your phone: 8:12 a.m.

“I’m starting to get a headache. I need some hangover soup. And coffee. ASAP.” You groggily replied, voice still hoarse from just waking up.

“I thought we could order it and eat together? Why are you in such a rush?” He questioned you. “Um, I have some errands to run. Sorry, I’ll text you!” To be fair, you did have errands and the first one was to get away from this house.

“Did something happen?” Chanhee was always good at reading you, but now it was starting to feel like an interrogation.

“Nope!” you lied, “I’ll text you!”

Before he could say anything else, you brushed past him and quickly put your shoes on, feeling like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The following days were not fun to say the least. The afternoon after you left, Sunwoo and Chanhee texted you multiple times throughout the day to ask if you were alright (Chanhee was a bit excessive). You insisted to them that you were just busy – which was true, you were busy avoiding Sunwoo, rotting in bed, suffering from mental anguish, etc. etc.

The next day, Sunwoo asked if you wanted to go to lunch with him and Hyunjae. While any other day you would’ve gone without hesitation, just the thought of Sunwoo was torturous, and so you politely declined with another excuse. Maybe it would’ve been better if he stopped trying, and you might’ve wished for it. But you knew that if he did, you would be the first person to cry themselves to death. It was a pretty wretched situation that you had put yourself in. This could easily be resolved if you just talked to him, but the idea was simply too terrifying. You had never been good at expressing your emotions out of fear of causing conflict, but this was different.

You realized you were in love with him. There was no going back and you were terrified.

After a week you were invited out with the group- and you decided you’d had enough crying and worrying. Sunwoo’s texts had dwindled to radio silence once he got sick of your dry replies. You didn’t know how you could show your face, but either way you just had to suck it up, meet your friends and put your feelings aside for Sunwoo’s sake.

This was easier said than done as you contemplated cancelling at least six times in the hour it took you to get ready. It was just barbecue and drinks, it was supposed to be fun. Maybe it would be but you didn’t know what to expect from Sunwoo. Would he be mad? Or act like nothing was wrong when it clearly was? You supposed there was only one way to find out.

When you got to the restaurant you spotted Chanhee first with an empty seat beside him.

“Is anyone sitting here?” You asked timidly.

“Oh hi, no I saved the seat for you.”

Something about his tone seemed off and made the sinking feeling in your gut feel ten times heavier. You looked around the table, greeting everyone and it didn’t take long for you to notice the absence in the group.

“Is Sunwoo in the bathroom or something?” you whispered to Chanhee.

“No, I don’t think he’s coming, he thinks you hate him.” His response was rather curt and made you feel like the walls were closing in around you.

“Oh…” was all you could muster.

“Do you? Hate him I mean. It seemed like whatever happened when you stayed the night completely made you stay away from him- and all of us.”

Awesome. So not only had you burnt the bridge between you and the only man you’ve ever loved, but you had also pushed away all of your closest friends too.

Hyunjae abruptly interrupted your thoughts. “Where’s Sunwoo? I thought he’d be anywhere you would be.” He looked at you so innocently, which relieved you. At least no one else knew something was up.

“Oh I … I’m not sure… I-“

“Hey what did I miss?” the familiar voice startled you at first, then sent an instinctual calmness through you.

You turned and looked at Sunwoo, trying to express your pain, your guilt. He didn’t even glance at you.

It stung and it took everything in you not to get up and walk out. But you stayed in your seat so you didn’t make a scene.

You spent the evening in silence, only speaking when spoken to and, to your dismay, Sunwoo seemed to be doing the same. After a while, you finally made eye contact for a split second and felt your eyes prick with tears. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you could barely make it there without breaking down. This was not the time or the place to be having a meltdown. Seeing him in front of you brought all the feelings you had tried to repress to the surface and it was too much.

After calming down a bit and erasing your tear tracks as best as you could, you returned to the table. Leaning down, you whispered in Chanhee’s ear that you weren’t feeling well and were going home. Younghoon had lost rock paper scissors and was paying, so there was no reason you couldn’t leave.

You hurried out of the building and paused outside, breathing in the crisp air. Hailing a taxi, you finally let everything spill over, probably making the driver extremely uncomfortable but you couldn’t really be bothered to care.

What were you going to do?

You reached home exhausted beyond belief. At least you’d gotten a meal, you thought dejectedly. Unfortunately, there was no plan for what you’d do when you got home. Any more crying seemed like a one-way ticket to Drowningville, but your mind still ran rampant. You could call one of your girlfriends, Mia knew about your crush and had consoled you through the last couple of years. But just as you picked up your phone, someone knocked on your door.

This was unusual. But then, it could be someone from your building management.

You weren’t stupid, you stood on the balls of your feet to look through the peephole and the sight in front of you made your breath catch.

It was him.

He reached up to knock again so you quickly unlocked and opened the door without thinking any further.

Both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes rimmed red and his stare intense.

He spoke first.

“Can I come in?”

You opened the door wordlessly, not really by choice, you were completely caught off guard.

Feeling the tears pooling again, you cursed yourself for being so weak and looked down at your feet. Suddenly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“What is wrong? What did I do? Everything was fine and then it wasn’t. I want my Y/N back.”

His whole expression was pleading and you felt so selfish for running away from your problems again.

“Do you want the whole truth, or the nice version?” You knew he wouldn’t, but you hoped he’d choose the latter option so you could white lie your way out of this situation. He let go of your face to tug your hair lightly and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“What do you think?”

“Ok fine.” You huffed. “I got freaked out the other night when I slept in your room. It just felt… like we were crossing lines and I know I’m being dramatic because it was just cuddling but it’s different for me. I shouldn’t have run away and I feel really bad about blowing off the rest of the guys, but you especially. You know you’re my closest …friend and I didn’t want to lose you but I didn’t know what to do because like I said-“

You suddenly stopped because he dropped his hands from your shoulders and looked away. Honestly, he looked pissed.

Nice, you thought I’ve ruined everything and I haven’t even told him I liked him yet. How much worse could this night get?

“Y/N.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you.” “I know, we’re friends”

“We’re friends… but when you say it’s different for you, what exactly do you mean?”

Now you were starting to sweat, noticing the way he held back a smile. Was he going to make you spell it out like some kind of sadist?

“I mean…It means more to me than just that kind of skinship. Especially when I…”

“When you what?” Now he was smirking and it was starting to anger you.

“Sunwoo…”

“We’ll leave it for tonight. As long as I know you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you I just-“

He pulled you into his arms, his hoodie had faint remnants of his cologne and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he rested his chin on top of your head. His chest rose with a deep inhale and then just as quickly as he grabbed you, he let you go. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him clenching his fist, he turned to you with a lopsided smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” “What if I was busy?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

Waking up feeling more rested than you had in a while, your mind wandered to last night. After Sunwoo’s unceremonious appearance (and exit), you had showered in a daze and immediately knocked out into a dreamless sleep.

Now all you had to fear was his threat of seeing you today.

There was no warning or even a text to let you know when this man was ever deciding on showing up. It was only 10 a.m., Sunwoo usually got up after 11 so it could be any time really. Thankfully, you had some time off work for the holidays, so you relished in your leisurely time putting your face and clothes on. You went about your day as normal: eating, watching YouTube, online shopping. All lame distractions from what you were anticipating. It wasn’t until 5:30 when he texted you.

.sunwoo🦝 : if you’re not already ready - get to it, I’ll be over in 30

So pushy, you could only laugh to yourself. It was odd, you thought, how the trauma of the last week was erased by a simple conversation and a hug from Sunwoo. You supposed it had always been like this, pain followed by a soothing only he could provide. He was your confidant, your rock, your safety. Whatever happened tonight was ok with you as long as you could keep him in your life.

Soon enough you heard your door open from your bedroom so you went to greet him. He met you with a rather awkward smile and hands politely behind his back which threw you off- you had never been uncomfortable around each other. Your smile quickly dropped,

“What’s wrong?” you prodded.

“Nothing!” he tried to assuage you with a laugh that sounded a little shaky.

You narrowed your eyes before looking back at his arms hiding something behind his back.

“What are you holding? You’re starting to freak me out…” You might have to forward your medical bill to him the way he constantly had your blood pressure rising. You needed him to get on with whatever he made you wait all day for.

“Well, it’s… well.” He stopped talking and brought his hands forward holding out a bouquet of sunflowers, chamomile and dahlias. You stood there for a couple seconds not understanding what was going on. “These are for you. As an apology for upsetting you, and, well I had something to say…” He trailed off, “Are you just going to stand there like a statue all night? Don’t you have a vase or something to put these in? I don’t want them to die, you know I can’t take care of plants.”

Reaching forward, your fingers brushed his as you took the flowers and felt like you were buzzing. The sweet gesture completely left you dazed, still convinced something was up.

“These are… for me?” you asked a bit dumbly. Before he could reply, you turned to walk to the kitchen.

“Yes, I thought it would be- well I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” His eyes followed your figure to you opening a cabinet to grab a vase that was just out of your reach. Quickly making his way over to you, he stood behind you to grasp it from the shelf. Your breath caught and your heart thumped a little too loudly when you felt his hand lightly rest on your waist as he took the vase and set it on the counter. Thankfully, he moved out of the way for you to fill it with water and put in the flowers trying to regain control of your breathing. The arrangement brightened up the space and reminded you of him- bright and sweet and lovely. You couldn’t imagine him going into a flower shop and picking these out, much less picking them out for you. The thought was a little funny but not funny enough…

Bringing you out of your reverie he softly made his way to you again and leaned against the counter. “You’re so silent I don’t like it.”

“Sorry I just don’t understand…” “I know,” he cut you off, “I just – I don’t know what I was thinking the other night. I’d blame it on the alcohol but really I was just being selfish. Things changed for me a while ago but I didn’t know to approach you. I always loved you but at some point, I started to realize just how much you mean to me. You’ve always taken care of me, cheered me on, been there for me. And then…when you went ghost on me, I panicked, I knew then I couldn’t live without you. I needed you to be mine, not as a best friend but as something more- I mean I feel so much more for you. I hoped you felt the same but I just couldn’t tell with the way you ran away from me. But then last night I felt like I was pressuring you to confess so I wanted to say it first. I like you, please give me a chance to take care of you. I want to be with you as long as you’ll let me.”

Throughout his monologue, you could barely hear him over your blood pumping in your ears and you felt a bit faint. This was everything you’ve wanted for over four years and it was finally coming true- you couldn’t believe this was real life. Your mind kept replaying him saying I’ve always loved you…

“Can you please say something.” He looked a little stern, but moved his hand gently to cup your cheek, stroking the skin there.

“Sunwoo…” He dropped his hand, looking at you with pleading eyes like he was anticipating your rejection. Grabbing his hand, you continued, “You must know how I feel, I’ve wanted you for so long. Please don’t tell me this is a joke.”

“I would never joke about this, you know I treasure your heart. I’ve always protected you. Even when you dated all those losers-“

“You dated losers too.”

“I know that. I couldn’t figure out why I was never satisfied, but I would always compare them to you and I chose our friendship every time.”

You could feel his sincerity and grabbed the fabric of his shirt at his thin waist.

“So… you really want to be with me?”

“More than anything.” He grabbed your face in his hands, just to look at you. It was so tender you wanted to cry. Again. Maybe there was something wrong with your tear ducts… Softly, he spoke up again.

“Can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to for so long.” All you could do was slowly nod and he stepped towards you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your temple, your cheek and finally pressed his lips against yours. You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them up to grab the hair at his nape, pressing him tighter against you. He kissed you twice more then moved to kiss your cheek again, squishing your face to purse your lips and kiss you again. You felt like you could black out as he ran his lips across your jawline, kissing just under your ear as he whispered an apology, finally pulling away.

Breathless, you replied “No need to apologize.” You moved your hands back to his shoulders, and tried not to look at his mouth, glossy from your lip balm and plump from his affections. As he ran his tongue over his lips and slightly smirked you thought,

He will be the death of me.

“Well…” trying to disperse the intense energy in the air you turned to look at the flowers again. “These are really pretty, thank you.”

“Well the lady at the shop helped a lot. Honestly I wanted to get you more gifts but I thought if you rejected me I would have to jump out of your window to escape the humiliation.”

Sighing, you faced him again.

“Honestly Sunwoo, how could you think I would ever reject you??”

“I don’t know!! Damn, I don’t know why it took me so long to admit my feelings. I always hated your boyfriends-“

“All two of them.” You reminded him with an eye roll.

“Ok well still. I hated all two of them.” “How do you think I felt watching you dote on other girls? Being so affectionate, writing songs for them…”

“You were always my inspiration. It was easier to write about someone I had a deeper connection with and that was always you.” “Well now I’m angry.” You pulled away and crossed your arms.

A look of panic washed over his face. “Angry with me already? We can’t start like this. Y/N, even though I didn’t see it quickly enough, we have so much time ahead of us.”

Looking at love itself, you pulled him in for another kiss.

You could never stay mad at him long.

#sunwoo #kim sunwoo #tbz #the boyz #sunwoo imagines #tbz sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz x reader

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midmourn · 1 year ago

Text

accidentally revealing your relationship

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

reposting from my old blog.

members ot7 nct dream

summary one of you accidentally reveal your relationship.

Mark. the poor boy had a picture of you and him as his homescreen. yeah, not his smartest choice. he was on vlive and was showing fans something on his phone and he completely forgot about his homescreen and clicked off. "so yeah there's the proof that haechan threatened me," he giggled, pressing his home button to get off the messages, screen still facing the camera for a second. it was just long enough that people were able to see what it was. he squinted at the comments, tilting his head, "what do you guys-- oh." he backed up slightly in shock, eyes widening at the camera before hurriedly turning off the vlive. he stared down at the floor silently before looking up at the manager behind the camera, "oops."

Renjun. so technically it wasn't his fault! literally no one told yall they would be going on vlive and so ... the boys were in their dressing room and unluckily yall happened to be right in the corner of the camera frame ... you reached up to give renjun a kiss on the cheek, and the camera managed to catch that and renjun's face but not your face!! yeah no one knew until the comments started exploding about the unknown person giving renjun a kiss and the boys knew it could only be you. and as always, screamed loudly to get your attention before turning off the live. you and renjun about almost killed them for not telling you or being more careful.

Jeno. okay so you were on your way to sm company to give him his lunch bc he was practicing alone. you texted him that you were there and were on your way up but literally before you could even get in the building, he was already opening the doors and meeting you halfway. “i told you—“ he ignored your words, pulling you in by your jacket to press a kiss on your lips. as always, there are literally fans or outsiders outside of sm’s building at all times. and of course they took pictures and videos and uploaded it to sns immediately. it wasn’t until you pulled away that he realized what he did. “oh.” “yeah, oh,” you mocked, pushing him into the building as you glared at him. “congratulations, our relationship is now public.” “sorry,” but he didn’t seem sorry at all, if the grin on his face was saying anything.

Haechan. haechan … is a very obvious person. he would only compliment you when your group was miraculously brought up(probably also by him) and only sing/rap your parts of your songs. it didn’t help the fact that fans were already suspicious because you two were seen at the same place at different times and you frequently stole some of his clothes and wore it out. BUT! it’s only when he reads a comment about you outloud(“y/n from y/g complimented your vocals!!”) and he says, “yeah, y/n is a very nice partn—“ and cuts himself off before he can finish the word, eyes wide as he stares at the camera. “they’re a very nice, nice— um, idol. i’ve got to go practice, bye!” but like i said, he’s very obvious and fans heard him say the romantic word~~ oops.

Jaemin. it’s no secret that jaemin is a huge fan of having matching couple items, like with his members and especially you— since you’re, you know, a couple and all. his personal favorite was your custom made matching necklaces, so you wore it everywhere. unfortunately, seeing as the owner had no idea of anything concerning you two, when fans asked about your necklace to buy it, he said a young man came in and had it custom ordered. fans put two and two together and … boom. rumors were made up and since it really blew up, your companies denied it despite the rumors being true. even if they denied it, fans were very convinced you two were dating. no more privacy for you anymore! sorry jaemin you should’ve said something or not had it custom made. 🥲

Chenle. you like to take pictures of you and daegal and post it on your private twitter account, so what? he had no problem with it, even being in a few of them since he knew only your members and a few friends were on your private twitter. so when you did that exact thing, he didn’t care and merely posed with daegal sitting on your chest. it’s minutes later when his phone starts getting multiple text messages and he checks it only to see messages about you posting a picture on twitter. “babe,” he inhaled, “did you post it on your private account?” you glance up at him in confusion, “the picture? yeah.” he closed his eyes, leaning his head back, “are you sure it wasn’t on your main account?” it dawns on you right then and there. “oh my god.” in one minute, the tweet is deleted but thousands of people have already seen it and screenshotted. the koreaboo article is up within twenty minutes. . I am so sorry 😀

Jisung. ah, sweet sweet jisung. he was on vlive while you were at the corner store to get snacks for your movie night. he didn’t originally plan to go in vlive but decided to have a voice only vlive because he was bored. he thought you’d be gone for a while and would be done before you got back, so he didn’t text you about it. he was reading comments when you walked in, already talking as soon as you opened the door, “hey babe, i got that ice cream you like, the one—“ when he started coughing loudly in the middle of your sentence, you looked up and saw his eyes widening as he pointed at his phone violently. it didn’t take long for you to understand once you checked your own phone and saw that you had a notification from vlive, signaling someone went live. ‘oh my god’ you mouthed at him and he coughed again to fill the silence, eyes going back to the screen to read the comments to see if anyone heard you clearly. unfortunately … they did, and they heard the petname, too. he made up an excuse to get off quickly and groaned, putting his face in his hands. needless to say, fans reposted the clip of your voice everywhere.

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mickandmusings · 6 months ago

Text

love you, miss you, mean it

*this is a two part series, read part two here!*

**I recommend listening to 'love you, miss you, mean it' by luke bryan. it's a slight inspiration for this story and it's part two. (sorry, my southern roots are showing oops) **

pairing: bob floyd x f!kazansky!reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: before the daggers, before the uranium mission, before even top gun and 'bob', there was just young bobby floyd, finding himself at the doorstep of the kazansky household, year after year, finding family between a father and daughter, and a new understanding of true love.

(based off a request, but i'll post it when i'm finished with both parts, it will give too much away! <3)

warnings: lots of sticky sweet fluff, I accidentally made Ice a single dad??, 'Bobby' as Bob's civilian name, most likely military inaccuracies

The very first time Bob Floyd found himself standing on the Kazansky's front door, he was seventeen years old. He had parked his hand-me-down pickup truck on the street in front of the house, crossed the yard in record time, and rang the doorbell. He was standing on the welcome mat in a spiffy black tux, his sweaty palms clutching a plastic box that contained a corsage made of light purple flowers. Bob had no idea what kind of flowers they were, more than happy to leave that to the florist, but he knew they were the same color as the bowtie that seemed to be choking him. He was incredibly nervous, pushing his glasses up his nose in a repetitive nervous habit. His sapphire eyes caught a tall shadow approaching the door, and Bob felt his spine straighten, his heart hammering in his chest. Bob had heard the stories of Admiral Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander (and more importantly, Y/N's dad) but now, as Iceman stared down at him, he began to realize he certainly lived up to his callsign.

The Admiral's eyes were a cool blue, piercing through the teenage boy's frame as he looked him up and down. He had seemingly only just arrived home from work, still in his Navy attire. His well-pressed, wrinkle-free Navy uniform made him appear taller than he was, a looming presence that demanded respect. The flat, stoic look on his face seemed permanent, only cutting into a small upturn as he spoke.

"You must be the Bobby I keep hearing about."

Bob nods, letting out a measly, "Yes sir," before sticking out a clammy hand to shake Y/N's father's hand.

The Admiral shakes his hand with a firm grip, squeezing Bob's hand so tightly that Bob swore his blood flow had been cut off. Finally, he opened the front door wider to allow Bob in, speaking as he shut the door back into the frame.

"You should probably take a seat, get comfortable. She's been giggling upstairs for hours now, but I doubt she's ready. You'll get used to it, waiting around until she's ready."

Bob chuckles nervously, sitting stiffly on the couch as he watches the Admiral stomp about the kitchen, seemingly making a cup of coffee. The silence is deafening, Bob is too nervous to say anything, but the man's booming voice soon cuts the quiet with ease.

"So, Bobby, Y/N says you're a military brat too, is that right?"

"Uh, y-yes sir, my father, he's in the service as well, my grandfather was too, sort of the Floyd family legacy."

The Admiral nods, absorbing the information.

"What about you, do you have any plans to-"

"Dad!" Y/N's annoyed voice broke the Admiral's sentence. Her heels clack down the wooden stairs, her dress whooshing in the wind created by her motion. Bob turned his attention in the direction of her voice, standing promptly, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight of Y/N. She was dazzling in her pastel purple gown, a slight smile on her face as she spoke. "Stop trying to recruit my prom date."

Y/N and her father shared a look, seemingly speaking without having to say a word before she broke out into a smile, matching the wide toothy grin of her father, before turning back to Bob, a slight pink blush forming across her cheeks. Bob blushed as he saw her walk into the room, making his way over to her.

"Y-You look," Bob swallows thickly, gaining his confidence. "You're beautiful."

Y/N blushes fiercely, straightening the lavender bowtie around Bob's neck.

"You clean up pretty well yourself."

The teenagers' awkward gazing is cut off by Ice clearing his throat loudly, his mug of coffee in his hand as he approached them.

"C'mon, kid. Your grandparents'll kill me if I don't get a thousand pictures of you two before you leave."

Y/N cut her eyes at Bob as he stuck his arm out for her to take, helping her over the threshold of the door and into the yard, the Admiral standing in front of them with his camera ready. They all went through the motions of a typical prom photo shoot-the corsage exchange, the awkward photos in front of the house, the send off.

Finally, she and Bob were down the road in his truck, Y/N smiling in his passenger seat, Bob's shoulders much more relaxed, not feeling nearly as tense in the presence of her looming father.

"Sorry about my dad," Y/N speaks over the music playing in the truck, squeezing Bob's hand where their hands intertwined on the console. "He's just a little protective, and, not very good at small talk." She chuckles lightly.

"No, no, it's fine. He was nice. Intimidating for sure, but nice. Made a joke that you take too long to get ready for everything."

"Of course he did," Y/N smiled and rolled her eyes, leaning her head on Bob's arm. The high school juniors had been dating for a little over six months, but both of them were head-over-heels.

The couple arrived and carried on as usual for teenagers on a prom night-mingling with their mutual friend and indulging on PTO-mom made snacks. As the night wrapped up, the last slow song of the night had Bob and Y/N swaying under the sparkling disco ball in the middle of the gym. Bob's tux jacket had been discarded on a chair hours ago, accompanied by Y/N's heels, both tossed about carelessly in favor of running back to the dance floor. Her head rested on his chest, his hands around her waist sweetly. Neither of them were paying much attention to the song playing, or the other numerous couples swaying next to them. Bob's blue orbs were focused entirely on the girl looking up at him from his chest, his hand moving to brush stray curls that had fallen in her eyes. As he looked at her face, his chest filled with warmth, a funny feeling erupting, one he had never felt before. His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing.

"What's the matter, B?" Her voice came soft, just loud enough for both of them to hear.

"I love you," It came out blunt and honest, with no hesitation. Neither of them had said it before, and he watched as Y/N's face went from one of confusion to one of pure elation, a wide grin forming on her face as Bob lightly pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a kiss more meaningful than their previous ones.

That night, when Bob dropped her off back at her house, with the figure of her father sitting in their living room, he smiled as he helped her out of the truck and closed the door behind her. He walked her to the front door and kissed her again before saying goodnight, a permanent smile etched on his face. He watched her get into the house and waited for the porch light to turn off before peeling out of the driveway, his face aching from his never ending smile.

When he got into his own house for the night, his tux coat thrown over his shoulder, bowtie undone and his feet aching in his dress shoes, he collapsed onto his bed with a content sigh. His phone dinged with a new message, and he smiled as he saw Y/N's name flash across the screen. He opened it quickly:

I love you, too. I miss you already. Mean it.

A blush sprouted across his fair skin, typing back a reply as his heart soared.

Over the next few years, Bob found himself on the Kazansky doorstep hundreds of more times-weekend dates, barbecues, birthdays, study dates, movie nights, senior prom, just because, forgetting his house keys in Y/N's room, graduation parties, the list could go on and on forever. He had grown to find the Kazansky household his second home, Iceman's walls slowly melting towards the awkward boy his daughter loved. Y/N's father would allow him to stay over on long weekends and holidays through her first years of college and his of the Naval Academy, letting Bob tag along for family vacations. Bob slowly became an extension of the Kazansky family. Bob learned lots about the Admiral during his days and weeks of being in their home. Iceman loved things that made him seem less and less intimidating from when they first met. Tom Kazansky loved to make homemade banana bread, could often be found dozing off with a book in his hand, leaned back in the recliner closest to the front door, and the Admiral loved rom-com movies with a fierceness only championed by his own daughter. The father and daughter were a well-oiled machine, understanding each other in a way that Bob had never seen before. Bob would observe as the duo would work in fluid motion in the kitchen cooking dinner-knowing what each other was thinking without having to say a word. Y/N tossing her father spices and seasonings as he lifted the spoon to her mouth, and Iceman knowing just how she liked her coffee, her tea, and her favorite shape of ice. They knew one another inside and out, something Bob would often sit in awe of. It was a true display of love for one another, so loved that you know everything about someone, you know what they need without having to say a word.

When Bob had visited the Kazansky's over his final Christmas break from the Academy, he had expected the feeling of closeness and familial love. He found himself in the kitchen with Y/N, an Elvis Christmas record spinning in the living room adjacent. He wordlessly handed her the spoon from the pot he was stirring, her lips pursing as she thought for a moment, handing him a container of salt and other seasonings she knew were needed for the soup. Bob wordlessly adds an estimated amount in the pot before he stops abruptly, realizing what had just happened. His heart hammers, he and Y/N had been dating for nearly five years now, his time at the Academy coming to an end. They had suffered through nearly four years of a long distance relationship-he in Maryland at the Naval Academy, her attending college back in their hometown. They had made it through with phone calls and even letters, long lonely days and nights, and a love for one another that defied odds. He stopped stirring promptly, looking as Y/N was pressing cookie dough onto a pan, her eyes looking up at him.

"B? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She smiled at him sweetly, wiping off her hands before placing them on his cheeks. "Do you feel okay? You're really red, you're warm. Do you think you're coming down with a cold?"

Bob couldn't make his dry mouth form many words, finally sputtering out a single sentence:

"I-I need to talk to your Dad."

Y/N's eyebrows furrow, looking at her boyfriend incredulously, as if he had grown another head.

"Um, okay? He's in his office. Bobby, are you okay?"

Bob nodded, leaning down to place a kiss on her head before racing off to the office on the second floor. Y/N only shook her head and continued making her cookies.

Bob knocks on the heavy office door, waiting for a response.

"It's open," Iceman's voice sounds from behind the thick mahogany colored door. Bob creaks open the door, Ice's cool eyes softening as he sees Bob enter.

"She drive you out of the kitchen already, Bob?" His voice was laced with humor. "She's too much like me, taking control of every situation. Sorry."

Bob laughs, "No sir, I just, needed to talk to you."

Ice narrows in on Bob's firmly serious expression, leaning back in his chair and looking at the boy man in front of him. Bob had grown up in the past few years, taller and more muscular thanks to the Academy. He only wore his glasses when required by the military, often opting for contacts when he was home, giving him a more mature look.

"What can I do for you, son?"

Bob's heart hammered in his chest. Was he planning on doing this now? No-he had planned for a lovely dinner, perhaps a walk on the beach before he did all of this. He had certainly, at least, planned on finishing the Academy before all of this, but after their interaction in the kitchen, the complete domesticity of it, paired with his overwhelming love for her, he knew now was the right time.

"Mr. Kazansky-"

Tom interrupts him, shaking his head in a good-natured manner. "How many times have I told you to call me Iceman, or Tom? I've known you for half a decade, I don't think the formalities are necessary."

Bob nods, understanding the man's warmth, but this was different.

"Any other time before this, and after this, sir, absolutely. But I'm coming to you for matters that pertain to Y/N, and I want this to be as respectful as possible."

Tom nods curtly, appreciating Bob's respectful nature, hands meeting in his lap as Bob speaks.

"Sir, I-," Bob swallows. He thought about this conversation a million times over and over as he stared at his ceiling at the Academy every night. "I love your daughter. I have for five years now. She is infinitely kind, and overwhelmingly beautiful. She's far too smart for me to keep up with most days, and she makes even my worst days bright. I think that's truly a testament to your parenting, she's the most headstrong yet considerate person I know. She loves fiercely, and looks after those she loves with the same fervor. She knows me unlike anyone else, and she's quickly become my feeling of home. Her music has taken over my truck, my headphones, and my inner thoughts. Her favorite movies have become part of my repertoire, and her favorite books sit next to mine on a bookcase in my room. Her things are scattered all over my apartment, and she is seeped into my every thought. When something good happens, she's the first person I want to call. When something bad happens, she's the first person I want to call. I want to spend the rest of my life with her by my side. I know this is sort of sudden, but I've spent every night for a year thinking about this, and I-I would like to marry Y/N. I graduate from the Academy in less than six months, and I'll be in aviation school, and I just-I want her to know she's a priority for my future. If I have your blessing, I would like to ask her before I go back to the Academy."

Tom's head nods, standing from his chair behind the desk, causing Bob to stand, Tom's palm meeting his in a handshake, a sign of respect. He suddenly pulls Bob into a hug, a tightness that is only matched by Y/N herself, the infamous Kazansky suffocating hug.

"You've got my blessing, kid."

Bob nods in understanding, pausing as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He smiles lightly at Y/N's name and several emojis beside her name on the screen.

It's lonely down here. :( Love you, miss you, mean it.

He smiles at their simple loving joke that had survived from when she had first said it years ago. He pockets his phone again, looking up at Iceman with a newfound confidence.

"Thank you, Ice, sincerely. Y/N means more to me than I feel like I could express in words."

Tom's face breaks out into a smile, his eyes twinkling with something that might have been the beginning of tears, but that's yet to be confirmed. He lightly slapped a hand on Bob's shoulder.

"For what it's worth, you've got my permission. But it's not mine that matters, kid, it's hers."

part two out now!

#bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #request

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