#thank u again these lil things are nice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannieehaee · 3 months ago

Text

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut

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figthoughts · 10 days ago

Note

ok so first of all i just wanna say that i literally live for your fics/drabbles, they make my day and your writing is so so good!

my request is how do u think dean and/or ben would react to finding out their gf wears glasses? can be nsfw or not, wtv u want! (tho with ben it'll probably be nsfw lmao)

thank you sm! that’s v kind! and ooooh, i like this idea!!! i hope you enjoy, soldier boy’s part is a lil nsfw <3

— dean winchester ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

the first time dean saw you pull out your glasses, his jaw dropped and his brows knitted together in confusion, “you wear glasses?”

“yeah,” you responded, sliding them on as you looked at him, sharing the confusion.

“since when?”

“since always, dean. you know i wear glasses.”

“no, i don’t. i’ve never seen you wear them.”

“i’m sure you have… at some point. i mean, i wear contacts during hunts, so i don’t risk losing my glasses and therefore my vision, but surely you’ve seen them before…”

“huh…. no, never seen them,” he shrugs and tries to think back to a time when he’s seen you in your glasses. he takes a sip of his beer, studying you almost as you crack open your lore book to continue researching for the case.

after a few moments, he speaks up again, “they’re nice, you know…”

“what?” your eyes meet his as you raise your brows, waiting on an explanation.

“your glasses. they’re nice. you suit them,” he comments, the compliment rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

you smile at the warm feeling in your chest, “really? i feel kinda dorky having to wear them sometimes.”

“don’t. you look good, like a….” he pauses, trying to find the right words, “a sexy little nerd.”

you chuckle and shake your head, “i don’t know if sexy is the word i’d use, but thanks...”

“it’s what i’d use,” he nods as he speaks, “my sexy little nerd in her sexy little glasses.”

— soldier boy [ ben ] ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

ben’s head snaps towards the door as he hears you step inside, his eyes instantly falling on your glasses and the pout playing on your lips.

he can’t help but grin at your expression, “welcome home, darlin’. aren’t you a pretty picture in your glasses?”

you sigh at his teasing and take a seat next to him on the couch, slumping against him, “no,” you mutter flatly, “they look and feel weird. i can’t believe i have to wear them all the time.”

ben chuckles as you whine. he wraps his arm around you, “they don’t look weird. you look hot. they make you look all smart and distinguished.”

you let out a scoff as you rest your head on his shoulder. you fiddle with your new glasses as you speak, “you don’t have to lie, ben. i know i look funny.”

he grins at the frown on your face, clearly amused by your huffing and pouting. he cards his fingers through your hair, “sweetness, you could never look funny. trust me, you look as delicious as ever.”

you groan in protest, the pout growing on your lips, “no, i don’t.”

ben chuckles, his grin turning into a sinister little smirk, “yes, you do. you look just edible in them, baby.” you shake your head as he continues speaking, “fine… you know what else glasses are good for?”

you sigh, trying to fight off the small smile from spreading on your lips at his cheeky tone, “what?”

“protects your eyes, you know? from things…” he responds smoothly, the innuendo evident in his words.

the smile breaks it’s way onto your face, “like what?”

he runs his tongue along his lips as he continues to smirk, “why don’t i just show you, baby?”

within minutes, he has you on your knees in front of him, his grip in your hair slamming your face down into his lap over and over. he pulls you back and finishes, his seed shooting all over your face and onto your glasses as you look up at him.

“see, darlin’,” he huffs out, “they’re hot and they protect those pretty little eyes i love so very much.”

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atlabeth · 8 months ago

Text

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus.

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem.

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you.

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now.

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon.

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them.

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention.

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once.

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in.

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did.

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive.

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake.

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher.

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it.

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder.

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking.

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night.

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce.

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time.

“What?”

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips.

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.”

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.”

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—”

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.”

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.”

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.”

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.”

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.”

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you.

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you?

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.”

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.”

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.”

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.”

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.”

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief.

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl.

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?”

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.”

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?”

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.”

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.”

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs.

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination.

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.”

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind.

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.”

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.”

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes.

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world.

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.”

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did.

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.”

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to?

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.”

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk.

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything.

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol.

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say.

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.”

“How do you feel about tequila?”

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.”

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.”

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.”

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.”

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.”

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.”

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles.

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows.

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.”

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be.

#me ignoring all my wips for a hot man?? it's more likely than you think #also ive listened to too sweet on repeat for like 3 hours i dont want to take my whiskey neat anymore #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

Hey queen what about a lil fic of reader with one of the boys (u can pick whoever!!) where it's her first healthy relationship and May be she thanks them for being nice and he's just like ummm I don't wanna be mean to u

Thanks for requesting lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You have a habit of complaining into the void. It’s not the first text you send James griping about your day at work and it likely won’t be the last, but you’re surprised when the result is him turning up at your desk with flowers and a coffee.

“James,” you say dumbly, looking up in absolute astoundment as he sets the flowers carefully by your keyboard and bends down for a kiss.

“Hi, angel.” James presses the coffee into your hand. Spots the empty desk next to yours and, with a quick glance around, steals the chair, sitting beside you. “Are you still on your lunch break?”

“I—yeah.” Your brain can’t quite make sense of him at your work. It’s like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the store. James, with his casual clothes and easy smile, doesn’t belong in this place. “I’ve got twenty minutes left. What are you doing here?”

“You seemed like you were having a rough morning,” he says simply. “I thought I might see if I could come and make you feel a bit better—don’t worry, I brought supplies.”

He shrugs out of one strap of his backpack, swinging it around onto his lap and pulling out a small vase. James seems too distracted to have noticed your stupefaction.

“Do you have a sink around here?”

You point him towards the break room and he hurries off, returning a minute later to arrange your flowers in the vase.

“I know it might be silly,” he says, as he works with a care that belies his words, “but I was thinking that if I was stuck in one place all day, it might help me to have something nice to look at. I considered getting you a mirror, but I thought you may have grown used to that particular sight so I ought to mix it up.”

James glances up to catch your reaction to the last bit, dimples appearing when you fluster. As he sits back down, his gaze roams your workspace, largely empty as most of your coworkers have gone to lunch. He swivels the chair from side to side absentmindedly, his knees brushing yours with each pass. It feels like someone striking a match.

“I didn’t know you had so few windows in here.” He blows out a breath. “We should hit a park or something after you’re off tonight, get you some time in the sun.”

“That sounds nice,” you say, lifting the coffee in your hand to your lips reflexively.

It’s not until you register the taste that you think to look at the logo on the cup. It’s from your favorite coffee shop, the one with only one location, which you almost never go to because it’s so far from where you work and live.

“James,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “did you go all the way across town to get this?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head sideways to rest it on his palm. “That’s the one you like, right?”

“Yeah, but…” You shake your head, grinning. “You’re crazy,” you say, when you mean to say You’re incredible.

“Crazy for you.” He makes a disgusted face as he says it, laughing at himself. You can’t bring yourself to do the same.

You remember a time, not so long ago, when you would have felt lucky if the person you were dating responded to your texts at all. James has responded in person, with kind words and gifts and a thoughtfulness that’s going to brighten not just the rest of your day but your week. You’ve no idea what to do with this much sweetness.

You shake your head again. “Thank you. Seriously, I—this is too nice. You’re so—” You lean forward, running your forefinger over the stubble on his jaw as you peck him on the lips. His smile leaps up on his face. “You’re so sweet to me, Jamie. Thank you.”

“I don’t mind, sweetheart, really.” James palms the back of your elbow, his touch trailing down to your wrist as you pull away. “I like doing things for you. You deserve it.”

You smile at him, letting the sincerity in his voice warm your chest. “Nobody’s ever been this nice to me before,” you admit.

James’ expression heavies slightly, a divot forming in between his brows. You feel embarrassed for having said it. You don’t mean to sound self-pitying, you only want James to understand how much you appreciate him, how unprecedented he is for you.

He smooths his thumb over the hairs on your arm. “I want you to be happy,” he says, a carefulness to his words that’s so unlike his usual quick, energetic way of speaking. “Angel, I’ve got no reason to be anything but nice to you, because it makes me happy to see you happy. It’s like—” He glances away from your face for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “Like I’m getting to see you the way you’re supposed to be, does that make sense?”

He looks to you for confirmation. You can only stare back at him in stunned silence, horrendously in love and falling deeper by the second. James must find whatever he’s looking for in your expression, though, because he gives your wrist a friendly squeeze and goes on.

“You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be treated nicely, no matter who you’re with, but I’m happy to be the person who gets to treat you that way.” He lifts his eyebrows as though to be sure you’re listening, lips quirking slightly. “And you’re nicer than nice to me, so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about bringing you flowers and a coffee being too nice. Got it?”

Your face is a furnace. You don’t know how to respond.

James grins, looking ten percent smug and ninety percent smitten. “Say okay, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you echo, unable to help breaking into a smile of your own. “Thanks.”

James groans. He grabs the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him until your knees are on either side of his. “Enough with the thanks,” he chides, more laughter than irritation in his tone. “Those other people sound like assholes, lovely. We’ve gotta up your standards.”

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maybcnksgf · 5 months ago

Note

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

— amortentia ; sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader 𐙚

☆

summary: one thing about you is that you could not stand sirius black. one thing about sirius black is that he could not stand you.

warnings: swearing, drinking, james is an arse in this sorry :,(

a/n: hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

check out my masterlist & send in any requests <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

#imagine #fluff #angst #sirius black #sirius black x reader #young!sirius black #marauders era #one shot #marauders #fluff imagine #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x reader angst #enemies to lovers #best friend!remus lupin

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stunie · 6 months ago

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the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.

THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))

original post here! sfw, 700 word count.

my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>

"huh? sakura?"

he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”

“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.

it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.

“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—

“…you okay? sakura?”

the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.

there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.

“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.

“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.

the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

he feels so warm.

“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.

“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.

“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.

#sakura x reader #windbreaker x reader #sakura haruka x reader #sakura fluff #sakura haruka fluff #windbreaker fluff #wind breaker x you #windbreaker x you #wind breaker x reader #🦢— mail !

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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

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