#there are simply not enough hours in a day!!
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movie — spencer reid
pairing : spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer accidentally uses the word "we" content warnings: secret relationship , rossi playfully getting mad at reader , mention of closed case a/n: me and emily share the same opinion
The weight of the case you had just wrapped up still lingered, but for once, it wasn’t suffocating. You had saved the victim—just in time. It was the kind of win that made the exhaustion a little easier to bear, the long hours and dark realities a little more worth it.
You sat across from Spencer in the jet, your legs subtly interlocked with his beneath the table—not obvious but enough to feel content.
He held a book in his hands, fingers resting against the worn spine, but his eyes weren’t on the pages. Instead, he was listening as the team engaged in a heated debate over movies.
"The Thing is a must-watch movie,” Rossi declared, leaning back in his seat with the confidence of a man who had lived long enough to know a classic when he saw one. “I mean, come on—it’s a masterpiece.”
Emily scoffed, arms crossed. “It’s just a bunch of paranoid guys stuck in the snow. Half of them barely have personalities.”
“That’s what makes it brilliant,” Spencer interjected, his voice slipping into the conversation as easily as he slipped into statistics. “The isolation, the uncertainty of who’s human and who’s not—it’s a perfect study of paranoia.The ambiguity of the ending only adds to the tension.”
You bit your lip to keep from smiling. That was Spencer—effortlessly brilliant, unknowingly endearing.
Derek chuckled. “And here we go with the movie analytics.”
Spencer smiled apologetically but didn’t say anything, instead he shifted slightly in his seat. His knee pressed a little more firmly against yours. You smiled softly at your boyfriend.
As the conversation continued, you watched Spencer’s fingers absently trace the edges of his book.
“What’s your opinion on it?” Derek asked, nodding at you. You had been quiet throughout the discussion, content to listen rather than participate.
You shrugged, feeling everyone’s attention shifting to you. “Don’t have one,” you admitted casually.
Derek raised a brow. “How do you not have an opinion?”
“I’ve never watched it.”
The moment the words left your mouth, you felt the entire mood in the jet shift. Rossi let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head in what could only be described as theatrical disappointment.
“This generation,” Rossi muttered under his breath, exasperated.
You raised your eyebrows at him. “Is it really that big of a deal?”
Spencer, who had been quiet until now, suddenly shifted his leg against yours—just a small movement, but enough to catch your attention. When you glanced at him, he met your gaze with a look of utter disbelief.
“Yes,” he said simply, siding with the rest of the team without hesitation.
Even Emily, who had just been trashing the movie moments ago, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you kind of have to watch it at least once. It’s a cultural milestone.”
“I just don’t see the appeal,” you said, shrugging.
Rossi let out another dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as if you had personally offended him. “Young lady, I expect you to watch this movie in the next three days—at the very least. And if you don’t—” He turned to Hotch, completely serious. “Aaron, I want you to fire her.”
You laughed quietly, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, glancing around at your teammates, who still looked thoroughly scandalized.
Before you could protest further, Spencer spoke up, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “We can watch it tomorrow if you want.”
The second the words left his mouth, you felt your entire body freeze. Slowly, you turned to look at him, eyes wide.
Spencer, who had seemed completely unaware of his slip-up, only realized what he had just said when he saw your expression. His lips parted slightly as if he was about to backtrack, but then he clamped his mouth shut, looking like he wanted to disappear into his chair.
For a split second, there was silence—thick, heavy, and dangerous.
And then—
“What?” Derek’s voice cut through the air, loud and full of suspicion.
Without thinking, you kicked Spencer lightly under the table, your foot making solid but harmless contact with his shin. He flinched slightly, but to his credit, he barely reacted otherwise, keeping his face neutral even as you shot him a look that screamed really?
Morgan narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze between the two of you. “We?” he echoed, emphasizing the word.
Emily leaned forward, suddenly interested. “Yeah, Reid. We?”
Spencer cleared his throat, clearly trying to recover. “I—I just meant—hypothetically, if she wanted someone to watch it with, I—”
“You’d volunteer as tribute?” Emily teased, smirking.
“I mean—statistically speaking, it’s more enjoyable to experience a film with someone rather than alone,” Spencer rushed out, his voice just a little too high, a little too fast.
You resisted the urge to groan. He was not helping.
Rossi, who had been watching the exchange like it was an unfolding plot twist in one of his own novels, suddenly smirked. “Interesting.”
Hotch, the only one who hadn’t reacted much, simply raised an eyebrow before going back to his paperwork. Which, honestly, was more terrifying than if he had said something.
You exhaled, shaking your head, trying to brush it off. “Alright, movie night it is,” you said, forcing a casual tone.
The team was still watching the two of you suspiciously, but after a few moments, they slowly let it go—well, for now.
Under the table, Spencer nudged your foot in silent apology. You sighed, nudging him back.
This was not going to be the last you heard about it.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Focus
It’s hard to please Daddy when it’s finals season and everything feels overwhelming. There were stack of books everywhere, unwashed mugs of coffee piling on your study table, and there seemed to be not enough time to revise for every course. And when Aaron finally had enough of your attitude, he decided to take the matter into his own hands.
Pairing: aaron hotchner x student!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Content: mention of starvation & hair pulling, academic pressure, huge age gap, consenting adults, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex, daddy kink, ddlg dynamic, soft daddy dom!aaron, bratty!reader, powerplay: older man x younger woman relationship.
Note: Read the content warnings and proceed with your own discretion. If it's not your cup of tea, scroll up and have a good day.
The door clicked softly as Aaron stepped into your shared apartment.
The weight of his busy day still clung heavily to his shoulders. It had been one of those days in the office—long hours of reviewing reports, draining meetings with the board; the kind that gnawed at your patience until you only had so little left to give. Some days, he’d prefer to be out on the field so he can freely stretch and move his body. Most days, he doesn’t— simply because he doesn’t want to be away from you.
He kicked off his shoes, heaving a deep sigh of exhaustion as he did so. The usual sense of relief for being home hadn’t yet settled in as he glanced around the dimly lit space, his thick eyebrows pinched together in a confused frown.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Honey? I’m home,” he called out, his voice bouncing off the walls of the small apartment.
Worry trickled down his spine with the unusual sight. He had hoped to come home to something different— a warm meal, maybe, with the sound of your favourite songs blasting in the background. Or better yet, you wrapped in his favourite lingerie; the one that barely covers your pussy and clings to your body in a godly sight, kneeling on the living room floor with a sweet smile, ready to take his cock deep down your throat until he was shaking and begging to finally take your tight cunt.
Just anything– anything to signal that you had taken a break, that you weren’t still buried under the mountain of stress he’d seen building in your eyes over the past few days.
But the apartment was as silent as it had been when he left that morning.
Aaron’s brow furrowed as he made his way down the hallway, the muted light from your own study spilling out into the corridor. He had an idea, a feeling more like, as to what might greet him as soon as he sees you.
Goddamn, this girl.
The door creaked quietly as he pushed it open. And he felt his heart sink as he found you exactly where he had left you that morning— hunched over your desk, the same thick textbook open in front of you, surrounded by the same clutter of mess. The only difference was the growing pile of empty coffee cups at your side.
Had you even moved all day?
“Honey…” he tried again, softer this time, as he leaned against the door frame.
You didn’t respond. Your eyes were locked on the page in front of you, and he could see from the tension in your shoulders that you were anything but focused.
Aaron’s gaze traveled over your form, noticing the same clothes you’d worn earlier, and the half-eaten sandwich he had left on the corner of your desk that morning. His chest tightened, concern quickly overshadowing the fatigue he had brought home with him. He could make out the tension looming over your crouched figure.
“Honey…” his voice came out a whisper, curiously watching you as you murmured the words you were reading in your textbook, memorizing every word earnestly.
Aaron stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the way your hand was gripping your hair, pulling the strands tangled tightly around your fingers. You didn’t even seem to realize you were doing it— too caught up in your own world to understand what you were doing.
“Hey!”
You jumped, your hand releasing your hair so suddenly that you winced as a few strands were pulled free.
“Aaron! Y-you scared me!” your eyes finally lifted to meet his, wide and startled, as if you were seeing him for the first time that day.
He crossed the room in quick strides, worry etched into his features as he reached out to pull your hand gently away from your head. His thumb brushed over the raw area where your hair had been yanked, and he felt a pang of guilt for not noticing sooner.
“Darling, you’re doing it again,” he said quietly, his voice tight with concern. “I thought we talked about this.”
You blinked slowly. “I—I’m sorry. Yeah. I didn’t notice. I didn’t mean to.”
“You’ve been here all day, haven’t you?” he scanned his eyes over the desk for any sign that you had taken a break, had eaten something, anything. The half-eaten sandwich was evidence enough that you hadn’t.
“I was just trying to finish this stupid chapter,” you mumbled, your voice small, almost ashamed. “I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I’ll eat after, I promise.”
Aaron sighed heavily. “You didn’t eat. You didn’t move. You’ve been sitting here, pulling your hair out over these stupid finals all day, and you didn’t even notice?”
Blood rushed through your warm cheeks. And you felt the sudden urge to yell at his face.
Stupid finals?
Stupid?
You looked down at your hands, irritation slowly flooding in as his words sank in. He wasn’t wrong— you’d been so consumed by the pressure to finish everything as quickly and efficiently as you could, to get everything right, that you had lost track of everything else. But stupid… really? What you were doing was far from that word. How insensitive could he be?
You bit your lower lip, trying to control your rising temper.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a heavy heart, feeling the weight of his words like a stone in your chest. “I just wanted to do well. I didn’t mean to…”
Aaron’s expression softened at your words. He’s as frustrated as you were yet he’s concerned more than anything else. He crouched beside you before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly as his warm gaze lingered over your face.
You look tired, he noticed.
“Baby…” his voice was soft it almost made you tear up. “I know you’re stressed, but this isn’t healthy. You know that, right? You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
You nodded slowly. “I know. I just… I don’t want to mess up. I want to make you proud, Daddy...”
“Oh, sweet girl. You already do,” he took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But you’re more important than your grades. Daddy needs you to take care of yourself, sweetheart,” he added, gently rubbing the spot where your hair had been pulled.
“But… I don’t want to slack off...”
Your pout deepened as Aaron frowned down at you.
“You’re the most hard working girl I know in this world, baby,” he said seriously. “What I need you to do is promise me that you’ll take breaks, eat on time, and stop… this…”
Whatever this is, you knew what he wanted to say.
“But—”
“Are you talking back to me?”
Hesitation clung to you with the sudden drop of his voice. The promise felt heavy on your tongue. There’s still a lot to do, deadlines to beat, too much reading to finish, papers to write and revise. You know with the current state of events, you can’t carelessly promise anything to him, but the way Aaron’s eyes squinted at your defiance was enough to make you nod quickly.
“S-sorry, Daddy. I promise.”
Aaron searched your face for a moment longer, then finally relaxed, though the worry didn’t entirely leave his eyes.
“Good. Because if I come home tomorrow and find you in the same spot, I’ll drag you out of here myself and punish you, baby. And no more coffee after 5 p.m.,” he added, eyeing the empty cups with disdain and disapproval.
You managed a small smile, the first genuine lightness you’d felt all day, and nodded again. “Yes, Daddy. No more coffee.”
“There’s my good girl.” Heat dusted over your cheeks as you giggled at his praise, and this time there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stood up, pulling you to your feet with him. “Now, enough of that, come on. We’re ordering takeout, and you’re taking a break. No arguments.”
Panic settled on your heavy bones.
“Huh- what��” you stammered, peering over your books and the half-finished paper on your laptop. “Daddy, I nee– just one more chapter, please. I need– just another paragpra–”
The stern look he gave you made you stop. He didn’t have to say anything. Just seeing the scowl on his face; his thick eyebrows tugged together, his eyes narrowing in silent warning, was enough to put you back in place.
You pursed your lips immediately, and finally let him lead you out of the study, the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease just a little.
That night, Aaron let you use his cock for relief. He’s always been true to his words. He ordered a take out from your favourite Chinese restaurant down the block, ran a bubble bath and joined you shortly to wash your body, massaged your scalp and shoulder, showered you with praises for being his good girl, for being hardworking and smart, and for being the prettiest girl in the world. Then you let Daddy fuck your wet, needy cunt with his thick fingers until you came and writhed against his soft touches.
It was almost midnight when you heard your neighbor pound angrily on the thin wall separating your apartments, screaming in frustration to tone down your fucking. Which you only giggled. Daddy gave you permission to ride his big, fat cock the way you like it. And you did. But it was only after he lapped and ate your pussy like a starved man that he made you cum twice on his tongue, until your legs were spasming uncontrollably from the blinding pleasure.
The next few days were just as rough.
It was an underestimation on some angle, but nothing but the truth as a whole. You and Aaron were arguing nonstop. He was scolding you too much. You cry nearly every night. But he never stopped breathing down your neck: reminding you to take a break, eat the food he ordered for you from his office, drink your vitamins, don’t drink any more coffee, eat the fruits he bought instead of potato chips, rest your eyes, take a bath, take a walk, threatening to punish you if you don’t.
“Are you seriously fucking kidding me?” His voice was flat, his weariness laced with something sharper, though you couldn’t tell if it was frustration or concern. Maybe both. Or maybe he’s seriously just pissed off.
Slowly, with brows pulled in a tight frown, you glanced over your shoulder.
You didn’t hear Aaron walk down the hall, didn’t hear the way his pace slowed just outside the door, or how he lingered there for a moment, leaning against the frame to watch you in annoyance. His frustrated sigh filled the room, deep and full of exhaustion, but that you heard.
Your hand went limp, your fingers still tangled in your hair as you stared back innocently at him.
Aaron stood there, quietly observing you from your seat, still in his work clothes— his tie loosened, shirt untucked from where he’d probably tugged at it during his long day. His expression, however, was fully focused on you, and the hint of gentle smile he usually carried whenever he comes home to you was absent, replaced by a frown etched deep in his rugged features.
“What, Daddy?” you asked in a small voice, as though you hadn’t been doing anything wrong.
You felt the pull of your own hand still gripping your hair. Slowly, you released it, lowering your hand to your lap.
Aaron let out a sigh, running a hand through his own tousled hair before crossing the room to you. “It’s almost eleven,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm.
“Have you been sitting here all day?”
What?
You blinked, looking around for a clock to confirm what he was saying. You barely remember anything that happened. All you can recall was being kissed on your forehead before he head out to work, reminding you to eat the breakfast he prepared for you, and to keep your promise. But now the light outside had faded into complete darkness, the street lights illuminating the crossroads outside, streaks of moonlight painting the night sky.
Almost like an afterthought, your stomach growled faintly. You suddenly realized you hadn’t eaten since… that morning…
Maybe.
“I… I guess so,” you murmured, as if admitting it out loud will make everything worse.
He crossed his arms, thick muscles bulging against the tight fabric of his dress shirt.
“You guess so? Try again, little girl.”
“I—” You wandered your eyes over the pile of untouched notes, the cold cup of coffee still sitting on your desk, and the empty plate from a hastily eaten sandwich. “I… I didn’t, sorry. I didn’t notice the time.”
Your mind was wrapped too tightly around the fact that you still have one more essay to finish before the due date. It was a frustrating day. You caught yourself a lot of times staring mindlessly at the words printed on your book, though they blurred and danced right before your eyes. You stared at the same paragraph for… how long each? Minutes? Hours? You weren’t even sure anymore.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed as he crouched down next to your chair, his gaze level with yours now.
“I told you to eat proper meals, didn’t I?” He pointed out, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed under your eye, and you realized how dry and tired your skin felt. “And you still haven’t eaten, have you?”
You bit your lip and shook your head slightly. “I wasn’t hungry, Daddy. I just wanted to get through this part—”
“No,” Aaron cut you off, shaking his head as he firmly gripped your shoulders, turning your chair so you faced him fully. “No. Enough of this now, little girl. You’ve been doing this to yourself all week. Staying up too late and skipping meals. This is not good for you.”
Your eyes started to burn—not from exhaustion this time, but from something heavier, something you’d been holding in for days now.
“You don’t understand, Daddy. This is important to me!”
The stress, the pressure, the sense of being completely overwhelmed. You felt like you were sinking, and somehow, it all spilled over the moment Aaron looked at you with those tired, worried eyes.
“I just…” Your voice broke, and you looked away, blinking rapidly. “I have to do well, Daddy. I can’t mess this up. I have one semester left until graduation. I can’t– I have to do well.”
Aaron’s expression softened as he listened, and his hands moved to cradle your face, gently turning you back to meet his gaze. “Baby, Daddy knows how important this is to you,” his voice was calm and steady. “But you can’t do well if you’re running yourself into the ground. You’re hurting yourself, and you don’t even realize it. I’m not doing this to sabotage you, honey.”
His thumb brushed over the spot on your scalp where your hair was still tender from your unconscious pulling, and you winced slightly.
“Sorry—” you apologized quickly. “I don’t realize I’m doing it, daddy. I’m sorry.”
His brow furrowed at that, and he lowered his hands, his worry etched into every line of his face. “Just promise me you’ll stop,” he whispered, as if the words themselves could break you. “Or else I’m putting mittens on these little hands of yours.”
You nodded quickly, stifling a giggle. “I promise, daddy. I didn’t even realize I was doing it—”
“I know,” Aaron cut you off gently before you could finish. He stood up then, his hand dropping to yours, tugging you softly up to your feet. “C’mon. You’re done for the night.”
“But—” You glanced back at your desk, at the still-open textbooks, the unread chapters waiting for you. “I’m not done. I have so much left—”
“What do you still need to do?” He asked, following your gaze on your table.
“I’m halfway through this paper and I still have to revise them. Then…” your lower lip prodded a little as you stared up at him. “I need to review for my deptals. I just finished making flashcards on my iPad, Daddy, but I haven’t checked them yet…”
“Then we’ll do that tonight,” he said as he steered you out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen. “First, you need to eat. And then, we’re going to bed.”
“Daddy, I just said I need to revie—”
“Yes, yes, you will, honey.” He squeezed your hand gently as he led you to the kitchen table. “You’re not doing this alone, okay? You’ve got Daddy. I’ll help you tonight. So be a good girl for me and eat first.”
You sat down heavily in the chair as Aaron started pulling out some leftovers from the fridge, reheating them with quick, efficient movements. He didn’t ask you to explain yourself or demand an apology. He just moved around the kitchen with an ease that came from his conscious effort to know you— knowing when to push, and when to just be there quietly.
When he placed the food in front of you, you hesitated for a moment before picking up the fork.
“Daddy…”
He hummed. “Yes, my love?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled between bites. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Aaron pulled up a chair beside you, leaning forward on his elbows as he watched you eat; a small, tired smile playing on his lips. “I know you didn’t, little one. But you did. And I’d rather see you take care of yourself than get another A.”
“You’re just saying that, Daddy. You said I’ll always get a reward if I do well in school. You were bribing me.”
“Maybe…” he grinned, the tiredness in his eyes easing a bit. “But I still mean it.”
As you continued eating, Aaron reached across the table, brushing his fingers against your hand again. “Remember your promise?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll try harder not to do it anymore.”
“Good girl,” he leaned back on his chair with a relieved sigh. “Now, finish your meal. What would you say if Daddy help you study?”
You smiled wider at that, nodding your head quickly. “I’d like that, Daddy.”
“What if you sit on Daddy’s big cock while I ask you your reviewer questions? Would my little girl like that?”
Heat pooled in between your legs as you listened to the vulgarity of his words. He gave you a small smile, reaching his hand to your face before gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear.
“S-sounds good, Daddy,” you said weakly, blushing as you crossed your legs under the table. “D-do I get to come?”
“If you answer the questions correctly, yes you will,” he said lowly, lightly caressing your exposed neck with his thumb.
A low whimper rumbled on your throat.
“But wha– what if I don’t, daddy?”
“Then we’ll just have to see, don’t we, little girl?”
Aaron laid on his back, looking so comfortable and snug as ever, with the soft glow of your iPad casting a faint light in the dimly lit bedroom. The night shirt he previously worn was already discarded on the floor, completely unforgotten. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through the flashcards you’d painstakingly made for your departamental exams, his fingers gently swiping the screen.
“Alright, honey,” Aaron said, his voice low and focused. “Define ‘morphological productivity’ for me.”
You stared up at the ceiling, trying to pull the answer from the jumble of concepts crammed into your brain. A low whine escaped your lips under the intensity of his gaze; exactly just as you felt his thick cock twitch against your walls.
“Daddy… f-feels so good…” you shook your head weakly as the pad of Aaron’s calloused palm traveled your bare thighs.
“I know, honey. But I need you to be a good girl and focus right now.”
Your heart raced, though it wasn’t just from the pressure of not knowing the answer to his question. His presence—so close, so steady—and the familiar heady smell of his bodywash was making it harder to focus. The warmth of his body underneath you, his big cock inside your wet cunt, the way his voice dropped whenever he asked a question, all of it felt heavier, more instense than usual.
“Morphological productivity…” Your mind raced to remember the specifics. “It’s when the… morphology is productive—oh fuck!”
Aaron barked a hearty laughter, sending shivers down your spine with every twitch of his cock inside your hole.
“Just joking, Daddy…” You pouted adorably, slowly grinding your hips to feel more of his girth. “It’s… it’s… t-the guide that control how words are formed and structured in a l-language, r-right?”
“Hmm. I don’t know, baby. Can you give me an example?”
“One e-example is affix… affixation…” You moaned softly, stopping your hips from grinding back and forth as Aaron gripped your thigh in a silent warning. “Sorry, Daddy. F-for instance, you can add ‘-ness’ to the root word ‘happy’ to make ‘happiness’ and it still makes sense.”
Aaron gave a small nod, his lips curving slightly in approval, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Close enough,” he said, his voice steady.
His eyes flicked toward your bare chest before returning to the iPad, and you felt wetness pooling in between your legs intensify.
“Next, baby,” he said, swiping to the next card. “What’s the difference between a free morpheme and a bound morpheme?”
You shifted slightly, pressing both your palm on his stomach, trying to stifle a moan.
“A free morpheme can stand alone as a word,” your voice came out a little softer, distracted by the way his fingers moved so casually across your thighs. “Like ‘book’ or ‘run.’ A bound morpheme can’t… it… it h-has to be attached to something else, like pre… oh, Daddy… pre…fixes or s-suffixes. Like ‘-s’ or ‘-ing.’”
Aaron’s eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His gaze was heavy, like he was weighing more than just your answer, and the quiet that followed hung between you, thick. You could feel the heat of his body underneath you, and his pulsating cock inside.
“C-correct,” he murmured, but his voice had dipped lower.
His fingers lingered over the screen, not moving to the next flashcard right away. The air between you seemed to hum, each small movement or breath amplified in the quiet room.
You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. The weight of his gaze was now making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of your skin together. Studying had always been stressful, but this… this was different. His serious, deliberate tone, the way he was so focused, so intent on helping you, made it all the more difficult to not cave in to your crushing desire.
“Now, this one should be easy. What is a washback?” he asked, his voice still low, though his eyes hadn’t left yours.
You hesitated, distracted by the way his lips formed each word. “It’s also… uh I think it’s also called the washback effect. It is the influence of an assessment on teaching and learning. It can be both beneficial or harmful, and is a common phenomenon in institutional learning.”
“Mm-hm,” Aaron hummed in approval, his eyes darkening slightly as he nodded. “Good girl.”
He didn’t move to the next flashcard right away. Instead, his hand shifted slightly inches slightly to your hips, his thumb rubbing soft circles. It was such a subtle motion, but it sent a shiver down your spine.
“Daddy… please…” You bit your lip, trying to refocus. “Are you… Are you going to ask me the next one?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying your growing distraction.
Aaron’s gaze flicked to your lips for the briefest second before he looked back at the iPad, though the movement wasn’t lost on you. He cleared his throat, as if remembering the task at hand, and swiped to the next card, though his thumb lingered on the screen a little longer than necessary.
“Define… vowel harmony,” he said, his voice slower this time, before gently bucking his hip like his simply adjusting his position.
You whined loudly, the tip of his cock hitting the special spot inside, your mind scrambling to pull the answer from the depths of your memory.
“It’s… uh… Daddy… stop m-moving…” You swallowed, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s when… when… vowels within a word need to m-match in some way. Just… just l-like in certain languages, all the vowels in a word have to be either front or back vowels.”
Aaron nodded, his lips curving just slightly in a faint, knowing smile. “Very good.”
His hand shifted again, this time closer, brushing down your inner thigh, right where your bodies meet. The heat from his touch seeped through every fiber of your being, flooding your senses with heat and desire. And lust. Overflowing heat and lust.
Your breathing quickened, your mind no longer on linguistic theories or exam questions.
“Do you want to keep going?” Aaron asked, though his voice had lost the strict, studious edge it had earlier. His hand still rested on your inner thigh, his fingers ghosting against your throbbing clit, as if waiting for your answer to decide where they might go next.
“D-daddy…” you said in a whisper, slowly grinding your hips again. “N-need you… plea…please… daddy…”
Aaron didn’t move for a moment. He kept watching your desperate movements with that same heavy gaze, his fingers slowly teasing their way to your needy cunt, sending another shiver through your body.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he set the iPad aside, his hand resting fully on your hip now.
“My little girl’s been studying hard…” his voice was low and rough, the pad of his big, calloused hands against your skin. “And you’ve got all these answers down.”
You let out a shaky breath, your body instinctively leaning into his touch. The anticipation was almost suffocating in the best way, choking you. He started to rock his hip slowly, the trail of hair from his cock grinding against your clit in a heady way.
“F-fuck…” your voice trembled as you impatiently increased your pace. “Y-yes, D-daddy… please...”
He sat up to lean towards you, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “Baby, you’ve earned a break,” the words filled with a promise that made your pulse quicken. “I’ll fuck you nice and good, hmm?”
As Aaron’s lips brushed ever so lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck, your world crumbled and you couldn’t focus on anything else.
His lips trailed down your exposed neck, his nose pressed against your skin, taking in your scent as he left a soft trail of light kisses. A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you felt his hands tighten around your waist, guiding you in back-and-forth motion. The way his big and girthy cock was stretching your leaking cunt was intoxicating. You whimpered in embarrassment, hiding your flushed cheeks at the crook of his neck as you felt the tip of his cock deep into your belly.
“D-daddy… can you move, please?” you whispered in a weak voice.
“You want Daddy’s cum inside you, sweet girl?”
You nodded, feeling Aaron move gently to fix his position. “I d-do, Daddy… s-so much… please...”
“Then you’ll get it, princess.”
With a yelp, Aaron’s girthy cock rammed in and out of your waiting cunt. The shrill sound that escaped your lips made Aaron smirk in satisfaction. This is where you belong; in his arms, perched on his lap with your warm, velvety walls wrapped tightly on his cock, his name leaving your lips like a desperate prayer.
Deep grunts and small whimpers tangled in the air like harmony. Your voice was raw, and your throat dries as he assaulted your greedy, little cunt with deep thrusts. His breathing was ragged and heavy.
“Da…Daddy…” Your fingers tightened on his hair, pulling a little with every plop of your sweaty skin. “C-close, ‘m close… Daddy…”
Aaron let out an amused laugh. “No, not yet. Wait a l-little more, you can do that f-for Daddy, princess?”
You whined.
“N-no… I-I want… Daddy… come, p-please… Want to c-come…”
A sharp slap on the side of your thigh stilled you.
“Who fucking own you, little girl?”
“Y-you... Daddy…”
“And who fucking own this greedy cunt, huh? Who get to say when you’re allowed to fucking come?”
A particular thrust set your nerves on fire. “Y-you, Daddy! Only y-you… fuck… that feels g-good! There- t-there! R-right there! H-harder, Daddy! Fuck– f-fuck me!”
“There’s my good girl.”
You felt the familiar coil twisting in your belly. The squelching sound of your wet hole being pounded hard and fast was dirty and somehow humiliating. He kept hammering his hips into you, the tip of his throbbing cock nudging the most sensitive spots deep inside your body. Parts you never knew existed until you met Aaron. He has always loved you hard and always fucked you even harder. Like you’re nothing but a fleshlight. A toy. A fuckdoll he could use just the way he wants it.
“Y-yes! Yes! D-daddy! Right-r-right there! F-fuck!” Your release inched closer, roused by his pained grunts and heavy breathing. “Please! P-please! Please, Daddy! Come in-inside me! Breed m-me… please! I’m a g-good girl, r-right? Fuck m-me full of c-cum, please! W-want it s-so bad— want y-you so bad!”
“Come, princess. Go on. Let go.”
Your orgasm ripped through you like an avalanche. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head. Aaron’s loud grunt and your whiny moan pierced the silence of the night, his fat cock spurting ropes and ropes of warm cum into your waiting womb. Shivers ran down your spine, your bones weak, legs trembling.
“That’s it... good girl... my sweet girl...” Aaron murmured against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “Just take it, princess. Daddy loves you.”
A loud pounding on the wall startled your calming heart. It even made Aaron jump a little. Seconds ticked in and the familiar voice of your angry neighbor echoed inside your sweaty, sex-filled room.
“Stop fucking in the middle of the night, for fuck’s sake! Some people have fucking exams tomorrow unlike you fucking horny crackheads! Fuck!”
You could only giggle in exhaustion.
Guess who’s back, bitches! (affectionately) Please give me some love and appreciation in the form of your thoughts or reactions. Also, don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!
Tag list: @downbad4reid ,@roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl, @zaddyhotch, @fandom-garbage, @obsessed-oops, @ujws5, @babybluelrh98, @anime-lover-forever-1127, @hazel-babbit, @3amcloudss, @seraphinlover
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds smut#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x female!reader#aaron hotchner x you#daddy!aaron
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messages from your future spouse
Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗
Masterlist \pick a cards
Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️
Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ? Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸
Pile 1
Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful .
Some people don't change no matter how hard you try.
But we can not simply sit and stare at our wonds forever .
You spread joy because you're joy that's what I admire most about you .
First love teaches us what love isn't .
It's better to feel the hurt of honesty then to live in a false comfort of lie .
The secret of life is to be obsessed with yourself and be kind to everyone around you.
Some days are just heavy .
Everything you lost will be replaced with something better.
Imagine being loved the way you love .
Pile 2
You haven't met the best version of yourself yet don't give up
when you choose yourself everything around you will choose you too
remember you can start again over and over as often as you need
people don't cry because they're weak it's because they've been strong for too long
the little things ? little moments ? they aren't little
perhaps we should learn to love ourselves so loudly , it silences our insecurities
I love seeing you happy
it happened so that you could grow
you will forever be my always
do it for your future self
Pile 3
You can't go back and change the beginning but you can start where you're and change the ending
expect nothing appreciate everything
you can also comit injustice by doing nothing
be patient. Sometimes you've to go through the worst to get best
how many time can the same thing break your heart ? As long as you love it
find joy in simple things life will always be fulfilling
In the end, I realized the hurt never turned to hate. No matter how much my emotions led me to feel so. I never stopped loving people. I stopped trusting them.
The art of observing and not absorbing
Not liking me is fine, but making up lies to destroy my character is weird.
Keep it private until you know it's permanent
Imagine being loved the way you love .
Pile 4
First love teaches us what love isn't .
Discipline is the strongest form of self love .
She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind
people talk about me behind my back and i just sit here like damn i got myself a fan club
It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations .
Forgive yourself for the mask you wore when you didn't feel safe enough to be yourself
YOU DON'T NEED EVERYONE TO love you, JUST A FEW GOOD PEOPLE
may every hour in your soul be golden, may it be filled with endless magic .
Vibes to carry through out the week
You're not sensitive. You're not overreacting. If it hurts you, it hurts you. Don't let anyone invalidate your feelings. Ever
I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻
Loads of love , jam\gem
Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open
#jamreadstarot#pick a photo#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick an image#horoscope#vedic astrology#astro community#astro notes#astro observations#astro placements#astrology#future spouse#intuitive readings#moodboard#numerology#matrix of destiny#psychicreading#oracle cards#sprituality#future spouse reading#valentines day#desiblr#divination#divine feminine#tarot deck#free tarot#tarot reading#witchblr
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𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
➵ ℳ𝓔𝓝𝓤
- DAY 1 💌 , bf!shadow, hurt/comfort, if u saw me post this already no u didn’t 🤫
the apartment was quiet, you and Shadow sat across from each other on the bed legs loosely folded, a comfortable distance between you. the dim lighting cast a soft glow over his dark fur, highlighting the sharp edges of his features
but tonight, it was different
you had noticed it before how sometimes, no matter how close you were Shadow seemed miles away. and it had been happening more often lately.
the silence stretched on between you and Shadow, heavier than before. there were moments when he still slipped away, moments when his thoughts pulled him somewhere you couldn’t follow.
and it hurt.
it wasn’t something you wanted to admit, even to yourself. you knew Shadow wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate and you had never expected him to be. but when he pulled away, when his eyes drifted past you like he wasn’t really there it made you wonder if you were fooling yourself. If what you had with him was real
or if he was just holding on out of convenience
you sat on the bed knees pulled up to your chest, watching him as he stared out the window. his posture was tense, his mind clearly somewhere else. the city lights reflected in his eyes but you could tell he wasn’t seeing any of it
Shadow had always been distant. you knew that from the start. but knowing it and feeling it were two very different things
Shadow was beside you close enough that you could feel his presence but not close enough to feel him. not in the way you wanted
you had always been there for him. when he became lost in his head, you stayed. when his nightmares woke him in the middle of the night, you never asked questions you just reached for him letting him know you were there for him. when he disappeared for hours, sometimes days, you never demanded explanations. you simply waited.
but how long could you keep waiting?
“You’re thinking too much again” Shadow said his voice pulling you from your thoughts
you glanced at him. he was looking at you now but not in the way you wanted. he could always tell when something was on your mind but he never reached for you first.
you swallowed your fingers gripping the blanket. “Do you even care about me Shadow?”
the words felt heavier the moment they left your mouth. Shadow stiffened his red eyes narrowing slightly not in anger but in confusion
“Why would you ask that?” he said
you exhaled, shaking your head. “Because you never show it” you admitted your voice quieter now. “I’m always here for you. Always. And I don’t expect you to change who you are but… sometimes I wonder if this even means anything to you. If I mean anything to you.”
Shadow was silent. as if he was processing your words but the longer the silence stretched the more that ache in your chest deepened
his jaw tightened and for a second, you thought he might look away.
Shadow exhaled sharply his hand running over his quills. he looked at you for a long moment. slowly hesitantly he reached out
Shadow’s fingers curled over yours
and it broke you.
you had wanted this for so long. to feel him reach for you, even in the smallest of ways. to know that he cared, but now that it was happening, all it did was make your chest ache.
because it took this. It took you questioning everything, it took you feeling empty, for him to finally respond.
a quiet, shaky breath escaped you, and before you could stop it, tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision as your fingers twitched beneath his
Shadow’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Why are you crying?” his voice wasn’t stern or harsh, no, it was soft
you tried to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t know” you whispered, though you did. you knew exactly why.
Shadow frowned, his grip on your hand tightening slightly not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. “You do.”
you let out a quiet, humorless laugh, blinking back the tears even as they slipped down your cheeks. “Because it shouldn’t have taken this for you to show that you care.”
Shadow stiffened and for once, he had nothing to say
you shook your head, your voice breaking as you continued. “I’ve been here this whole time Shadow. Always waiting. Always hoping. And you never…” Your breath hitched, the ache in your chest spreading. “It feels like you never needed me the way I needed you.”
his grip on your hand loosened. his ears flicked back, his face unreadable. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” you asked, wiping at your eyes though the tears wouldn’t stop. “I feel like I’m always the one reaching out. Always the one holding on. And I kept telling myself it was enough just to be near you but it’s not. I’m not.”
the words came tumbling out before you could stop them, years worth of silence unraveling at once. Shadow didn’t move, didn’t speak, and that only made it worse.
a sharp breath left Shadow’s lips, his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you again, but something stopped him. his own hesitation. his own walls.
you gently pulled your hand from his grasp and this time, he let you. “I just… need some time” you whispered
Shadow’s expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes something like regret. he nodded slowly, as if understanding that for once this was something he couldn’t fix with silence.
and as you turned away, curling into yourself on the bed you wondered if you had finally reached the point where trying just wasn’t enough anymore.
you lay there curled into yourself, staring at the wall, the weight of everything of your love, your longing, your loneliness weigh heavy on your chest. you had always told yourself you could handle it, that just being with Shadow was enough.
you weren’t sure how much time passed before you felt the bed shift behind you. a familiar warmth pressed close, hesitant at first, before strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him.
you sucked in a sharp breath as Shadow buried his face against the back of your neck, his grip tightening around your waist as if afraid you would slip through his fingers. his quills brushed against your skin ticklish but comforting
then barely above a whisper so soft you almost didn’t catch it came his voice.
“…I’m sorry.”
you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath shuddering as his words ghosted over your skin. Shadow was not someone who apologized easily. but here he was wrapped around you holding you like he was afraid of losing you
“I’m sorry” he murmured again, “For making you feel like this.”
your body trembling slightly against his. his grip only tightened in response.
then, warm lips pressed against your shoulder. a soft kiss . then another. and another.
each one felt like an apology, a silent plea for you to stay to understand.
Shadow wasn’t good with words, but this was something he could give. his touch, his presence, his warmth.
“I do need you” he whispered against your skin, his lips trailing up to the back of your neck. “I don’t always know how to show it, but I do.”
your chest ached, your hands gripping his arms where they circled you
you turned slightly in his arms, just enough to meet his face. his crimson eyes were softer now
he didn’t speak. he just leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in
you swallowed hard, your hands resting lightly over his as he held you.
Shadow exhaled, his grip on you tightening. “you’re always there for me” he murmured against your hair. “now let me be here for you”
your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. his eyes met yours
“I know I don’t always show it the way you need me to” he admitted his voice lower now, rough. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” His hand lifted to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “I do.”
your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. leaning into his touch.
Shadow held your gaze for a moment, then slowly pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. his other hand found yours, fingers lacing between yours.
“I don’t know how to be the kind of person who says things outright” he continued, “But I want you and choose you, Every time.” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his crimson eyes steady. “And that’s never going to change.”
you let out a shaky breath, nodding as you squeezed his hand in reassurance
Shadow studied you for a moment longer before leaning in, pressing a slow, kiss against your lips no urgency, no hesitation, just certainty.
when he pulled away he tucked you back into his arms, holding you close. “I love you” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Always.”
day 2 comes out this tuesday! 💌
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦゚ᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི
#౨ৎ#shadow the hedgehog#—⋆˚࿔ bf!shadow#imagine#oneshot#fanfic#need him#who said that#shadow oneshot#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#shadow imagine#shadow fanfic#sonic fanfiction#sonic movie#sonic#sonic movie 3#sonic fanart#sonic fandom#sonadow#sonic the hedgehog#sonic 3#sth#bf!shadow
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best lover —
pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader
summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.
warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic
a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.
queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean
[requested]
— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —
you’ve always known taesan was cool.
not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.
his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.
you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.
so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.
but what do you get someone like taesan?
he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.
so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.
you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.
and then it hits you.
vinyls.
taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.
but you don’t know enough about it.
you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.
so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.
sungho.
—
you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?
he replies almost immediately.
sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?
you snort. typical.
you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.
a pause. then—
sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?
relief washes over you.
you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.
sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.
you smile, pocketing your phone.
this is a good plan. a perfect plan.
now, you just have to keep it a secret.
the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.
taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.
“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.
he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”
that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”
you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”
his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.
“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.
your heart squeezes at that.
you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”
—
meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.
he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.
“you look nervous,” he says, amused.
“because i am.”
he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”
“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”
sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.
the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.
rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.
sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”
you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”
“then we start with the basics.”
he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.
“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”
it was the black parade by my chemical romance
you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”
sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”
you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.
this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.
you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”
he smirks. “told you.”
you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.
this is going to be perfect.
if you can keep it a secret long enough.
you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.
sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.
“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.
he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”
you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”
he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”
that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.
you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco
you hesitate. “what about this one?”
sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”
you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”
sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”
you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”
“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”
“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”
he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”
you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.
but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.
you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.
you wish he was here.
you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.
“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”
sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.
“this.”
you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.
“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”
your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”
sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”
you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”
“anytime.”
you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.
when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.
“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”
you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”
he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”
“excuse me?”
“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”
you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”
“i mean, that would be funny.”
“sungho.”
he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”
you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.
“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”
sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”
you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”
his grin is downright evil. “try me.”
you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.
but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.
you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.
you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.
sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"
"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."
sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."
you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.
after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.
you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.
taesan: where are you?
you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.
“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.
“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"
you: just out. why?
you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.
taesan: are you by yourself?
your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.
“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”
you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.
you: yeah, just me. out by myself.
you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.
as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.
taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.
your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.
“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.
“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”
sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”
you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”
sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”
you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”
you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.
taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?
your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.
sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”
you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”
“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”
you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”
“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”
but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.
you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.
you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee
you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.
it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.
taesan: it was a coincidence?
you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.
you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too
you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.
taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.
your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.
“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.
“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”
you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.
you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.
but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.
“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”
you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”
taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.
“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”
you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”
taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”
the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”
you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.
“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.
taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”
your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”
“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”
you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.
“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”
taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.
“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”
you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”
taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.
“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”
taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”
there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.
“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”
“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.
“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.
you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.
“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”
you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.
“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.
you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.
“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”
he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”
you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.
“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”
you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.
there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.
“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”
taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”
you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”
taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”
“promise,” you say quietly.
and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.
but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.
taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.
you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.
“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.
you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”
he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.
“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”
“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”
taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”
“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.
he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.
you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.
“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”
you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”
he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.
his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”
“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”
sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”
“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”
you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”
taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.
“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”
you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”
taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”
you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”
his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”
he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.
and just like that, everything feels right again.
#kaiyunsim#kpop x reader#kpop x gn reader#kpop x gender neutral reader#boynextdoor#boynextdoor x reader#bnd#bnd x reader#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor angst#bnd fluff#bnd angst#taesan#han taesan#han dongmin#taesan x reader#han taesan x reader#taesan x gn reader#han taesan x gn reader#han dongmin x reader#taesan fluff#taesan angst#han dongmin fluff#han dongmin angst
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Here We’re In Love (Apricity)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Summary: Spencer teaches you why he's become so fond of your mornings together. Category: Fluff (who am I) Content: Domestic fluff, a light dusting of erotic tension but nothing explicit, the first "I love you", happy tears Word Count: 1.2k
MASTERLIST
(AKA Mercy learned a new word and got The Feels, so she had to plug it into a fic. Obviously.)
----------------------------
There was once a time in Spencer's life when being in bed didn't generate a strong feeling of any kind. It was simply a task needed to end the day and transition into another, a means to an end, and least of all a luxury; Even when he was a child, responsibility outranked reveling in the comfort of a warm bed.
These days, though, it seems like all he wants to do is be in bed. Not because he feels depressed or exhausted in any extreme, but it's hard for him not to ache for an entire day spent solely enveloped in the warm embrace of linen, made even warmer by your presence. Since you've been with him, it brings something so normal and safe amongst the chaos of his daily life—not just in bed of course, but especially in bed. Especially in the mornings. It has quickly become his favorite part of the day, and he finds himself never wanting it to end.
His eyes open to find you already awake before sunrise, staring at him like he always gets caught staring at you. You try to remain still and calm, but the minute cinch in your expression tells him that you're probably chanting Ha-Ha! Got you! on repeat in your head, and the thought makes him huff a laugh.
"What's so funny?" you ask seriously.
Spencer's smile remains as he shifts, close enough to touch his forehead to your own. "Absolutely nothing."
"You've always been a terrible liar."
"I don't know what you mean."
The giggles between the two of you steadily increase with every sentence, until your laughs turn into lazy kisses and then to sighs.
Sunlight eventually breaches the shades, signaling a different type of warmth and the start of a new day, and Spencer selfishly begs it not to be so, his hands reaching for you as you try to escape the bed.
"Stay," he groans, successfully keeping you next to him. "You don't have anywhere to be today, and neither do I..."
Bringing one of his hands to your lips, you laugh. "I know... But I don't want to spend all day in bed..."
"Then we won't... Just a few more hours?"
Your laugh this time is a full-blown cackle. The sound makes his heart soar. "Hours?"
"Yes, hours... This is the most comfortable place in the whole world. Don't you think that deserves hours of your time?"
"I suppose..." Snuggling back into the covers and adoringly rolling your eyes as your head hits the pillow once more, you've finally succumbed to your boyfriend's charms, a feat that feeds his silly pride and also warms him to the core.
You tell him you won't fall asleep and demand him to follow suit, to which he happily agrees, and then you're talking him through your plans for the day. Your voice is just as strong of a comfort as your touch, every syllable bright and soft, and certainly more pleasant than the incessant chirping of birds that some people seem to find soothing first thing in the morning for one reason or another.
As you talk to him, Spencer feels like he's sinking further into the mattress, like your voice and your smile and your fingers absentmindedly trailing the veins of his arms as you speak are casting him into an inescapable state of magnificent solitude.
He'd begged you for hours, but the unexaggerated truth is that he could stay like this forever.
Sensing the trance you seem to have put him under, you pause and tilt your head to study him. Still, your fingers stay true to their wanderlust and dance along the surface of his skin like it's second nature.
"You're looking at me funny."
"Hmm?"
Even as he raises an eyebrow, acknowledging you acknowledging him, it's like he can't be bothered to care. The dreamy haze in his eyes as it bores into you is a comfort in itself, but it's also very... tingle-inducing.
A familiar blaze heats your insides and every surface of your skin, and even without so much as a suggestive hum from him, you still find yourself shying away. "Stop it!"
You half-expect him to argue that he's not doing anything wrong in that cheeky way of his, but he remains silent and thoughtful, studying you carefully.
"Are you familiar with the concept of 'apricity'?"
Usually when he teaches you new things, he isn't staring at you like that. His voice isn't quiet and wistful and teetering on the edge of melancholy.
Unsure of what to make of it all, you shake your head. "No..."
"The word itself comes from the early 1600s. It's archaic, but the feeling is quite beautiful, and relevant to many people whether they know it or not. Apricity defines the feeling of the sun's natural warmth in the cold, usually harsh, winter."
You consider this, and try the word on your tongue, repeating it slowly and nodding. A small smile forms on your lips. "I like it. I guess it's nice to know that oddly-specific feeling has a name..."
Spencer hums and grabs your hand. "You have no idea..."
You laugh softly again. "No, I don't... Enlighten me?"
He considers this for a moment, then smiles, pulling you close to him. "That's just it— You enlighten my very existence. Just by being here in this bed with me."
As he attacks your neck with kisses, you can't help the string of laughter that escapes you. "Oh really?"
"Absolutely." The word is a confident rumble into your skin that soaks through, straight from his lips and down into to the depths of your soul and beyond. It erases any doubt you've ever harbored, lifts you into the light, and manifests as its own form of sunshine, settled right in the nooks and crannies of your heart.
Spencer pulls away briefly to look at you, taking your head in his gentle hands. His voice is soft, but firm.
"I guess what I mean is that... My life can be really dark and frigid a lot of the time... But ever since I've known you, it's like those moments aren't really so terrible anymore, because I know what true, natural love feels like. When I'm here, with you, I truly believe that nothing can hurt me. All I feel is warmth. Your warmth... You're my apricity."
An involuntary pout accompanies your wide, watering eyes as you lean into his touch, a tightness at your throat even as you try to tell him the easiest thing in the world.
"I love you," you manage to get out through a sob. It sounds utterly lame in comparison to the poetic metaphor he's just confessed to you, but given the fact that it's the first time the words have left your mouth, they seem to have the same effect on him regardless.
Spencer matches your pout and the two of you are drawn together like a summer thunderstorm— boldly, brightly, and full of life. The tears fall between you in a heap of pouring rain, but there's nothing gloomy in the love that carries you through it.
"I love you, too," he whispers, pulling away for a moment.
You kiss him again, then tell him, "I never want to leave this bed."
He kisses you and laughs, wiping away your tears as you both fall back, head to the pillows once more.
"I'm not going to fight you on that one."
You say it's fine if it's all in my mind Oh, you look so real but it feels like a lie, so
Don't pinch me in case I'm asleep In case you're not here 'cause this is a dream And we've never met so we're not in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the–
Don't touch me, this coma is nice Too good to be true, so just let me lie Down in the sheets, 'cause here we're in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the-
Plug Oh-oh-oh
--Pull The Plug, Ashe
#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader fanfic#Spotify
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Three Peaks - George Clarke
Warnings: none, some swearing
Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!
———
"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.
"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.
Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.
I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.
"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.
Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.
"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.
"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.
"What?" I asked in confusion.
"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.
"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."
Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.
"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.
"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.
"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.
We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.
"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.
"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.
We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.
I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.
We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.
"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.
"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.
We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.
I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.
During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.
"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.
Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.
It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.
A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.
"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.
"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.
"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.
He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.
I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.
"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.
"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.
He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.
In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.
I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.
"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.
We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.
"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.
He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.
"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.
I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.
He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.
“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.
“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.
“I’ll do my best.”
We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.
“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.
“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.
“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.
“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.
“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.
I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.
#imagine#chrismd#george clarke#george clarkeey#george clarkey#george clarke fics#george clarke fluff#arthur hill#arthurtv
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Ran x sevika x reader
Ran is just a good boy and listens to your every word, and Sevika is a bit more dominant. But you and Ran were having fun and sevika comes home and just i don’t know watches and then joins in. It’s totally all love no matter who the other is with
𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓
────୨ৎ────
𝗿𝗮𝗻 𝘅 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
a-n; ran is a he/him lesbian because i said so, let's go on.
Ran and you got home earlier than Sevika, having a considerable less amount of work than her. You were sitting on Ran's lap, his hands on your waist, rubbing the supple skin gently. The couch was scattered with pillows and blankets similar to the black lipstick kiss marks on your neck.
Ran paid attention to how your eyelashes fluttered, a direct result from the joint in your hand. His eyes were heavily lidded, thoughts running at a hundred miles per hour. She listened to how you rambled, slurring your words. "I miss Sevika," You drawled out the syllables, a small pout on your lips.
Ran nodded, his eyes shutting slowly. You huffed, slightly bouncing on his lap to awaken him. "Stop falling asleep—" You complained, hands tugging gently at his hair. Ran chuckled, holding your closer, "Yeah, Sevika's coming home soon, baby." Your eyes lit up at his words.
"Seriously? Then we really have to stay awake.." You stated, huffing and pressing your chest against his. The only sound for a moment was the ticking of a clock and the raindrops outside the apartment till the front door creaked open. You sat up like an excited puppy, your red eyes darting to the hallway.
You scrambled off of Ran's lap, "Roll another joint for Sevika, she's gonna be stressed," You rushed out your words till scurrying down the hallway and towards the front door. Ran got to doing what you asked of him nearly immediately, hands fidgeting with rolling paper.
You met Sevika at the door, jumping onto her for an embrace as her arms quickly snaked around your waist to hoist you up. You giggled, obviously high enough to see the moon. "Been waiting for you allllll day." You said with a petulant grin.
"Sure you have, has Ran been good with you?" Sevika asked, knowing the answer. Her fingertips twisted a strand of your hair while staring into your puffy eyes. You nod thoughtlessly, hands coming to tug at Sevika's coat. You hung it up on the coat rack, "Ran always so sweet to me," You say, a small smile on your lips.
Sevika coughed, clearing her through to cover the noise of her steps coming behind you and throwing you over her shoulder. She pats your ass swiftly before walking to the living room, your yelping making Ran look up. Sevika begins to stare at him with one of his legs bent towards his chest, fiddling with the joint between his middle finger and thumb.
"Mm, 'Vika?" Ran murmured, taking in the shit-eating grin on her face before body slamming you onto the couch besides Ran. It didn't hurt, the pillows acted as a mat beneath you but you still grunted softly simply to complain. "Sevika!" You whined out loud, tugging on her hair just for her to secure your wrist together.
She lets you fight against her playfully, keeping eye contact with Ran while ignoring you. "Must be annoying to deal with a high princess, huh?" Ran quickly shakes his head, eyes looking at Sevika and you like a deer stuck in headlights. His lipstick was smudged at the corner of his lips and Sevika connected the dots, noticing the lipstick on your neck.
"Oh, guess not, been having fun without me?" Sevika asks rhetorically, kissing Ran's forehead while still keeping you bound. "I haven't gotten a forehead kiss!" You yelled like a spoiled little girl, eyebrows knitted together. Sevika cocked a brow at you, lips centimeters away from your forehead. "Maybe bratty little girls don't deserve forehead kisses, ever thought about that?" She teases.
You press your head forward, making her lips land on your forehead. She lets you go, watching you crawl back into Ran's lap and he quickly secures you against him. "You roll this for me, baby?" Sevika asks towards Ran, putting an arm over his shoulder. He nods, "Her idea," he spoke in reference to you.
"Yeah? Was the princess thinking about me?" She places a large hand on your head, ruffling your hair, making your eyes squint and lips go upturned. "Yeah, yeah! Was thinking about you, 'Vika!" You exclaimed, ass slightly bouncing on Ran to grab Sevika's attention. "Fuck, c'mere."
You giggle, rapidly moving to Sevika's lap. Ran seemed slightly excluded, vision narrowed as he watched you and Sevika be affectionate. He didn't want to interfere, you two hardly got along because of how bratty you could be towards her. He knew how much it meant to you, but he wanted to join in. (:c)
Your head lifted from Sevika's chest, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Ran. You bring him and the lit joint towards you, "Shotgun?" You whispered and he nearly instantly agreed. His lips circled and attached to the joint, inhaling it and then pressing his lips against yours, more lipstick smudging onto you.
He blew the smoke right into your mouth, letting the smoke leave by your nostrils as you kept kissing. His hand cradled your face, fingertips at your nape. "Gonna leave me out now?" Sevika taunted with a faux frown.
You shook your head, pulling away from Ran and handing the joint to Sevika. She groaned as she took a drag from it, head thrown back. "Fuck, been so damned stressed with work, gonna kill Silco." You whined, squirming on her lap. "What's wrong, princess?" She said with one brow lifted.
"We could help with the.. easy things!" You exclaimed, averting your gaze back and fourth to Ran and Sevika. Ran nodded, his head rested on Sevika's shoulder. "Yeah? Good," She whispered, holding both of you closer.
should i make a longer version of this
#sevika x reader smut#sevika fanfic#sevika x you#sevika imagine#sevika x ambessa#sevika x reader#smut sevika#arcane sevika#sevika arcane#sevika#sevika x reader fluff#ran arcane#arcane wlw#arcane#arcane smut#sevika drabble fluff#drabbles sevika#drabble#arcane sevika smut#fluff sevika#sevika fluff#drabble sevika#sevika drabbles smut#sevika drabbles#sevika drabble#sevika x you oneshot#sevika x you fluff#sevika x you smut#sevika oneshot#sevika oneshot smut
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Oh no a post about Remus Chronic illness my utter kryptonite It's worth taking into account that his Lycanthropy causes chronic illness symptoms - but they do not last all month, no. (I try to go through it a lot here lol - my imperfect canon scouring)
He always looks ill - though that doesn't mean he feels ill. As you pointed out, in PoA he is generally an energetic, fun person - bubbly when he is feeling safe, quick-witted when pressed, etc.
He might have been wearing masks, lying to everyone all year to leave a certain impression of being a popular guy that's more put-together than he actually is (being a show off to the kids - but getting facts wrong in his classwork) - but I also think that's similar to who he is when he is happy. He liked being at Hogwarts.
Before the Full Moon he looks more sickly than usual, enough for Harry to notice at a glance when off Wolfsbane - but he could still study for and do exams. He 'feels off colour' but can still chat to people when on Wolfsbane.
So before the full moon, for a couple of days at least, he isn't too bad - just a little under-the-weather.
After the Full Moon He is pallid and his voice might be hoarse. If we guess he was recovering on the train from a Full Moon - he sleeps for 8 hours, looking so bad 'one hex could finish him off' With Wolfsbane: he cannot go to a small Christmas lunch. He looses a noticeable amount of weight very quickly. Judging by days stated in the books, he takes at least 2 days off work to recover. That recovery period would be longer without Wolfsbane.
So he spends about 10% of each month too sick to work, and likely a bit more than that noticeably under-the-weather - say 20%.
That could reflect in his work as a teacher, too - beyond it simply being his first year. He is disorganized and behind schedule. He puts his effort into making things engaging for the students at the cost of being the most informative, which would make sense if he can't work properly for up to 20% of the time.
But 80% of the time he is alright. He isn't constantly suffering or in pain. Pain doesn't even seem to be a particular symptom. He has a few days a month of being wasted, a few more days of being a little unwell - but he is absolutely quite perky, when life is good.
Enough of constantly in pain Remus (this is about him in Canon not a comment about personal HCs). When we meet him hes jumping around and giggling for most of the book. He's friendly and funny and a trickster. He is tired after his transformations, which also cause him to lose weight and to look sickly. Between them he looks healthy and is able to teach like 28 classes a week no problem. Before poa he had it harder than other people to get a job bc he's a werewolf, but it wasn't impossible, and there is no reason to think James didn't leave him an inheritance.
He becomes the tired and stressed out man in ootp. When it's impossible to get work as a werewolf even with a full hogwarts education and all the connections that he has. Should James have left him any money it's not unreasonable to think it ran short after 14 years, and the upkeep of his welsh home would then also prove harder - a reason why he'd move in with Sirius.
I mean, the sad and broken man of ootp and hbp is not the man we meet in poa, nothing close to it! He is reckless and charming and brash, he sets up obstacle courses for his exams which he has to reset for each of his students and be ready to rescue them from. The anti werewolf laws set up in ootp really really hurt him, and we see that in the books. This isn't his normal state
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when you’re sick ;
blue lock x gn!reader
isagi yoichi
-> the unlikely return of momsagi????
-> he doesn’t even really have to say anything. he just hangs out with you, subtly checking your temperature when he thinks you’re sleeping, and making sure you have enough blankets and water
-> you are suspicious. “how did you learn to be so… caring?” “?! i’m always caring!” “you laughed when i fell down the stairs.” “cause it was funny! who falls down the stairs anymore, y/n? be honest.” “😐”
-> despite that, he does take good care of you. if you ask him for something, he doesn’t argue or tease you. isagi will simply kiss your forehead and get whatever it is you need
itoshi rin
-> rin doesn’t miss practice. not even when he broke three fingers on his left hand. so for him to call off when you tell him you aren’t feeling well, you panic a bit
-> you had the flu, and while it was annoying, you’d live. rin’s sudden presence made you think otherwise
-> “i’m dying.” you’d announce as rin feeds you soup, and he’d raise a brow at you. “you’re not dying.” “you wanted to spend my last moments together. i’m dying.”
-> eventually he convinced you that you’re not dying and that practice was going to get canceled anyway due to half the players getting the flu as well
barou shouei
-> ocd clean freak maid barou is struggling
-> you have a common cold, nothing too bad, and are still able to be a functioning member of society (at least you think so)
-> when barou heard that first sniffle from you, you were placed on house arrest and locked in your room so he could disinfect them entire house
-> after a few hours, you got bored and went downstairs to get some water. when barou spots you by the fridge, he freaks
-> “y/n?! what are you doing out of the infectious zone!!” “i’m thirsty..?” “go back upstairs! i’ll leave water outside the door for you.” “…”
-> you know he means well, so you don’t argue as you trudge back into solitary confinement
mikage reo
-> he goes all out
-> you’re sick?? nope. reo is with you all the time, asking what you need, getting whatever that is, and even offers to call an in-house doctor for you when you don’t instantly get better
-> “reo, it’s just a cold. i’ll be better tomorrow.” “but that’s so far away :( what do you need? i’ll get it for you!“
-> he surrounds you with plushies and puts on your favorite tv shows and makes sure you never have to lift a finger until you’re all better
nagi seishiro
-> he becomes your shadow
-> when you tell him you’re sick and want to lay in bed all day, he simply nods and slips into bed with you
-> “you’re gonna get sick,” you tell him as he buries his face into the back of your neck. “hmm you can take care of me next, then.”
-> nagi just hangs out with you until you’re feeling better. he lets you watch as he plays games and will bring you delivered food since neither of you would survive his cooking
-> he does get sick, and you do end up taking care of him
michael kaiser
-> he gets worried whenever you aren’t being your normal self, and the flu sucked all the energy out of you
-> kaiser doesn’t want to bother you or risk annoying you while you’re sick, so he kind of sulks around and pokes his head into your room every now and again to ask if you need anything
-> you find his behavior cute and a little pathetic, so when he appears a third time, you ask him to mask up and join you in bed
-> he’ll hold you tight as you watch youtube together, and you assure him that you’re fine and will be better in no time
#bllk#blue lock#anime#blue lock anime#blue lock manga#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock headcanons#isagi yoichi#itoshi rin#barou shouei#mikage reo#nagi seishiro#michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#bllk nagi#bllk barou#bllk isagi#bllk reo#bllk rin
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strongly worded letter 💌
or: Eddie Munson’s long, weird road out of (the) hell(-side down) ☠️ and into love💗
rating: t ♥️ tags: post-S4, steve’s one-man search-and-rescue for eddie’s not-dead body, falling in love, fluff in surprising places, eddie’s chaotic internal monologue, alphabet magnets🧲 for the win ♥️
for @steddielovemonth day four: "I had not intended to love him. [...] He made me love him without looking at me." —Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
To the external, uninitiated observer, Eddie is well aware his take on all of this will 100% appear both unhinged and as least vaguely self-destructive, bordering on suicidal.
But here’s the thing: if Eddie had been truly suicidal, the million times he could have just stood and let the mobs take him—bigots or mutant bats or a lichy-ballsac that made people float—he wouldn’t have even bothered fighting. Maybe he was questionably attached to self-preservation, but actively wanting to pack it in? Even the thought of sparing his poor uncle his bullshit—finally—hadn’t been a sweet enough deal. Nope: Eddie is selfishly attached to the whole living thing.
Which is why he is begging for it to be understood, in no uncertain terms:
He’d rather know for sure that he was dead in the endless, silent grey hellscape he’s been left in, than wandering in this half-formless, half-collapsing nothing-burger version of the town he grudgingly called home, unsure where he stands on the mortality-scale either way.
—
Here’s the deal.
Vents? Foolishly overlooked.
Epic concert? Rocked, no notes.
Bat-chow? Do no recommend.
Henderson sobbing? Recommend even less.
Being tagged as a corpse? Perfectly fine if that’s what you are; dead weight in an apocalypse simply cannot be justified.
The issue is when you’re tagged as a corpse, and you…aren’t one.
So you’re left behind.
Which brings Eddie to:
Meeting what they’ve been calling a demogorgon this whole time but that resembles no such thing, those goddamn lying liars: not fucking cool.
Having…enough demobat saliva or venom or poison or whatever, probably, where the misleading-as-fuck demogorgon sniffs at you like a dog with her puppies instead of eating you with those fucking petal teeth?
Neutral. Probably wouldn’t order it again.
Getting licked all over by said Petal Teeth, all lioness-grooming-its-young style? Disgusting.
Disgusting.
Figuring out demogorgon saliva has some kinda magical mystical healing properties and you’re basically just covered in fairly-smooth scar tissue now that looks months old rather than hours, and plus you got a bath out of it so most of the dried blood’s gone too?
Fine, okay, he’d leave a tip for service.
But now Eddie is as alive as he can think to test being—and he’s been running all the monster-category tests and he doesn’t pass for vampire, zombie, or any various other undead creatures, he’s hungry but mostly for like, Chicken McNuggets, and—
Stuck. He’s stuck here.
And he thinks they must have won, the Party that is, because nothing’s really happening except…things are falling apart, like rotting in slow motion.
Which is a concern. But. Cool, if it means they did in fact make the motherfucker pay.
But that also means nobody has any reason to be strolling back in to fight demons anymore, and come across his not-so-dead ass. Plus also, the place is probably going to keep crumbling—if a master of a realm is axed, the realm doesn’t typically survive. Mordor fell apparent when Barad-dûr came down. And he…
He did agree to go into Mordor.
Well, fuck him.
—
He mostly wanders around and pokes at random shit, collects some books, ignores the fact that the reality he’s looting is on borrowed time.
He doesn’t know if it’s healthier to deal with that part head on or keep pretending it’s not there, but he honestly could not give a fuck.
Because it’s just him. Save the demogorgon who gave him a tongue bath, he’s seen nothing living. Sometimes there’s a stray screech but it’s too distant to even guess where he’d find whatever made it, stumble upon whatever caused it. There’s not even a breeze to move the decaying trees.
There is nothing.
And it’s starting to drive him fucking insane. He might lose it before the reality caves in on him, actually, just for the sheer…void of it all.
He’s on the edge of that—losing it entirely—when he hears it, sees it.
Who the fuck took that magazine, it’s like three years old, only kept it for the tips on…
And then an echo, like a projection in the air, and it’s fleeting and its faint but where that voice what pretty unmistakable already, the coif of chestnut and the peek of a polo collar, and the seizing in Eddie pulse for both together—it’s almost more undeniable.
That’s fucking Harrington.
—
The vision is, seconds. At most.
But it shifts Eddie’s priorities entirely.
He starts the day—he’s guessing it’s the start of the day, it’s always fucking grey here but he’s just going off of when he’s hungry so—but he looks for cereal in one of these decrepit houses and eats it out of the box as he tries to get his bearings.
Tries also to remember all the weird shit the kids used to say before Eddie knew they were making any of it up.
Context clues give him that this is Hawkins. 1983 or thereabouts—makes sense for the magazine.
But what makes more sense, and is more helpful: Steve had bitched the magazine was moved.
And Eddie’s definitely the one who had it in his hand when he heard said bitching.
So there’s still some connection. Hope’s not totally lost.
Mostly, maybe. But not totally.
—
He decides to go back to Harrington’s and just wait until he goes there to sleep so he can tail him, have some sense of how he can try and make contact from his own side, let someone know he’s still here.
It takes forever; Eddie wonders just how different time runs, here, save that when he finally hears something, the vision is clearer in the air, ghostly but more complete.
And Steve looks fucking wrecked.
Like he hasn’t slept in days, like he’s about to fucking cry, like he—
He’s still the most beautiful guy Eddie’s seen in person, if this counts as in-person, but like—that was never not-true.
“Rob, I don’t know! I just, I just feel like—“
“I will handcuff you to your bed.”
Eddie tries to feel excited that whatever’s happening is strong enough that two voices come through, that Robin’s here, she’s safe too—
But he’s more invested in what’s causing the shouting.
”I know how to pick a fucking lock, Jesus,” and Eddie doesn’t not think about the lock he’s worn more than once around Steve at his belt, nope, he does not—
”The gates are closed, Steve. It’s over.”
Well. Fuck.
There goes the hope thing.
”Not all of them. Not totally.”
Or maybe not.
”Steve, I will hunt you down, I will dog your steps, I will follow you every single moment if you think I am leaving big you even consider going back to—”
“I love you, Robs, but you still can’t drive. Think you’ll beat me on your Schwinn?”
“I will slash your tires.”
“Sorry, birdie, got AAA to save me.”
And that’s all Eddie gets, but…
It almost feels like he’s got one single snowball’s chance in hell, here. Still. Just one, true, but.
If he’s learned anything the last few days, it’s that Steve Harrington’s maybe the most reliable snowball he could ask for.
His chest is all tingly about it, even—fucking traitor.
—
Eddie doesn’t even really have to follow where Steve goes next. In that he knows exactly where it is, just not why the fuck Steve wants to be there.
Especially since even the lack of evidence in ‘83’s version of the trailer still makes him look up at the ceiling and feel like he’s gonna puke.
”Oh sure Mister Munson sir, I just want to borrow your dead nephew’s cassettes, that are definitely in the trailer the fed have locked down to be sent to Area 51 or wherever, just in case he’s not entirelydead in another dimension, and he can hear me because I’m definitely not losing my fucking mind, and definitely not because being called ‘Big Boy’ didn’t fuck with my head more than mutant bats ever did…”
Steve’s frankly endearing muttering, and that last bit especially, distract Eddie enough from the fact that Steve is actively rummaging through his room.
Through his room, Jesus, Eddie moves because he even clocks that lunging at Steve here won’t do shit there to stop the questionable literature Steve’s already sifting through.
At least Steve can’t see him blush across planes of existence. Hopefully.
“Oh,” and Steve sounds shocked, but then looks…gutted?
”One more for the ‘you suck’ column,” and Eddie decides right then that he fucking does not approve of that tone, at all; ”not like I had a chance, definitely not his type…”
“But my type’s the paladin who protects everyone and needs a faithful bard to tend his wound and keep his bed!” Eddie blurts out into the nothing on his side of the divide.
“My type’s been you since fucking junior year!”
Because Junior-Eddie was admittedly much more lust-driven. Let that be said.
Now-Eddie’s equally if not more invested in the heart of a man.
And Steve Harrington, even remotely thinking that he isn’t Eddie’s type?
Maybe Eddie really is dead. And this is hell.
—
”Why do I need them?”
Eddie’s got a new box of cereal—Kix, could definitely be better—and has now trailed Steve to what looks like…the edge of town, which, who lives there…
”Nah, kid, nothing bad. Just want to see something. Promise.”
One of the kids. Maybe this is where the Byerses are, now, if they were right and they’d been on their way back? Because Eddie knows where the rest of them live, and this ain’t it.
Theresa are footsteps in one direction, and Steve wanders in the other, where Eddie sees a girl with a buzz cut he doesn’t know, but who stares Steve down in a way that…Eddie can kinda guess.
They’d all alluded to the super powered kiddo more than once.
”Can you look? Like, just to see if he’s—”
Eddie’s neck turns fast when he turns back in to the conversation, less for the words and more for how timid, how cowed Steve sounds and he…
Eddie just wants, more than anything really, to be able to reach out and touch. To comfort. To do…
Something.
”…would not feel him even if he was there. The connection is gone. The Upside Down is dead.”
And Steve deflates, and Eddie…Eddie remembers the lights didn’t they have to be emotionally unstable, kinda, to make the lights flicker, to let someone know they’re there, and Eddie’s definitely there because—
Not fucking all of it, not yet, Eddie wants to scream; or maybe yes all of it but I’m still fucking here.
Also: that man is 100% my type and I want a fucking shot, I want my snowball’s chance in hell, I want to bite him and call him sweetheart like I mean it and I want, I want, I want—
Also that.
Steve leaves with some…fucking magnets.
And the lights didn’t do jack shit.
—
Eddie spends most of that night playing with magnets.
Well, not at first.
First, he tries yelling, sobbing, focusing like a Force-user, really anything he could think of to get Steve’s lights to flicker. No such luck.
So then Eddie makes a side quest, after having dutifully made certain not to leave Steve’s side for…however many days.
He pops to Melvald’s because of anyone’s got kiddie alphabet magnets, it’s gotta be them.
And score. Definitely not the worst thing Eddie’s stolen. Plus this place is on the way out. Not really relevant, here, if he cared.
Which he fervently does not.
And proves by grabbing two fifths of tequila on the way out. Hah.
He finds Steve passed out on top of his comforter, plaid monstrosity that it is, and he tries very hard to brush his hair back—nothing.
And then Eddie…somehow that’s the straw that breaks the pack-mule’s back. Something in him just fucking snaps.
Because he distinctly remembers this whole fiasco being tied to the labs owned by the fucking Department of Energy, right?
And they can’t even keep the electrical connection between dimensions working?
That’s…that’s unacceptable.
He’s gonna…he’s gonna file a fucking complaint. He’s gonna show up at a picket line. He’s gonna write a strongly worded letter. He’s…
Actually, he’s got all night if the way Steve’s sprawled says anything for how long he’s gonna stay conked out. And he’s also got these handy alphabet magnets.
Letter it is.
—
”What the fuck?”
d3ar 3nergy d3pt he4d i ju5+ wan+ed to te11 th15 guy i w4n+ t0 b1+3 him but n00 y0u c4nt e73n d0 +h4t i h8 u
Eddie trips over some empty bottles, the answer of how they got there pounding in his head real quick—oh, hey, hangovers do transcend dimensions, seems suspicious—but yeah, okay, he does remember getting creative with the abundance of math magnets in the poorly-labeled alphabet pack last night, misleading to lead on letters by default on the packaging. He does recall being very convinced a sideways ‘7’ was a passable ‘V’. But.
He’s not looking at his side of things. He’s looking at Steve’s.
And so is Steve.
And then Steve—who Eddie wants to bite but also kiss and maybe just hold in his arms chest to chest to feel his warmth because when his control broke last night it conveniently knocked him upside the head with the clear realization of that fact that Steve Harrington?
Is doing all this shit for him. On the hope of a maybe.
And Steve Harrington had been disappointed not to have found his lookalike in Eddie’s porn rags.
And Eddie wrote a letter to the fucking DoE in magnets about it, and Steve can see it, stuck to his fridge in 1986 as clear as Eddie slapped it there in 1983.
”…Eddie?”
Steve’s voice is so small and so fearful to be wrong. His chest is heaving, he’s scared.
Eddie scrambles for the magnets left on the floor and smacks them violently to the refrigerator door in record time, prays to everything he doesn’t believe in that Steve can feel his relief spelled out in the bulky primary colors:
h3y 61g b0y v3
And goddamnit, when Steve falls to the floor with his jaw dropped loose, Eddie is 100% sold:
A ‘V’ turned on its side absolutely makes the bottom half of a heart for the three to butt-up to.
—
“Got these to play so if you were there, and couldhear me, you could find your way, if,” and Steve, Steve has been talking to Eddie since they both woke up and found those magnets, even if they haven’t been able to replicate anything, not the letter nor the faulty lighting trick Eddie’d complains about on the fridge in the first place: it could just be a fluke. Steve has no reason to believe Eddie’s alive, that Eddie did that, that Steve didn’t sleepwalk into sleep-spelling, that Eddie even alive in some form would be following his every move.
Of course he is, but. Steve can’t know.
It’s all on faith. For Eddie.
And fuck is Eddie’s heart doesn’t go playing ping pong with his ribs for how much it hits him, how wide and warm it swells in his chest like hope, only second to affection, to want, to—
“Vecna’s not gone, but he’s like, one step from it. I don’t know he can get you but,” Steve taps to the Walkman, to the headphone he gets on just one ear so he can hear and also so someone else—so Eddie—can hear Megadeath as Steve bustles around his house, packing a duffle that reminds Eddie of when they were peeping to storm the castle—
That’s what Steve’s doing. That, that’s what Steve is doing right now.
“I just,” Steve heaves a deep breath, hands on his hips before one pinches between his eyes; “I felt like you were still there, I can’t explain it,” and Eddie’s shaken to his core right now in the best possible way so when he blurts out in a croon:
“Power of loooove, Stevie!”
He can’t be blamed for that. He can’t. He’s…
This man is going down into hell, has not grantee of what Eddie knows in it being largely innocuous, now, save…undead Vecna lurking somewhere, so weak he’s not even noticed.
“But we know music works though, so.”
Steve’s still narrating his plan; Eddie is just staring. Wants to…wants so fucking bad to touch.
“We have to wait for night, for me to get down there. They’re shitty with security on the graveyard shift.” Then Steve’s smirking, and fuck, he’s so pretty.
”Plus Robin sleeps like the dead, she won’t have a chance to notice what I’m doing even on the off chance word got out.”
And the fact that Steve is willing to defy his own platonic soulmate for Eddie—barely knows him in terms of days and hours but at least, if it’s the same as Eddie’s realising more and more that he feels, and unshakable too: it’s like his soul knows Steve, and that cannot care a lick for how time runs, it’s bigger than that.
There’s too much of a sense of potential, a crackling possibility just being in his proximity, even with the distance of other goddamn dimensions—there’s too much swirling in Eddie already for it to mean nothing.
Plus, like: flip the script. Steve is risking everything on a whim, for him.
It cannot be nothing.
“I’m hoping you’re where we left you, which,” and Steve’s voice catches, he pauses, looks around like he’s hoping Eddie might pop into the visible spectrum, so he can see and know, but then he just looks up at the ceiling like—oh, fuck, like it’ll make sure no tears fall out and:
“I can’t fucking tell you how sorry—“ Steve starts to say be Eddie can’t bear watching like this, strides over in an instant and grabs Steve’s hand.
And Steve stills.
And Eddie can feel his pulse in his wrist.
“Is that you?” Steve barely breathes, stares now at his arm where…Eddie can only see the kind of glimmering overlap that means two things are happening in the same place on different planes, he’s grown used to that. But.
If Steve can feel him, if there are moments here that are probably limited where Eddie can prove some little tiny bit that he’s here and he’s listen and he’s with Steve—
He pulls Steve’s hand and drags him into the kind of full body hug he’s been aching for for…fuck.
Too fucking long.
“Eddie,” Steve sighs out, and Eddie can’t help himself. He runs hands through Steve’s hair, and holy fuck: Steve leans in.
Steve feels it enough to lean in.
“It feels like I’ve been falling for a ghost, man.”
Steve says it on a whisper, like he’s still not sold entirely, or else maybe afraid to break a spell. Eddie gets that second part.
“But I guess it kinda started before that, so maybe it’s not as fucking crazy,” Steve laughs a little wet with it and…Eddie has to, because what if he never gets another chance, and hell—if he does, how can he deprive them both the chance to know whatever the sensation will be, like this?
Eddie’s not up to risk never knowing what a cross-dimensional lip lock feels like, okay?
So he doesn’t.
“Please don’t be a ghost,” Steve breathes out and fuck, Eddie can’t taste it but he can feel the way the air moves and it’s, it is; ”I think if you are, I’ll live the rest of my life trying to make it work anyway, I,” and Steve doesn’t get to finish because Eddie pushes in again, and Steve’s as good as his reputation and then some, on wholly separate planes of being.
Eddie cannot fucking wait to feel it flesh to flesh.
“I fall fast, man, but this is kinda insane,” Steve pants, arms out awkward with any indication where to hold. He’s adorable.
He’s delectable.
“But you did say you wanted to bite me, assuming you were talking about me,” Steve smirks but then his eyes go wide:
“Oh, shit, are you a vampire?”
And Eddie has no idea how long he’s been down here alone, surrounding by the silence and the darkness and just the projection level overlay of Steve when he’s lucky, but Jesus H. Christ—
“Is that you laughing?” Steve chokes on his own kinda-giggle as he braces against an unseen and unseeable force barrelling into him: of course it’s Eddie.
Of course he’s fucking cackling.
Because however long it’s been, he definitely hasn’t laughed at any point at all in that span of time—and fuck if he didn’t need it.
—
Steve slips down the last burbling gate not without effort, not without lava-hot road rash no doubt fucking with his already not-yet-healed stomach.
When he’s tackled, thrown straight to the ground, weight pinning him to the ground that’s more dry, more deadened than Steve remembers from just days ago: when his back hits the ground—none of it matters.
“It was me laughing.”
And then Eddie’s mouth is on his—it’s the echo he was afraid he’d imagined that morning, just like the hand on his wrist, just like the laughter wrapped around him.
“You’re an even better kisser in person, holy shit, even your fucking glowing reputation shortchanged you.”
And Steve’s kinda breathless, not just for getting smooshed to the dirt; but then Eddie’s kissing him again, and breathing seems really kind low on Steve’s list of giving a shit.
“You are so my type it’s not even funny,” Eddie says, before diving back into kiss with a bruising kind of force, an unmistakable kind of intent; “I think my type has fully migrated to include kinda just you.”
And Steve’s heartbeat kinda stutters at that because…that’s new.
No one’s ever…well.
It’s just new.
“You weren’t wrong to leave me behind, you don’t ever have to apologize,” and then he’s kissing along Steve’s jaw, and it’s Steve’s laughter now, the tickle of dirty curls dragging at his stubble; “you got out, you’re safe, you’re here,” and Eddie sounds almost overcome with feeling, with relief, and then in the end, bubbling with joy. And somehow Steve can tell it’s not because Steve’s here to save him, bring him home.
It’s just because Steve’s here and that, that is—
Steve’s heartbeat’s just gonna do that tripping thing for the foreseeable future he thinks, at this point. Probably.
“I was trying to convince myself otherwise, because I didn’t think there could ever be a shot in hell but I was falling before it all fell apart, too,” Eddie says in a rush, leaning again to kiss the corners of Steve’s lips, like talking is just an inconvenient interruption to better ways of using his mouth and given how goddamn much Eddie Munson’s always talked, that fucking says something:
“And ever since, it’s felt like I was falling in love through a movie screen,” and he cups Steve’s face to angle it just so as he breathes, those eyes endless and glistening; “could see but never reach, until,” and then he’s kissing him straight on the lips again, a full-frontal assault, tongue seeking teeth, looking for the depths of his goddamn soul of something.
Steve isn’t even embarrassed for how he arches up, how he fucking moans. No one could ever feel this and do anything less.
Like: fucking impossible.
“I liked your letter to the editor,” Steve gasps when Eddie breaks apart and concedes to needing air, presses kisses up and down Steve’s throat while he regroups.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie’s face pops back up—dirt smears and ruddy and in need of a shower but on the whole in way better shape than Steve last remembers having to walk away from, and fuck, fuck—he’s never walking away from it again; “can we send that to the Post? No edits, I want my numbers intact, let them try to figure it out like Zodiac.”
Steve snorts, because god he really is half in love with this nerd, and he’s not a ghost, he’s sold and his chest is heaving into Steve’s and he’s grinning wills and he’s here and they’re here and this is realand—
He yells when the sting clamps through his much-less-extensive uniform of his Members Only jacket despite the weather—it’s freezing, but like, the gates were just cracks, he had to move like a ninja!
Just not a bite-proof ninja, apparently.
“You know, I should have expected that,” Steve deadpans, but his smile gives him away as Eddie pulls his mouth back from the stretch of Steve’s neck that runs to his shoulder, where honestly Steve thinks Eddie punctured the coat in the process. Fucking feral gremlin.
Steve really wants to keep him. Like, indefinitely.
“You really, really should have,” Eddie agrees, beaming like the sun when there’s only dark around them, making it all feel so warm in the chill.
“Honestly should have expect nothing less,” Eddie’s smile curls a little dangerous as he leans in again, apparently satisfied with having caught his breath enough as he mouths wet against Steve’s lips:
“Big boy.”
And then, again: he pounces.
✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here
divider credit here
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#post s4#steve harrington’s one-man mission to retrieve eddie’s not-actually-dead body#fluff#romance#falling in love#first kiss#like: multiple kinds too because of dimensional fuckery?#eddie munson’s chaotic inner monologue#the upside down is a weird-ass place y’all#love confessions#happy ending#honorable mention to robin buckley for being the single voice of reason in steve’s insane rescue plan#even if she was both wholly ignored and ultimately wrong; she gets a gold star for trying#🌟<- robin’s gold star#stranger things#steddielovemonth#prompt: I had not intended to love him…he made me love him without looking at me.#hitlikehammers writes#hitlikehammers v words
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New Jeep (🌶️)
Wolf!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
The old jeep went out with a sputter. It had served you and Natasha so well. From high school to the start of your relationship with your wolf hybrid best friend.
It was a sad day when the jeep sputtered and died.
Tony was more than happy to pay for a new one for you. He went out and drove back with the best top of the line jeep for you.
“Tony,” you chuckled, “you didnt have to.”
“Kinda did,” he shrugged, “I’m protecting my investment in your organization or something like that”
You and Natasha were simply in awe of the new Jeep. It had better suspension, a better engine and of course that new car smell.
Natasha’s tail swished playfully, “wanna take it for a test drive, my hunter?”
You held the keys up and gave her a wink.
You spent a good half an hour doing donuts in the open fields near the sanctuary. Natasha was screaming with delight, her tail swishing happily as the Jeep continued going in circles.
Your adrenaline was pumping and so was your mate’s. In truth, Natasha was still in the midst of her heat cycle. The adrenaline, the rush of going fast speeds and doing donuts was only adding fuel to the fire in her core.
She looked at you, a certain mischievous look crossed over her lips.
You pulled the Jeep into your garage and closed the garage door. You unbuckled your seatbelt and Natasha unbuckled hers.
You tried to reach for the driver side door when your wolf grabbed your hand.
“Not yet” she purred, looking at you with a seductive smile, her voice dripping with desire like honey.
“N-Natasha?” You tried to formulate as her hands went to your pants.
“We still need to christen the new jeep.” She nibbled on your ear, her tail swished back and forth like a metronome; silently beckoning you, hypnotizing you.
“Naughty wolf” your own hands moving to her hips.
“I wanna test out the new suspension system, my hunter” her voice was husky.
“Back row?”
“Yes please”
The two of you couldn’t get to the back row fast enough it seemed. Natasha was practically tearing through your shirt, pulling it off you.
She guided your hands to her blouse, growling in your ear, “get this off!”
You practically tore it off her, a few buttons popped right off.
Natasha began grinding her hips into yours, rocking them into an all too familiar rhythm.
“Please,” she begged, whining in your ear, “I need you! I need my hunter!!”
You guide her khakis down and off her hips. “I’m all yours, my wolf” you gently whispered in her ear before kissing her pulse point.
Within minutes, the jeep was bouncing. The windows had fogged up. Natasha’s moans and cries intermixed with yours. Her nails dug into your shoulders lightly for support as she lifted her hips up only to bring them back down and grind into yours.
The all familiar howl of satisfaction rang out as Natasha came down from her high. It was the most glorious sound you ever heard.
Natasha nuzzled into your chest as she tried to even out her breathing. You and her shared a little proud laugh. Her tail swished slowly as you ran your hands tenderly over her bare body.
“Mmm,” she smiled at you, “I love the suspension on this Jeep.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “a couple more rounds like that and it just might need replacing”
Natasha looked up at you, smirking, “is that a challenge?”
Natasha Romanoff, your best friend, your mate, the love of your life. She just may be the death of you. Some day.
Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @julieromanoff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23 @redhoodte @iiconicsfan25 @idkwhatever580 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk
#marvel#marvel fluff#marvel imagine#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#wolf Natasha#wolf girl#wolf hybrid#scarlett johansson#black widow#black widow x reader
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hey, prada
(🔞) w: (soft&wild) dom!yeonkai × f!reader, anal × vaginal sex, with skirt on, praise, riding, kissing, dirt dirt dirt
You don't believe the cute guys in cheap makeup.
You believe that everyone around them is looking twice at Yeonjun and Kai, even though you've never seen a crowd before.
Their black eyeliner sharpens the gaze, which you think is already intense enough. You lock eyes with Yeonjun more often because of the slightly smoky makeup he sometimes wears. And already Kai seems to be a completely unapproachable person or simply a god. He doesn't care about his surroundings at all and it's like he has his own rules. Yeonjun is a little bit more outside the rules and you feel that he drags Kai along sometimes.
Especially after hearing the rumor that they spend more time in the locker room than anyone else.
Luckily you don't have many friends and you don't hear more of these conversations and lose sleep.
But later, when Yeonjun caught you in a dark place, you were definitely hunted.
The first time you kissed, it felt more amazing than either of you had expected. He pushed you against the wall behind you, placed his hands on the nape of your neck, and let you know how much the taste of you had enraptured him by making your tongues fight. It wasn't hard to guess that he would catch you a second time. But the third time was different. With his right hand on your waist, slowly stroking there, he said breathlessly that he wanted to introduce you to Kai.
Knowing the effect Kai had on you from afar made the offer both exciting and nervous, but it didn't stop you from accepting, even though you'd only been kissing Yeonjun for a few days.
It's a fact that no matter how noble they look and how wild they are, they somehow inspire confidence if they are interested in you. And that's probably what makes them more dangerous?
The apartment they lived in together, so elegant and simple, you weren't sure if it was their little world with little details from them or if this was really their home.
Your meeting with Kai by sitting on his lap and Yeonjun watching this scene from the other corner of the couch with his bright smile distracted you.
During the hour the three of you spent lazily in the living room, neither of them could stop telling you how beautiful you were - and you couldn't stop shifting between their mouths and laps.
They made you wet in the sweetest way you could ever experience in your entire life.
When you took off your top in front of them, your cheeks got so red that when you offered to keep your skirt on, they accepted. Anything you want.
They were usually smiling, but not when they were worshipping your body with their eyes. Not when Kai was watching your breasts, unable to help frowning with all his desire, and Yeonjun was starting to curse a little now.
Soon they were sitting in the middle of the bed, trapping you between their chests, both of your holes filled to the wettest and tightest. As you warmed them up nicely, tons of sensations coursed through your stomach, making you shiver. With every little movement, sweet sounds escaped your lips and Yeonjun is still crazy about it.
“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Kai spoke as his bottom lip brushed against your nipple and you squeezed his hair, he stuck his tongue out as he put the question mark.
“N-no.” You closed your eyes and felt his warm tongue pressing against your sensitive skin. Seeing how your back tensed, Yeonjun gently gathered your hair in his hands and pressed his lips to the nape of your neck. When you dripped some juice right afterward, you could feel the kiss turn into a smile on your skin. As you sigh, his one hand settles on your stomach, pressing your back against his chest.
“And did you like it?” Kai asked now as he lifted his head to look at your lips. His hand came up to brush the hair back from your face and when you nodded at him, his thumb slid down your cheek and pressed against your bottom lip. “Me too, sweetheart.” he watched as his fingers traced the line of your lips. “You're so beautiful...” His voice was deep and warm, going straight to your stomach. "Come on, turn toward Yeonjun for a bit." whispered as he kissed warmly under your chin.
Those few seconds when you move away between them and got off their cocks made you dizzy and uncomfortable. You hurriedly climbed back into their laps.
Yeonjun grabbed you around the waist. “My love...” Your sensitive holes filled as Yeonjun slowly sat you down, sliding with a wet sound. When this intense feeling of fullness hit differently this time, your forehead pressed against his. “Ah-”
Kai's hand, now reaching behind you, slowly went under your skirt and found your clit. “Ahh...” Yeonjun approached your parted mouth and licked your bottom lip. One hand tangled in your hair as you squeezed his shoulders and joined in the wet kiss. Kai rested his chin on your shoulder and began to slowly circle your clit.
Yeonjun's hand in your hair gently turned your head to the side and brought it closer to Kai. And as the two of them together licked your lips filthy, your dripping pussy clenched around them over and over again.
“I- I can't-” Your nails dug into Yeonjun's shoulders, your eyebrows furrowed with the intense feeling that was now becoming overwhelming.
“Are you close?” Yeonjun asked, looking down at your skirt for about two seconds when you nodded in approval quickly. This time Kai's little smile was against your neck. Before slowly biting it there.
At this point, Yeonjun could not resist the urge to slowly lift your skirt with both hands. His eyes first widened and sparkled with desire. Your clit, lazily circled by Kai's middle finger, and the contractions and relaxations of your pussy, which had swallowed his cock to the hilt just below... Behind it all, the wetness glistened so beautifully. “Oh, baby...”
Now you unconsciously started to squeeze them both harder because of his watching. “F-fuck...” Yeonjun hissed and Kai suddenly grabbed you with his palm, making you jump slightly.
All the deep breaths you were trying to take were interrupted by their cocks stirring your gut.
Kai's warm hands adapted to the warm surface of your waist, while Yeonjun cupped your thighs nicely and made you move slowly. You pressed your lips together and began to rock your hips slowly. As you rode them at the same time, the warm sensation spreading across all three of your stomach was unparalleled. All that fullness pumping dirty into you every time your body lifted up pressing against Yeonjun's shoulders and you looked amazing as you eagerly shake your hips against them in a sweet rhythm.
“God...” Yeonjun's grip weakened a little. “Am I r-really... not allowed to see it?" he muttered under his breath as he looked at your skirt. Inside you, they're harder and harder every time you bounce.
Kai's sharp breaths hit your back, sending goosebumps down your spine. He didn't pull his face away from your neck. “You smell so good.” he murmured against your skin and you turned your head towards him. This time your eyes met as you sat on their lap, squeezing around them madly.
You could only see Kai's eyes widen for a second as he gripped your hips so hard that your body shook and fell against Yeonjun's chest. A crying sound came out of your mouth as he immediately lifted his hips for yours and hit you from the back.
Yeonjun smiled and whispered as he combed your hair back with both hands. “You don't want to play with him.”
Taking you by the hands, he helped you sit upright again and his left hand gently cupped the back of your neck, resting his warm open mouth on your neck and licking your skin, savoring the taste he loved.
Then they hold each other's hands on either side of your body in synchronization and you put your hands on their hands and start jumping like this.
Every position you can feel like a princess.
All the praise and encouragement made the orgasm even crazier than it already was and certainly not just once.
©dr-solomon 2025 💪💪💪
#txt smut#txt hard hours#tomorrow x together imagines#txt imagines#txt scenarios#yeonjun smut#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun fanfic#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun hard thoughts#hueningkai hard hours#hueningkai imagines#huening kai smut#huening kai x reader#huening kai hard hours#huening kai hard thoughts#yeonjun hard hours#choi yeonjun scenarios#choi yeonjun smut#tomorrow x together smut
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Billy Butcher x Male Reader [Part Two]
Word count: 1.4k
Somebody sedate me ofmggg. Decided i don't want to hear billy talk rn so i simply gagged him. Lowkey wanna throw rocks at his house and make him cry (our relationship is complicated rn).
Idk how this turned into a male reader when it was supposed to be gender neutral. Oh well. Also he drools a lot in this idk why I did that.
[Part One]
You didn’t think, you just acted. You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him towards you, and kissed him hard. It was angry and messy, a collision of teeth and tongue that left you both breathless.
His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal intensity. It was like all the anger and frustration had boiled over, spilling out into something raw and electric.
Your hand found its way to his throat, squeezing down hard enough that you knew there would be an ugly mark in a few hours. Your knuckles turned white with effort but that didn’t stop Butcher from leaning into your grip. Your kiss long forgotten as he chose to pant harshly in your neck. What a slut. Still, you wouldn’t get distracted so easily.
“Open up” you muttered, before unceremoniously shoving two of your fingers down his throat. You didn’t even have to tell him what to do, the brit immediately sucking like his life depended on it. Eyes rolling back and drool already rolling down his chin. It was always messy when you were with him but you weren’t complaining.
While he was making himself useful sucking on your fingers like they were the best cock he’d had in years, your other hand snaked its way down his front.
A wet patch had already started to form and he was unbelievably hard. You palmed him lightly, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips before eventually making your way to his hole.
Your fingers tentatively prodded his entrance, and to your surprise, he was wet.
“Such a slut for me aren’t you Billy” you cooed at him, thrusting your fingers in and out of his mouth softly. His entire shirt was now soaked with spit. “You couldn’t wait for me to come take care of you?”
The only response you got was a muffled “fuck you”
You chuckled “ I guess it’s only fair for me to have my turn now isn’t it?”
You grabbed his hair roughly and threw him to the ground, not giving a chance to breathe before pouncing on him, pin his thighs beneath yours, effectively trapping him against the ground.Butcher struggled against you, teeth bared in faux disgust.
You knew if he really wanted him off you he could easily do so, no one who's really struggling would arch up into your shallow grinds with such poorly hidden desperation. He wouldn't be propping himself up on his knees to better help you pull his boxers over the swell of his ass.
Shoving them in his mouth to keep him quiet, you decided to begin what you came here to do.
Because you felt like being a little bit nice today since Billy was being surprisingly quiet (and because you didn't want to hear him complaining about it the next day) you decided to finally remove your fingers from his mouth and got to work prepping him.
Your fingers entered him with little resistance. Starting with two you slowly worked your way deeper, purposely avoiding that bundle of nerves you knew Butcher was eager for you to find.
Just a few seconds of teasing got you frustrated whines from the man beneath you, squirming in his place underneath you.
He was so cute like this, face flushed red and tears gathering on his eyelids.
“You know Billy, sometimes I wonder how the rest of the team would look at you if they knew how much a whore their ‘beloved leader’ is”. You pulled your fingers out of him, instead replacing it with the tip of your cock, which was now red and weeping from the lack of attention.
“Could you imagine it?” you teased pushing into him slowly,”Standing in front of Homelander knowing that I had my dick inside you just moments earlier?” You felt him clench at that…what a whore.Your thrusts got faster, deeper, as all the frustration you've felt bubbling up inside you came (lol) up to the surface.
“You’d like that wouldn't you? Fighting him with my cum still dripping out of you?”. He frantically shook his head no as he ‘screamed’ what were surely muffled expletives from behind his makeshift gag. But you didn't need to listen to his answer to feel the way he clenched pathetically around your cock. You stored that info away for later, teasing him about Homelander was fun, but today was about him taking what you gave him, and you getting what you needed.
Your thrust reached a brutal pace, muffled moans and whines bouncing off of the thin walls of the motel. You could feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach, and you knew that you were close. Reaching your hand under Billy’s hips, you stroked his cock at an unrelenting pace, desperate to make him come before you.
You wanted to record this moment, tears flowing freely down his face, the wet smack of your balls hitting his ass the only thing coming close to being louder than his wails. It was a wonder as to how he still had his boxers in his mouth, the poor material now darkened with drool. Still, as Billy reached his peak, you silently thanked it as it was surely the only thing keeping you from being interrupted with a noise complaint.
The brunette seemed to be in his own world, his tough guy persona long gone as he shook silently beneath you, his softening cock trapped between the floor and his cum stained stomach. You followed close behind, soft grunts escaping your lips as you emptied your load into him, before promptly collapsing next to him, chests heaving in unison.
-----------------
You knelt beside the tub, running your fingers through the warm water, testing the temperature.
Billy sat on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a tired sort of curiosity. His usual sharp, biting demeanor was dulled,
“You gonna sit there all night or actually get in?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.
He huffed, shaking his head. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, well, someone’s got to take care of you since you clearly won’t.”
He gave you a look but didn’t argue. With a sigh, he stood, peeling off his shirt and stepping into the bath. The water sloshed as he settled in, leaning back against the porcelain with a long exhale. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and for once, he looked peaceful.
You sat on the edge of the tub, trailing your fingers through the water. “You can’t keep doing this, Billy.”
His eyes cracked open. “Doing what?”
“Losing it like that,” you said, voice soft but firm. “Tearing people apart just because you’re angry. Lashing out at me when you don’t know what else to do with yourself.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.
“You want me on your side?” you continued. “Then you have to trust me. And you have to keep yourself in check.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. He looked like he wanted to argue, wanted to push back just for the sake of it. But instead, he let out a long breath, staring at the water. “Not exactly my strong suit, love.”
You dipped your hand in the bath, letting the warm water slip between your fingers. “I know. But I also know you’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”
Billy scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “That so?”
“Yeah,” you said simply. “Because if you were, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”
A beat of silence passed between you, thick with unspoken things. He swallowed, shifting slightly, like the conversation was making him physically uncomfortable. You could see it—he wanted to apologize, admit that he’d gone too far. But Billy Butcher wasn’t the kind of man who could just say sorry. It wasn’t in his nature.
Instead, he reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a small, unspoken gesture of remorse.
You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile. “That your way of saying you feel bad?”
“Maybe,” he muttered.
“Wow. Huge moment for you,” you teased. “Almost like an actual human emotion.”
He gave you a flat look but didn’t let go of your hand. “Don’t push your luck.”
You squeezed his fingers gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Billy grunted, leaning back again, eyes slipping shut. But he didn’t let go of your hand—not even when the water started to cool.
#𐌕𐌉𐌊𐌉 ᯓᡣ𐭩#male reader#top male reader#billy butcher x male reader#x male reader#the boys x male reader#the boys#the boys x reader#billy butcher x reader#billy butcher
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 — 𝐏𝐉𝐒 | 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 - 𝟐)
Synopsis : Caught in an unexpected rainstorm, Jay steps into a protective role. What begins as an inconvenient downpour quickly shifts into an intimate moment, one that leaves you both with more than just damp clothes.
wc : 1.5k+
warnings : skinship, kissing
MASTERLIST
The cool breeze was the first clue, a subtle shift in the air that made you glance up at the overcast sky. The day had been bright, but now, dark clouds were rolling in fast, an early evening storm on the horizon.
You and Jay had just stepped out of the cafe, the warm ambiance of the place still fresh in your mind as you tried to hold onto the fleeting comfort of your hot coffee. It had been a quiet afternoon, the kind of day that felt like it stretched on forever. It was only when you stepped into the street that you realized the weather had taken a turn.
A raindrop splashed against your cheek, followed quickly by another. “Looks like we’re not getting away from this,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile as you brushed your cheek. Jay looked up, brows furrowing slightly as he checked the sky. “I didn’t think the rain was supposed to hit until later,” he said, his tone tinged with surprise.
Before you could reply, a heavier downpour began, fast and relentless. You laughed nervously, turning back to the café, but it was clear there was no escaping the storm now. “Great,” you muttered. “Guess we're walking through this.”
Jay’s expression softened as he stepped closer to you, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. “Hold on a sec,” he said, quickly digging into his bag. You watched as he pulled out an umbrella, unfolding it with a smooth motion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his preparedness. “You carry an umbrella around with you everywhere?”
He gave a lopsided grin, a familiar glint of amusement in his eyes. “Always. I never know when I'll need it.” You watched as he extended the umbrella toward you. “Here, you can share it with me.”
The gesture was simple but thoughtful, and you could feel the warmth in his voice as he offered it. You hesitated for a moment before stepping under the umbrella with him, your body close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. The rain was heavy now, but the umbrella shielded you both, keeping you dry as you started walking down the street together.
Jay walked just a little bit ahead, his stride long and sure, the umbrella tilted slightly to cover both of you. You couldn’t help but glance over at him, noticing the way the rain caught in his hair, giving it a darker sheen. Despite the weather, he looked effortless, his usual confidence on display even in this unplanned situation.
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as you walked, the rhythmic patter of the rain creating a calming backdrop. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend time together in quiet, but there was something about the intimacy of being so close under the umbrella that made everything feel... different. You found yourself closer to him than you usually were, his shoulder brushing against yours with each step. It was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. After a few more moments, you glanced up at him, your thoughts pulling away from the rain for the first time in what felt like hours.
“Do you always carry an umbrella like this?” you asked again, half teasing, half curious. He gave you a sideways glance, his eyes soft as he looked down at you. “I like to be prepared,” he said simply, his voice a little warmer than it had been before. “And I like to make sure the people around me don’t get caught in the rain.” The sincerity in his words made you pause, your heart skipping just slightly at the thoughtful gesture.
“You’re always looking out for others,” you remarked, the weight of his protective nature finally hitting you. You didn’t say it aloud, but you knew you appreciated it more than you let on. He smiled, a quiet, gentle expression. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, but you could tell he didn’t really believe it. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer, a quiet understanding between you both.
As you continued walking, the rain started to lighten, but it was still steady enough that you weren’t in any hurry to leave the safety of the umbrella. Jay’s shoulder was still grazing yours, the closeness making everything feel just a little more intimate. Your hand brushed against his, and for a moment, neither of you pulled away.
You glanced up at him again, catching the hint of a smile on his lips, his expression softer now. “What?” you asked, wondering why he was looking at you like that. “Nothing,” he replied, but you could tell he was holding back a chuckle. He stepped a little closer, and the umbrella tilted even further in your direction, your bodies now nearly side by side. It was easy to get lost in the small moments, the shared looks, the quiet laughter. You could feel the tension that had started to build between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt natural, like something that had always been there, waiting for the right time to be acknowledged.
The two of you found yourself at the corner of the street, waiting for the light to change. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, but the atmosphere was still thick with the unspoken connection between you. As you stood there, waiting, your hand brushed against his again, and this time, neither of you hesitated.
Jay’s hand closed over yours, his fingers warm against your skin. He glanced at you, his gaze soft but unwavering, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed down. The world around you, the noise of the street, the distant sound of cars faded into the background. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the quiet connection between you two.
“You don’t have to hold my hand,” you said quietly, though you didn’t pull away. Jay’s grip tightened slightly, a reassuring touch. “I want to,” he replied simply. His voice was quiet but firm, and you knew there was no room for argument in his words.
The light changed, and the two of you started walking again, your hand still intertwined with his. It felt natural, like something that should have happened long ago. As you continued down the street, Jay’s thumb lightly traced over the back of your hand, the motion gentle and comforting.
Eventually, the two of you arrived at your destination, your apartment building, the place you’d been trying to reach before the rain started. The storm had passed, leaving only the remnants of the rain on the sidewalk.
Jay stopped when you reached the door, his hand still holding yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you standing there in the quiet aftermath of the storm.
“Well, I guess this is it,” you said, your voice softer now, the warmth of his hand in yours making it hard to let go. Jay didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped a little closer, his free hand gently pushing a strand of wet hair away from your face. You could feel the heat of his touch as he lingered, his gaze never leaving yours.
“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I think I like the rain a lot more when I’m with you.” You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah? You’re not just saying that because I’m standing under your umbrella?”
Jay’s lips quirked up into a teasing smile, but there was something else in his eyes, something more serious, something that made your heart beat a little faster. “Maybe,” he said with a smirk, “but I think you make everything better.”
Before you could respond, Jay leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a lingering kiss. The brief contact sent a shiver down your spine, your hand still in his as he pulled away, his eyes meeting yours once more.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, his voice steady but warm. You nodded, reluctant to let go but knowing it was time. “See you soon, Jay.”
As he walked away, you stood there for a moment, your heart still racing from the kiss, the warmth of his touch lingering long after the rain had stopped.
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Risks
Work, work, work! Thats all you did, you worked for those children told Stella this was wrong, you know you aren’t innocent but dang it did you love those children!
“What did you do with his parents?” Pierre looks away when you confront him, your shaking hands and heart filling with fury. “I told you to not let him take over! Sawyer does not care-“
“Thats enough Mz…..you were supposed to teach them to obey, not…nurture and fill them with fantasies.” You glare at him, this man, Lieth Pierre….of course, him and Harley are no different.
“I tried to raise them like my own, you both told me you wouldn’t bring them harm and- I was foolish!” You back away and then leave, “I’ll talk to him.”
Harley sighs as he rubs his face in annoyance, of course Pierre couldn’t keep you at bay. He never did, it was his mistake for liking you. Offering those poppy flowers as a treaty, it was cruel but he assumed you wouldn’t do anything naive again…but to have them thrown at his face. Well, he was amused honestly, again…he held no grudges.
But this, this was new for you.
“Mz, you can’t simply just hide in the control room and release every toy! They will kill you! 1222,1188,1170, all of them! 1322-“
You turn when you hear Sawyer’s voice, sighing shakily. “They have names, Riley, Theo…I- those two, Kevin, Matthew….Andy…I…” You place your hands on your chest.
“No matter how much I try to look, I was no better…if they kill me, I hope I can ease their pain…I’m so sorry children..” You pull the lever…
“Whatever happens next, maybe, someday, one day. They’ll forgive me..”
“Open the door!” The other scientists yell angrily, banging on the door, you sit down and wait. Harley left the scene, seeing no point anymore, you made your choice…
As the hour of joy begins…
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