#I would’ve liked to have gotten them done earlier but hey they’re done now! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natsfirecat · 3 years

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Stay

summary: r gets hurt saving nat (who she’s in love with) and natasha wants nothing more than to get her back

based on these two requests:

1: If you still need Hurt and Comfort prompts, would you accept a scenario where Reader fell in a coma after a mission gone wrong, and the whole time she’s unconscious, Natasha doesn’t want to leave her side. She doesn’t sleep, barely eats, and constantly talking to reader thinking she can hear. Reader then wakes up after 3 months, and Natasha confesses her feelings for Reader.❤️‍🩹🥺

2: How bout Natasha x fem!Reader where Reader takes a bullet after saving her crush, Natasha, on a mission. Reader survives and brushes it off as “it’s my job” but Natasha doesn’t take the whole situation well, especially since she has feelings for reader too!I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER! 😘😫❤️*have some tea 🍵 *

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff and angst but fluff ending

warnings: swearing, gunshot, comatose, blood, medical knowledge that only comes from grey’s anatomy, catradora quote because i have no self control, lmk if i need to add any more!

A/N i combined these requests since they were kinda similar, i hope you don’t mind kind anons!

“She’s tachycardic! Push one of epi, STAT!”

“No, no,”

“Hang on, Y/N, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. Just keep holding on, okay?”

“You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna pull through this,”

“Why would you do that? How could you be so stupid? Why did you do that?” She yelled.

“Just doing… my job…” You managed to get out.

Eventually the voices around you began to fade out as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

As you felt yourself slipping away, the only thing on your mind was the woman you loved; Natasha Romanoff.

~12 hours earlier~

“Are you ready to go home soon?” You asked.

“Kinda,” she replied honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the team and all, but it is nice to get away sometimes,”

You shrugged,

“Yeah, I guess,”

She smiled, then walked closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“It is nice getting away with you, though,”

You grinned, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I like getting away with you too, Nat,”

She smirked, squeezing your shoulder,

“Then it’s a good thing we still have a day left,”

You could feel your heart-rate increasing as your cheeks got even redder.

Her smirk turned into a soft smile before she pulled away and went to the bathroom to change.

You sighed, thinking about your hopeless crush on her. You had been an Avenger for three years, friends with Natasha for two, and in love with her for one.

You never imagined that you would fall for the Black Widow, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without her.

“So… there’s a mission Fury assigned me to,” she said, leaning back against the couch. “It’s in France, and he said it could last anywhere from a year or two,”

“What?” You sat straight up. “No! That’s too long!”

“I know. It’s a no-contact mission too,”

“That’s such bullshit. You can’t accept that mission, Natty,”

“He assigned me, Y/N, there’s nothing I can do unless someone else volunteers to take the mission instead,”

You stared at her, suddenly feeling very defeated.

“No…” you whispered as your eyes began to pool with tears.

You looked at Natasha, who held her tongue at the roof of her mouth so she wouldn’t cry. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her tightly, letting out quiet sobs into her neck.

As she held you in her arms, the only thing running through her mind was that she had no idea how the hell she would survive being away from you for that long.

After two days of crying, and resisting the urge to scream at Fury, you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You called. The door opened to reveal none other than your favorite redhead, who had the biggest smile on her face.

“Hey,” she said, sitting on your bed.

“Hi,”

“Guess what?”

You shrugged, not really in the mood for guessing games. You just wanted to cherish your last few moments with her before she left.

“So I got a call from Fury this morning…” she told you, her smile growing bigger. “And he said that someone else took the mission,”

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend didn’t have to leave.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t speak. So instead, you threw yourself into her arms.

As they had done several times in the past two days, your eyes began to fill with tears. But this time however, they were tears of joy.

She was holding onto you just as tight as you were holding onto her.

When you finally backed away, she smiled, then reached her thumb up to your face to wipe away your tears.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You don’t need to cry, I’m staying,”

“They’re happy tears, Natty,”

She brought her other hand to your face to wipe away tears on the other cheek, then just held your face in her hands for a few moments.

Oh fuck you thought to yourself. Those tears weren’t platonic.

After that night, you had tried to deny your feelings for her for a bit. After all, you had gotten romantic and platonic attraction mixed up in the past, who’s to say that this wasn’t one of those times?

But as time went on, the butterflies would happen even more often around her. Your heartbeat began to race if her hand brushed up against yours. Your face would flush when your arms wrapped around her in a hug. You wanted nothing more than to be with her, to feel her lips against yours, and to be able to tell her you loved her and have her say it back.

The only person who knew about your crush on Natasha was Wanda. She had asked if anyone caught your eye, and you refused to tell her anything. However, she decided to read your mind to find out.

You were a little frustrated that she did that, but you weren’t too mad, knowing you would’ve done the same thing to your best friend.

So since then, Wanda would always try to convince you to tell her, and you would always say no.

As much as it hurt to have these feelings and not tell her, you knew it would be nothing compared to telling her and having the feelings not reciprocated and losing your friendship. You’d rather stay just her friend forever than to lose her.

So here you were now, in love with one of your best friends.

“Ready to go?” She asked as she finished putting her suit on.

“Yep!”

She smiled, then gestured for you to follow her. Today was the last day of your mission, and you just needed to erase all files from some druglord’s computer.

For the past week, the two of you had done several stakeouts, gotten information, and identified people. The last step was destroying their information.

So, Natasha was currently driving the two of you to the location. She had the radio playing, and the two of you were softly singing the lyrics to the songs.

You turned to face her, feeling yourself smile at the sight of her being so carefree around you.

Not that you knew this, but you were the only person she would ever allow to see her like this.

She kept her eyes on the road, but saw you looking at her through her peripheral vision. You were simply mouthing the lyrics now, not really paying attention to them. Instead, your attention was purely on Natasha.

She kept singing the words though, but she was also smiling at the sight of you.

As she began to turn her head to fully face you, your cheeks grew red.

“Eyes on the road, Nat!” You told her, laughing.

“Okay, mom,” She retorted, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“Oh don’t be like that,” she said, beginning to as well. “C’mon, we’re here anyway,”

You nodded, opening the door as soon as she stopped the car.

Once she locked the car, the two of you made your way into the building.

She had her gun ready, holding it out at every corner you turned.

“We’ve been here like four times already, Nat,” you told her, scoffing. “We’re fine”

She grumbled in response, but kept her gun out.

You shook your head, letting out a sigh, then continued on.

Once you made your way to the necessary room, each of you sat down in front of a computer.

“Delete, erase, goodbye,” you muttered as you typed.

Natasha didn’t say anything as she typed away, just wanting to get out of this building as soon as possible.

You glanced over at her every once in a while.

You smiled, watching her type with the clacking on the keyboard. The tip of her tongue was poking out the corner of her mouth. Her eyes began to squint as she focused on the screen.

Unfortunately, while you were staring, you failed to notice someone else come in the room behind you.

“Avengers,” A voice from behind you said.

You whipped around, your eyes widening to see someone wearing a combat suit holding a gun out.

Natasha stood up, raising her gun immediately.

Before you could even process what was happening, you heard the sound of a gunshot.

Without even thinking about it, you threw yourself at Natasha, knocking her to the ground.

Turns out, she was the one who shot first, considering that the other guy was currently laying in a pool of his own blood that was spilling out fast.

But as you jumped, he aimed his gun at Natasha, pulling the trigger.

You let out a groan of pain, feeling a pain growing in your shoulder.

“Y/N no! What did you do?”

She cried your name a few more times, but you couldn’t respond. You only let out a few shaky breaths and sobs as the pain in your shoulder began to grow.

She pulled her phone out, calling for help as fast as she could.

Everything hurt, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing you did. All that mattered to you, was that the woman you loved was safe.

All that mattered was that Natasha Romanoff was safe.

~two days later~

“How’s she doing?”

“Same as before.”

Natasha sighed as she reached onto your bed, placing her hand over yours.

As soon as you were brought back, everyone began working on you right away. Dr. Cho saved your life, and managed to get the bullet out.

However, because of how long it had taken to get you into surgery, you had a lot of internal bleeding.

So, here you were now, in a coma. No one knew when, or even if, you would ever wake up.

Natasha stayed by your side the entire time.

“Nat, you can’t stay in here forever,” Wanda said, gently placing her hand on her shoulder.

“It was my fault, Wanda,” she replied, her voice hoarse from crying. “It should’ve been me,”

“Don’t say that. You’re both alive. She wouldn’t want you to say that, or to sulk in here all day,”

Natasha said something, but kept her gaze on your unconscious body as her red eyes began to fill with tears once again.

“I can’t lose her.”

After the first week, Natasha finally left your room at night. She would usually come in around 7:00 AM, and stay until midnight.

Clint would come by, and bring her food. He was genuinely worried that she wouldn’t eat if he didn’t.

Wanda came by often too.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Natasha asked her.

“I can try and find out, if you’d like,” Wanda offered.

Natasha nodded, removing her hand from you.

Wanda stood up, then placed one hand on your forehead, closing her eyes.

After a few moments of silence, she gave Natasha a soft smile.

“She’s dreaming,”

“Is she aware of things going on outside?”

“Not right now. I don’t think she’s constantly dreaming while unconscious. Hearing our voices right now, she’s either drowning them out or they’ll be in her dream. She might become more aware later,”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, then connected her hand to yours again.

“Hi, Y/N,” she breathed out. “We did it. We destroyed the files, and the building ended up being destroyed after we left. We did the mission, you can wake up now. You can come back now,”

She could feel herself about to cry, so she turned to Wanda.

“What’s she dreaming about?”

Wanda closed her eyes again, looking into your mind.

“She’s at this house, and there’s comforting energy coming from it. I think it might be her childhood home.” Wanda explained. “Something’s happening in slow motion. There’s like, cracks of electricity and… oh my god there’s a lightning strike right in front of her,”

“She’s dreaming about lightning?”

“I can hear her inner voice. Part of her is afraid, but the bigger part of her is thinking the lightning strike will give her superpowers… and she’s floating in the air right now,”

Natasha laughed for the first time since getting back. Of course superpowers would be on your mind while getting struck by lightning.

“Thank you, Wanda,” she told her, gently squeezing your hand.

“Of course,” she replied. “You should get some rest. I know Y/N would want you to,”

Natasha sighed, then nodded. She was feeling better for the first time since you took the bullet for her.

“Hey,” she said, getting a laptop out and setting it on the side of your bed. “It’s been three weeks now, and uh, I thought it might be a good idea to bring this down and watch your favorite movie. Y’know, maybe hearing it will help you,”

A lump began to form in her throat as she stared at you. However, she said nothing else as she pulled up your favorite movie, then placing it close enough so you could hear, and see it if you were to open your eyes.

Once she pressed play, she sat on the edge of your bed. She wasn’t looking at the laptop screen, she was looking down at you.

She brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and ran her thumb across your cheekbone.

Natasha didn’t even realize she was crying until she had to wipe her own tears off your forehead.

“Sorry,” she muttered, pulling away so she wouldn’t cry on you anymore. “I just… really miss you, Y/N.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped when she noticed your eyebrow twitch.

It felt like everything in her body stopped working for a moment as she replayed it in her mind; you moved.

Before she knew it, she was sprinting out of your room at full speed to get Dr. Cho.

“She moved! I think she’s waking up! Her eyebrow moved!” She yelled as she barged into her office.

Dr. Cho tilted her head to the side, but followed her back to your room.

She walked over to you, then examined the monitors. She looked at you, then back at your vitals.

“Miss Romanoff, I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing in her brain activity that indicates her moving or waking up. Sometimes, when we want to see something so bad, our mind tricks us into thinking we saw it. It’s a cruel thing, but it’s not uncommon for situations like this,”

Natasha’s heart dropped as the doctor left the room to give her space. She thought she had you back.

She wasn’t going to give up on you. She pulled the laptop away, then sat next to you again.

She then layed down, and wrapped her arms around you, sobbing into your neck.

“Wake up, please,” she begged between sobs. “Come back to me.”

Natasha pulled back, placing one hand on your cheek. She leaned down, pulling you close again.

“Don’t you get it?” She said at almost a whisper. “I love you. I always have. So please, just this once. Stay.” She pulled back again, then placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Stay.”

It was like everything in her froze again.

Your eyebrows were definitely twitching now. A groan escaped your mouth, as you blinked your eyes open.

“Natty,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You love me?”

“Of course I do,”

You smiled at her, despite the pain running through your body.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve been in love with you for like the past year,”

She let out a mix between a laugh and a sob as she leaned close to you once again.

You leaned forward too, and before you knew it, the distance between the two of you was closed as you were kissing.

It was gentle, considering the fact that you were still hurt, but you both savored every second of it.

“I love you so much,” you told her, keeping your arms around her.

At this point, you both had tears streaming down your cheeks. Neither of you cared as you leaned in for another kiss.

“Never do that again, okay?” She told you.

“Do what? Kiss you? I plan on doing that a lot more, thank you very much,”

She rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that for me again, alright? I don’t care if you say it’s your job. Don’t do it again,”

“I did it because I love you, Natty,”

She sighed, wiping away one of your tears.

“I’m never leaving you though,”

“Good, I don’t want you to leave,”

Of course, the two of you would end up arguing about putting yourselves in danger to save each other, but it would all work out in the end.

You loved her, and she loved you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x fem reader #natalia alianovna romanova

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flamehairedwritings · 2 years

Text

The Red Guardian

Characters: Alexei Shostakov/The Red Guardian x Tourist!Female Reader

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Wooops, I’ve accidentally been sitting on this for two months. OOPS. Enjoy!

Story tags: ‘90s Cuba, kind of opening scene of Black Widow spoilers, Alexei being Alexei, dirty talk, this is very much a pwp, semi-public, protected sex, using one another, one-night stand scenario, with a little bit of man-handling. Plus cunnilingus, fingering.

Summary: You just wanted a quiet drink... or did you really?

—

“... and I flipped it over like it was nothing, like it was just a page of a book!”

The occupants of the tiny, humid bar are unfazed by the Russian man’s ramblings, or maybe they’re just ignoring him, used to it.

He’s unfazed, too, though, by the seeming lack of interest, just carrying on as the bartender before him nods every now and then absent-mindedly while drying glasses.

“... ‘kaow’, ‘kaow’, ‘kaow’...” He mimics the sound of bullets as he mimes holding a gun, brow furrowed before his eyes widen as he lifts his hands. “... They were firing from all angles, enough to pin a normal man down, but I am no normal man. I took my gun and ‘bam’, ‘bam’, fired right back at them. And, behind me, my team had already gotten the plane ready and they were driving it down the runway, so what did I have to do? I ran…”

Inhaling a slow breath, you exhale it as you resist the urge to roll your eyes, your gaze flicking to the clock on the wall above the bar. He’s been talking since you arrived, which was nearly ten minutes ago, and you’re starting to wish you’d just had a drink in your hotel bar now.

Or just not left your room where there’s air conditioning and a mini-bar and quiet.

But, no, Bolu had made you go out even though she’d felt ill, to ‘soak up the culture and relax! Maybe fuck someone!’, though so far, you’re not getting much of the first two due to the rambling man.

And as for the last one… Phew, well… You’d see.

Just finish your drink then go for a walk then head back to the room. Done.

Sipping your drink, taking quite a few actually so that it’ll go down quicker, you let your gaze drift across the rows and rows of bottles behind the bartender, trying to see how many you recognise.

“Hey.”

Oh, no.

Swallowing your drink, you turn your head and find that, yep, the man has finally stopped talking, but now his attention is on you. Sitting three stools away, he has an easy, though touch leery, smile on his lips, and despite you having thought he was drunk, his eyes are bright and clear. He sits back, one arm resting on the bar top, the other on the back of the stool, and he’s dressed, like any other tourist here, in a white linen shirt that has a few buttons undone, and tan chinos. His brown hair was probably neat earlier today, but now it’s slightly bedraggled from the heat and where he’s probably run his hands through it, and there’s a light layer of stubble on his chin and jaw.

“... hey, excuse me,” he continues as your eyes meet his.

“Yeah?”

“Have you been stood up?”

Your eyebrows rise as you blink, your fingers playing with the straw in your glass. It’s a very impertinent question, maybe he is drunk. Or just an ass.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Ah, good.” His hand claps over his heart as his smile widens. “Otherwise it would’ve been a crime that I would’ve had to report.”

Here we go.

“Oh, right.”

“Because you are a very beautiful woman.”

There it is.

“Yep, thank you.”

Returning your gaze and attention to the bottles, you take a long sip of your drink, though you know from experience he’s not going to take the hint.

Instead of hearing his voice again, though, you hear his stool scrape back at a teeth-jarring frequency, the sound of his shoes, then the stool beside you being pulled back. He settles into it with a light sigh, and from the corner of your eye, you watch him signal the bartender for another drink.

“Can I get you something?” he asks, turning his head towards you and lowering his voice in a way that he probably thinks is seductive.

And, bizarrely, it is; his deep voice sends a light thrill down your spine, but when hasn’t a deep voice done that to you? You’re easily able to ignore it, tilting your head away as you shake it.

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? Back in my country, it’s quite something to have a drink bought for you by me.”

“I’m sure it is.”

He laughs, sitting back with such an air of arrogance that you almost want to ask him why that is.

Almost.

“So, tell me, beautiful lady,” he continues as the bartender pours his drink into a fresh glass, “Why are you here all alone? I can’t imagine why.”

“I just am.” You don’t know why you’re entertaining this, you could easily just walk away, your hotel’s only around the corner.

You know why, a voice that sounds a lot like Bolu’s whispers to you.

Shut up.

Because he’s attractive.

… Ugh.

Yes, fine, that’s why you’re entertaining it. In a strange, rugged, arrogant, irritating way, yes, he is.

And it’s with a resigned, internal sigh that you realise you’re probably going to fuck him.

The man tuts as his long, thick fingers wrap around his glass. “What a shame that is. From your accent I gather you’re on vacation, yes?”

Exhaling a breath, you sit back in your own chair and look at him, and he gives you that same, lazy, arrogant smile; almost as if he knows how this will end, too.

“I gather from yours you are as well.”

He chuckles, shrugging. “You could say that, yes.”

You don’t care about whatever the hell that means. “How long are you staying?”

He shrugs again as his fingers stroke over his jaw, his gaze lingering on yours. “Few days, maybe more. You?”

Your arms fold across your chest. “I leave tomorrow.”

It’s a lie, but there’s no need to start a holiday romance right now.

He drains his drink in one as his gaze sweeps up and down you in a wholly unsubtle manner. “Well,” he murmurs after swallowing, “We’d better celebrate your last night, huh?”

—

You don’t make it to your hotel.

Not that you actually really have much of a choice in the matter because the moment you step out of the bar he grabs your hand and leads you to the alleyway by the side of it.

That’s fine. You don’t really want him knowing where you’re staying, anyway.

Glancing over your shoulder at the empty street behind you as he pulls you along, the moment your head turns back to him you find he’s suddenly stopped and his hands cup your face, holding you steady as he leans down and seizes your lips in a firm, fierce kiss.

It’s a surprisingly good kiss, and any kind of doubt you’d had about this slips away. Besides, you’re going to give as good as you get.

Dropping your bag to the ground, your hands settle on his sides, gripping at his shirt as you hum against his lips. He groans in response, one arm moving to settle around your lower back, and, oh, you know you’re going to enjoy this, as annoying as he seems to be.

Pushing him backwards as you keep your grip on him, he groans again as his back collides against the wall, a large garbage bin now obscuring you both from the street.

“Mmh…” he rumbles, his hands gliding down your back and gripping your ass before sliding up again. “... Yes, I knew you would be a feisty woman…”

“Shut up...” you mumble against his lips, your fingers now unbuttoning the rest of his shirt to reveal the rest of his chest.

He chuckles lowly as you splay your fingers across his bare chest, feeling the hair there. “Mmh, no, I like it…”

His hands grip your ass again, pulling you hard against him, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you at feeling his cock straining against his trousers.

“Yes…” he growls, before stooping and slipping his hands under the skirt of your dress. Sliding them up the backs of your bare legs, he bites and sucks at your lower lip, groaning. “... Mmh, I want to taste you… Feel you wet on my lips…”

“Who says I’m wet…” you murmur, his arrogance constantly teetering on irritating, but he just laughs, a hand sliding around across your stomach and dipping down between your legs.

“Oh, she likes to tease, does she…” He laughs again as you moan suddenly at the feel of his fingers dragging up your damp panties, the sound low and triumphant. “... I think that you are…”

“Just shut up and touch me.”

“With pleasure.”

Kissing you hungrily, his fingers slip inside your panties with no grace at all but you don’t care one bit because he instantly starts to circle your swollen clit, his fingers dipping down momentarily to gather your wetness before continuing to circle.

Your mouth drops open, a long, breathy moan slipping out, and your eyes fall shut. Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Which somehow makes this all the more irritating.

You’d envisaged this as being just a quick, half decent fuck to blow off some steam, but with the way his thumb is circling, and two of his thick fingers are gliding through your slick lips…

Moaning again, you’re about to try and find his lips to kiss him again, when he straightens momentarily to his full height, which you realise is very tall, and his free hand moves to the back of your head, cupping it as he stoops again and his lips descend upon your neck.

This man can’t seem to do anything gently, which is perfect. He sucks and bites and licks at your skin, and you know there’s going to be marks but right now you don’t care, especially as he pushes one of those long, thick fingers inside you and you have to bite down hard on your lower lip to stop that loud moan that wants to escape.

You feel his smile as his mouth trails down to your chest.

“Do you like that, you beautiful woman… Yes… So wet and tight for me, fuck... Let me see those tits, I want to suck on them…”

His hand moves from the back of your head to a strap of your dress and bra, yanking them both down your shoulder together, before doing the same with the other. Your breasts sit pert and high now from how the neck-line of your dress sits, and he goes straight for a hard, peaked nipple, sucking and licking at it.

You have to bite hard at your lower lip again, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure thrums through your body. A live band starts up somewhere, possibly in the bar you’d both been in, and it’s loud enough that you can exhale a louder moan without worrying if someone on the street might hear.

Not that you actually care much about that right now.

Especially as he doesn’t seem to care at all with the words that are pouring out of his mouth.

“... Mmh, so good… Gorgeous, gorgeous fucking woman… Do you like that, hm? Do you like feeling my fingers inside you, stroking you just like this… Yeess…” he hisses as he draws a sharp moan from you after pushing a second finger inside you, his thumb swiping up and down over your clit in time with his thrusting fingers.

Part of you thinks he’s doing this more for his own ego and pleasure than yours, but you don’t really give a fuck because it feels fucking good regardless.

His wet mouth moves to your other nipple, and your back arches into him, your head tipping back.

“Mmh, fu-uck…”

“Yeess…” he groans again, but you block him out, just focusing on his mouth and fingers as they push you towards your orgasm, your fingers gripping at him as heat surges in your lower stomach.

And then he stops.

“What—”

Just as your eyes snap open, he suddenly spins you, turning you both and pressing your front against the wall.

You release a small sound as your cheek and breasts rest against the surprisingly cool wall, and he presses a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your other cheek, growling in the back of his throat.

“If you’re going to cum, I’m going to feel it on my cock…” he gravels, and, oh… maybe you can continue listening to him talk.

He kisses at your jaw and neck as his hands fist your dress. He pulls it right up over your ass, where his fingers then slide over your hips and yanks them back, making you lean forward, now just your cheek and chest pressed against the wall.

“Do you have protection?” he murmurs against your skin, not pausing his kisses.

Annoying, that he asked it before you.

“Yeah, in my bag,” you reply, and, oh, you wish your voice hadn’t sounded so breathy.

“Good.” Kissing your shoulder, his fingers tighten on your hips for a moment. “Stay right here, do not move.”

For fuck’s sake, that makes your lower stomach clench as you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You know you’re dripping wet at those words alone, so thank fuck he doesn’t have his hands on you to gloat about it.

You watch him step away in your peripheral vision, and hear him lift your bag, unzipping it and rifling through. By the sounds of it, he’s letting a few items just drop to the ground which makes you want to tut, but what did you expect?

Then, you do tut as you hear him drop your bag to the ground, but it’s swifty followed by the sound of his belt unbuckling and a condom packet opening, and your irritation instantly vanishes.

“Look at you…” he murmurs, and your teeth drag over your lower lip, expecting to feel the head of his cock.

Instead, though, you feel something warm and wet.

Your eyes fall shut once more as you feel his tongue lick a long and slow path up your pussy, and he groans into you.

“Fuckin’ perfect…” He adds something else in Russian, something mumbled, and his voice vibrates against your slick lips.

“Fuck…” you breathe, pushing your ass back against him, and he grips your hips again, holding you in place as he laps at you.

It seems like just as he starts, he stops, though, rising to his feet and towering over you again.

His hands remain on your hips, his mouth by your ear as he murmurs, “Mmh, I could feast on you for fucking hours, but I want to feel you on my cock, I want to feel you…”

“Fuck me, then…” you hiss, and he laughs.

“Yes, you want me so bad, don’t you, you want my cock…”

You still don’t feel his cock, though, and you push your ass back against him, a huff escaping you. “Fuck me…”

“So needy…” You’re about to snap back when he presses a kiss under your ear and whispers, “... Tell me you want my cock…”

Damn him.

Reaching a hand back, you glide your fingers up his neck until you reach his hair, twisting your fingers in as you turn your head towards him.

Your lips brush against his as you murmur, “I want your cock inside me.”

A deep groan escapes him, and just as he nips at your lower lip, he pushes his cock into you.

He’s slow, letting you feel every thick inch of him, and your eyes nearly roll back as they close.

“Oh, fuck… Oh…” you breathe, your back arching and fingers tightening on his hair, and his hands keep your hips pulled back against him.

“Yesss... Take the Red Guardian’s cock…” he growls, biting and sucking at your neck.

Is that what he calls himself? Oh, God…

You don’t have a chance to think on it further, though, as he draws his hips back and snaps them forward, and does it again, and again, and again…

You have to fight hard to keep your moans from echoing down the alleyway as he fucks you hard and fast.

He mumbles and groans things into your ear, his accent becoming more pronounced, some Russian words slipping in here and there, but you just focus on how fucking good it feels.

He’s chasing after his own orgasm, his earlier words of wanting to feel you cum on his cock maybe just for show, but you don’t fucking care. It’s fast and hard and brutal and good and you’re going to cum soon.

Maybe you murmur it or maybe he feels it, because he laughs harshly against your ear. “Yes… Yes, yes, yes… Cum, I can feel you… Cum on the Red Guardian’s thick cock… Take it…”

Needing something to grip onto, your grip tightens on his hair, which he seems to like, laughing again, though it soon morphs into grunts.

“Yes… Fuck…”

Biting down on your lower lip, your moans increase in pitch as your back arches. You can feel your orgasm coming, surging towards you, and it’s all you want.

When it finally crashes down on you, you almost forget he’s there, until his hand claps over your mouth to muffle your most likely loud moans. All you can do is press back against him and groan into his palm, waves and waves of pleasure washing over you.

And he just fucks you through it, not stopping, unrelenting, grunting and cursing in Russian into your ear, whispering what may be sweet nothings but you can’t understand them.

You’re just starting to come down from your high when his thrusts start to stutter, and then he thrusts into you once more, and stills, a prolonged, low moan ripped from him as he cums. He buries his face into your neck to try and quieten himself, and you let him, your hand on his hair holding him there.

Then, all is quiet as he just breathes against your neck and you breathe into his hand.

The music continues, and no one calls down the alley to you.

You’re content to just stand there for a few more moments to just catch your breath, when he laughs, and releases a low whistle.

“Holy shit… You’re fuckin’ good.”

Aaaaand we’re done now.

Pulling his hand down from your mouth, you raise your eyebrows as you nudge him away with your elbow. “Same to you.”

He pulls out, and you lick your lips, managing to stifle the soft sound that would usually invoke from you, and turn from him, adjusting your dress and settling everything back in its place.

Moving away, you pick up your bag and stuff the items that he’d thrown out back into it, trying not to cringe as he whistles again.

“... Holy shit… Very good.”

It had been good, but you’re not looking to get attached, so...

I wonder if Bolu will want ice cream, I want ice cream now. I wonder if the hotel has any—

“So, what’s your name?”

Oh, no.

Glancing up at him, you give him a brief smile. “It doesn’t really matter, does it.”

He chuckles, leaning against the wall while he tucks his cock back into his trousers. You have no idea where he’s thrown the condom, and you don’t care to look.

“No, I suppose not. Well, if you’re ever in Cuba again—”

Straightening, you smile again. “Oh, I won’t be. Thanks for this, bye.”

Turning, you stride down the alleyway, listening to his chuckle echo down it.

“Well, goodbye, beautiful woman. I hope our paths do cross again!”

You almost smile as you step back out onto the street, safe in the knowledge that you’re never going to see him again.

Ever.

Never.

—

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

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Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

#alexei shostakov x reader #red guardian x reader #david harbour #black widow #i don't remember how to tag and post stories anymore #named the friend after a top writer/nick miller enthusiast #an all round GEM #enjoy!#flamehairedwritings #my writing

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

can you do one with arvin x reader? maybe where arvin is in a relationship with her, but arvin's always been a bit reserved and not big on physical affection, so one day when arvin asks her for a kiss she's like "what is going on with you???" confused af but happy??

count on six fingers

w/c: 1.1k

warnings: slight descriptions of blood, implied smut, and swearing but duh

a/n: ooo i haven’t written for arvin in a while so i enjoyed this a lot :,)

arvin is a good guy. a really good guy, you just have to give him a chance to show you that. he’s always been quiet, observing people more than participating in their conversations. he usually isn’t interested in what they’re talking about, anyway. superficial shit that doesn’t matter.

you’d been the first friend he made in high school. he was alone most of the time, unless who you knew to be his sister was with him. arvin is a few years older and super protective of her. she’s always getting pushed around or name called, so he always stops it.

it was after a fight between him and some seniors that you properly met him. arvin was limping around the schoolyard with a bloody gash on his cheek. lenora waited in the car while he took care of her bullies. he got his message across, but ended up thrown face first into a fence, hence the cut. you’d seen the aftermath of him stumbling back to his feet.

he was about to get into his busted up car when you caught his attention.

“hey!” you called to arvin, making him stop in front of the driver’s door. you took that as your cue to walk over. he let go of the handle and looked at you over his shoulder. your face held concern and your hand held some tissues. “you’re bleeding,” you said softer, giving him the tissues. arvin took them with furrowed eyebrows.

“thank you...” he trailed off so you could insert your name. “y/n.” you offered a genuine smile. he’d never gotten too many of those. “y/n,” he repeated and blotted at his gash. “did you see all that, y/n?” “just the end. i would’ve rooted for you, though,” you tried to make him feel better. it seemed to work because he let out a low chuckle.

arvin shoved the dirty tissue in his pocket and replaced it with another. “that’s awfully nice, thanks.” “those guys are...” you looked around to make sure no one was listening. “assholes.” “pieces of shit, all of them,” he added on in a mumble. his abruptness drew a laugh from you, the sound making him feel tingly. a good tingly, not like when he was getting beat up.

“you said it,” you agreed and fixed your eyes on his face. he was really handsome, even with the scratches. arvin noticed your stare, the corners of his lips pulling into a smile. “well, i don’t wanna keep you,” you sighed out despite yourself. he guessed you were referring to lenora. he’d nearly forgotten she was in the car.

“alright, thanks again for checkin’ up on me. was really kind of you,” arvin said and actually meant it. most of the time, he was polite because his grandma told him to be. you’d quickly become someone who he thought deserved it for real. “no problem. maybe put on a bandaid when you get home,” you suggested before finger-waving goodbye.

you’d found arvin at lunch the next day to ask how his cut was doing. you truly did care, and it turned out that he listened to you and covered it with a bandage. he was alone because the underclassmen eat earlier in the day, including lenora. though he didn’t mind much, it was nice to have someone to sit with. the two of you eventually started eating together every day.

arvin took such a liking to you that he asked you on a date a few weeks in. you instantly said yes, and you two have been together ever since. it’s been about half a year.

half a year, yet you can only count the times you’ve kissed or hugged or cuddled on one hand. he’s affectionate in other ways. lots of pet names and sweet words. that’s about it. he’ll hold your hand if you initiate it, but never tightens his grip. it doesn’t make any sense to you. arvin seems like he’d be a pretty touchy guy.

you’ve never brought it up to him because, hey, maybe you’re wrong. he simply might not enjoy physical affection. you conclude that’s all there is to it. if there was a bigger issue, arvin would have said something by now. he’s never backed down from an opportunity to speak his mind.

arvin had a really good day today. nobody started unnecessary shit with him or lenora, he got his paycheck from work, and you two went out to lunch. you’re back at his house and hanging in arvin’s room after all that.

your head is resting on his pillows, arvin sitting where your feet are. you give him a lazy smile. he exhales, grinning back and coming towards you. his hands end up on your hips, pulling you closer to him. it sends an electrifying shock through your whole body whenever he touches you because it happens so rarely.

arvin moves so he’s between your legs, his face and lips not too far from yours. his lips finally land on your cheek. “what’re you doing, arv?” you giggle at his out of the ordinary behavior. “kissin’ you,” he says like he’s done it a million times before, going in for another. you stop him by pushing at his chest.

not that you’re opposed, but you want to know what’s changed first.

“since when do you do that?” you question, fingers tugging at his button down. arvin pulls away from you. “just thought you’d like it. i can stop if-“ “no, no. i want you to,” you cut him off before he gets discouraged. “but how come you’ve waited so long?” his gaze shifts from you to his hands.

“when we first met, i was always in some kinda fight,” he starts, voice lower than it was a minute ago. “i didn’t want you to think i was violent, or i was usin’ you for a quick fuck like those...” arvin shakes his head. “those assholes do.” your face softens as he explains everything. it’s not that he wasn’t interested in physical affection. he just wanted to be gentle.

“feel like now i can touch you without scarin’ you off,” arvin finishes and meets your eyes again. “i know you’re not like that, arvin. you could never scare me off,” you coo, grabbing his shoulders firmly. “i love you.” his worried look relaxes into one of fondness. he lets your words sit with him before murmuring back a “love you a lot, darlin’.”

arvin quickly gets back to his playful self. “okay if i kiss you?” he smirks at you, eager to get familiar with the taste of your lips. you don’t answer with words. you instead capture his own lips in a needy kiss, which he instantly reciprocates. he’s still grasping at your hips, which contrasts the light kiss he’s giving you.

your theory about arvin being a touchy guy is proven right. his fingers move up and down your sides slowly, earning a quiet moan from you. you’ve been so touch starved. he figures out a couple of other ways to make you moan tonight, too.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #arvin russell #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell smut #arvin russell fluff

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parkerslatte · 3 years

Text

Someone Like Me

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N has liked Spencer since she joined the BAU a few months ago. He likes her too and is surprised when she asks him out on a date.

MASTERLIST

***

It had been a couple of months since Y/N had joined the BAU. In those two months she had become close friends with every member, however she had become quite close friends with one Dr. Spencer Reid in particular. Due to their closeness in age, the two were obviously drawn to one another. Of course due to them being close friends and close in age, it came with a lot of teasing from the other team members - especially Derek Morgan.

“Hey, Spence!” Y/N greeted as she walked into work that day.

He looked up from the files on his desk and gave her a smile. Y/N stepped behind his chair before leaning down to hug him, her head resting on his shoulder. Y/N would do this everyday and Spencer wouldn’t mind. The first time she had ever done it, everyone expected the genius to awkwardly tell her that he doesn’t hug or really touch anyone for that matter. To their surprise, Spencer accepted the hug, even reaching up his own hand to wrap gently around her wrist.

Y/N unwound her arms from around Spencer and perched on the end of his desk, folding her arms across his chest, “So, the new episode of Doctor Who comes out tonight, you wanna come round and watch it with me?”

Spencer, who wasn’t normally invited to things, especially when it was a one on one thing, raised his eyebrows in surprise. Before he had the chance to answer however, Y/N spoke up again.

“If you already have plans, I completely understand.”

“No, no,” Spencer said before clearing her throat, “I mean I don’t have plans. I’d love to come.”

A wide smile stretched across Y/N’s face, “Great, you want to head back to my place after work? Unless you need to go back to yours first.”

“Um, no I don’t. Going straight to yours if perfectly fine.” Spencer replied.

Y/N stood up straight, “Good, now I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve gotta help Penelope with something.” Y/N placed her hand on Spencer’s shoulder and didn’t remove it until she was too far away.

Spencer watched her walk away until he couldn’t see her anymore before turning back to his desk to find Derek Morgan looking at him.

“What?” Spencer asked, oblivious.

“Come on kid.” Derek replied and Spencer didn’t reply, signaling to Derek that he had no idea what he was hinting. Derek sighed before continuing, “She likes you.”

“What? No she doesn’t.” Spencer replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Reid, you’re a profiler, how can you not tell?” Derek said, “She always goes out of her way to talk to you. She always greets you with a hug and the looks she gives you when she thinks nobody is watching? They’re clear signs she likes you. You should ask her out.”

“I’m not going to ask her out.” Spencer replied, flicking through his paperwork.

“And why’s that?”

“Because she doesn’t like me okay? Can we just drop the subject?” Spencer responded before focusing on his paperwork.

Derek, who knew that Spencer wasn’t going to talk anymore about the topic, sighed before going back to his paperwork.

***

Later that day, Y/N welcomed Spencer into her apartment. Spencer had never been to her apartment before so he couldn’t help himself but look around it. Her apartment was homely, and felt lived in. It was bright and cosy. What caught his eye however, was the many different books she had stacked around her apartment.

“Sorry about the mess. I didn’t really have time to clean last night,” Y/N apologised, “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to change into something a little more comfortable.” Spencer took a seat on her couch which was covered in many different colour blankets and waited for her to return.

A couple of minutes passed by and Y/N walked out of her bedroom in what looked like her pajamas. She slumped on the couch next to Spencer. She brought her legs up and tucked them under herself, getting comfortable. She leant forward and grabbed the remote, switching on her television. Her knee brushed his leg slightly every time she moved, causing Spencer’s focus to change from the screen to her.

Y/N noticed this and turned her head to face Spencer, “What?”

Spencer, realising that he had gotten caught, cleared his throat, “Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something.” He lied and Y/N could see right through it. Instead of questioning it, she let the episode play.

Over the course of the episode, Y/N had found that she had gradually moved closer to Spencer due to her constant shuffling. Her shoulder brushed his and her knee was now fully pressed against his.

Spencer could barely concentrate on the episode. He had been close to Y/N before but never when the two were alone together. The feeling of her knee pressed against his and the gentle brush of her shoulder was almost enough for him to get up and leave and run away from his feelings.

The credits rolled signaling the end of the episode. Spencer was glad, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take being in close proximity to Y/N. She swung her legs and stood up, stretching her body. Spencer looked away when her t-shirt rode up to reveal a bit of her stomach.

Y/N checked the clock on the wall, “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, “It’s midnight.”

Spencer, who hadn’t realised the time, looked at the clock on the wall and sure enough it was midnight. He stood up from the couch, “I should be getting home, it’s late and we have to be at work early in the morning.”

“You can stay here for the night. It’s late and by the time you get back to your apartment it’ll be even later.” Y/N rambled.

Spencer thought about it for a moment. By the time it would take him to get home it would be about one in the morning. He was feeling tired now and he knew that by the time he would get home,he would be wide awake.

“We can leave earlier in the morning so you can pick up some clothes from your apartment.” Y/N added.

Spencer took one more moment before nodding, causing Y/N to smile, “I think I have some clothes that’ll fit you so you can sleep in something comfortable. I’ll just go and get them.”

Spencer nodded before taking a seat on her couch, he guessed that it would be his bed for the night. Not that he was complaining, the couch was comfortable. Y/N returned with a pile of folded clothes in his hand and handed them to Spencer. He went to get changed in the bathroom before returning and began walking over to the couch.

“Where are you going?” Y/N questioned.

“To the couch?” Spencer asked confused.

“No, you can share my bed. That couch may look comfortable but after a few hours of laying on it, it gives you an awful pain in the neck.” Y/N said, taking Spencer’s hand, leading him to her bedroom.

Spencer, felt his face begin to heat up at the thought of sharing a bed with Y/N. He knew that she would see it as totally platonic but he would see it a completely different way.

She laid down in the bed first and patted the space next to her. Reluctantly, Spencer climbed in the space next to her. They faced each other as they laid there. Y/N began to reach forward and Spencer recoiled slightly.

“Relax.” She muttered before pulling his glasses off his face and placing them on the nightstand. Spencer had completely forgotten he was wearing them until Y/N had taken them off.

“You have really nice eyes,” Y/N said to Spencer, “They’re kind.”

“Um, thanks.” Spencer muttered quietly, a blush forming on his face.

“Spencer, can I ask you a question?” Y/N asked.

“Of course.” Spencer replied.

“Will you go out on a date with me?”

Spencer fell into a state of shock. Y/N had asked him to go out on a date. He was confused by why Y/N would want to go out with him in the first place.

“What?” Spencer asked slowly, wondering if he misheard her.

“I asked if you wanted to go out on a date with me? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I understand.” Y/N rambled.

“No, of course I want to,” Spencer replied, still quite shocked, “But why?”

“Why what?” Now it was Y/N’s turn to be confused.

“Why would you want to go out on a date with me?”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Because Spencer Reid. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” Y/N started and continued to list off things that she admired about him.

Spencer was listening intently, trying to process what Y/N was saying to him. He would’ve never thought that the person he liked would be saying all this to him.

“And not to mention, he is incredibly handsome.” Y/N finished.

“W-what?” Spencer questioned.

“I said that you are incredibly handsome Dr. Reid.” Y/N replied, her hand gently coming up to caress his cheek.

Spencer couldn’t help the smile that fell onto his face as Y/N’s thumb gently ran across his cheek. Y/N had a smile on her face as well, she had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders after she had asked him on a date.

“So, are you free tomorrow night?” Y/N muttered. It was only now that she had realised that she had gotten closer to him. Their bodies were nearly completely touching. Spencer had one of his arms draped over her body while the other had begun to play with the ends of her hair.

“For you Y/N, I’m free anytime.” Spencer said smiling.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

a bit of stress relief

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Can you PLEASE write about Freddie coming to your work and having a quickie in your office

Warning: smut, fluff, whiny Freddie

Author’s Note: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED for a bit. I do have one more in my inbox right now so I’ll add it to my drafts but after I write that I won’t be taking requests for... a while. Maybe a month? I have a few series I want to finish up before I start having requests piling up. I always love seeing my inbox full of requests for different types of fics, so this isn’t forever, just until I’m able to finish my Gally series for sure and possibly my 9-1-1 series. This request was fun and I just couldn’t say no lol. Thanks in advance for your understanding and I hope I’ll be able to get back to requests sooner than later but I’ll keep y’all updated! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

Your boss asked you to go into the office on a Saturday to finish an assignment that she had forgotten to mention earlier in the week. You would’ve argued that you had plans but your boss said it was for a presentation the next morning that they needed the information for

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” you whined to your boyfriend as he tried to convince you to stay at his apartment, “believe me, I’d much rather be here but I’m not about to get fired...”

“It’s not your assignment, it’s hers,” he argued, “she made the mistake. Why do you have to do it for her?”

“It’s my job” you admitted

“Except when it’s not...” he groaned

“Freddie,” you sighed, “I won’t be long I promise. I just need to go in and print up some stuff and make a couple calls. Nothing major...”

“So why can’t your boss do it?” he challenged, “it’s her mistake, so.. she should be responsible for fixing it”

“I know,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing his cheek, “but I can’t lose this job. I have loans to pay off”

“You know I can help with that”

“No,” you scoffed, “no you absolutely cannot. I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything. That’s not the relationship we have... I’m not your sugar baby”

“But you could be”

“But I don’t wanna be”

“Alright...” he laughed, kissing your nose playfully

“I’ll call you when I’m finished okay. I give it one, two hours tops”

“If you’re not finished in two hours, I’m coming down there and taking you home” he teased

“Okay,” you scoffed, “I’ll see you later.” You got to the office and rushed into your boss’s office to find the information you needed to work on. The office was empty, as it should’ve been, but when you heard the door open and close, you popped your out of the door to see who was there, “Hello?” you called

“(Y/N)?” your co-worker asked

“Mason? What are you doing here?” you returned, noticing now that a bunch of your co-workers were walking in

“We could ask you the same thing” he chuckled

“Laura forgot to do stuff for the presentation tomorrow, so she asked me to come in and do it”

“For the conference?”

“Yup”

“Yeah,” he replied, “our team is having the same issue. Except they’re saying they ‘lost it’ or that it ‘must have gotten deleted somehow’ so now we have to be here all day trying to fix this”

“Why are any of this people in charge again?” you asked

“Maybe they slept their way to the top” he joked before waving you goodbye and heading to his station. You started at this company as an intern, mostly handing out mail and grabbing coffee for everyone, but they kept you around because you had a good eye for graphic design which was important in a marketing firm. However, your boss, Laura, had replaced Debra, the former Head of Marketing, a month before you were hired to be her assistant and she really wasn’t all that fond of you. She claimed that your degree should be in Business or Marketing not Graphic Design and that you’d only ever be an assistant in this industry so ‘don’t hope for more than that.’ You didn’t think too much of her comments though, at the end of the day, you had a job to you and you were going to do it well; even if it meant coming in on the weekend to do her forgotten assignments. When you finally found Laura’s papers, you groaned audibly, realizing this wasn’t going to be quick work

“Hey!” Freddie greeted you from the other end of the line when you called him to let him know what was happening

“Hey...” you sighed

“What?” he groaned, “what’s going on?”

“It looks like I’m gonna be here for a while. Laura underplayed how much work there was for me to do...”

“You can’t really be doing this?” he whined

“Babe, I have to. I told you, it’s my job. But,” you added, hoping it would make him feel better, “it’s not just me! Apparently, all the senior staff forgot to do these super important assignments for the conference. So, a bunch of us are here working until we finish them”

“You need to quit this job,” he grumbled, “clearly no one is good at what they were hired to do”

“I can’t quit unless I have something lined up,” you argued, “babe, I’m sorry. I know I promised that we’d lay in bed all weekend because this was the first time that you had free time but I have to do this. I promise, I’ll work as fast as I can but the longer I’m on the phone, the longer I’m at the office. So, I gotta go. I love you and I’ll see you as soon as I’m done okay?”

“Call me and I’ll pick you up,” he replied, “you shouldn’t have to take an Uber back here...”

“Okay,” you smiled, “that would be nice. Talk soon. Love you”

“Love you, too” he said before you ended the call. You took a deep breath and started getting to work. Organizing timelines and trying to understand doctors-note-handwriting from past meetings

“How can she possibly expect me to be able to understand this?” you thought to yourself. You signed onto her computer and were immediately left in shock at the jumbled mess of her desktop, “holy fuck!” you exclaimed silently, it’s no wonder she gets nothing done, “she’s the most unorganized person I’ve ever seen!” You spent the next 20 minutes opening files to find what you were looking for, closing what was not it immediately so you could legally say you didn’t see anything, and then you had to spend the next half an hour printing documents and running back and forth between Laura’s office and the copy room

“How’s it goin’?” Rob, one of the other team members who was forced to come in and work on a Saturday, asked when he noticed you rushing throughout the room

“Oh, you know, I’m sure I’ll have a panic attack in the next, oh, twenty or so minutes” you replied, sighing as you walked back to the printer one last time. You had managed to get most of the paper work done but you still had to make a few phone calls to get estimates on some of the ad spaces needed and whether or not there could be a discount involved for the company

“Hey!” Freddie said gleefully, walking into your boss’ office like he owned the place

“Freddie,” you gasped, a slight sneer on your tone, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you...” he replied, furrowing his brow at your response, “when you said you were gonna be longer than you thought, I thought I’d come down and surprise you. Maybe take the stress off a little?”

“That’s sweet, babe,” you smiled, noticing the look in his eyes and realizing what he was really there for, “but I have to make some calls so I can’t... do that”

“We can make it work” he teased, biting his bottom lip quickly before pulling you close to him

“Fred...” you whined, kissing him once before pushing him away from you and walking back to Laura’s desk, “I really do have to work. You can sit if you want but that’s it...” he slumped onto the plush couch against the window and frowned before scrolling through his phone as you started to call the businesses on your list. After about 10 minutes, you noticed Freddie peering up from his phone to look over at you, as if he was trying to get you to hang up the phone just from a look, choosing to walk over to you when you didn’t. “Yes, that’s right. I know you’ve been with us for quite some time and our relationship has helped both our businesses grow,” you spoke as Freddie swiveled you and your chair out from the desk, “we want that relationship to keep growing” you continued before noticing the smirk on Freddie’s face as he hovered over you, kissing your neck as you tried to pay attention to the call. “Mhmm,” you said to the person on the other end of the phone, distracted by Freddie’s lips pressing against the sensitive skin on your neck, his hot breath cascading down your neck, “mhm, sure. I understand” you said again, trying not to let on what was happening. “Laura is so sorry she couldn’t make this call to you herself,” you lied, Freddie kissing his way down to your core, pulling off your leggings quickly and kissing your inner thighs as you spoke, “however, she is excited to showcase your work to those at our conference tomorrow. We all just wanted to make sure the numbers were 100% accurate...” you had to bite your lip and move the receiver end of the phone from your mouth in case any sound escaped when you felt Freddie’s tongue finally press against your clit. “Oh that’s great!” you exclaimed when the partner on the phone added a discount to the quote you’d already been given, claiming that, had he known other businesses would be hearing of his services earlier, he would’ve offered it sooner. “Thank you so much,” you smiled, Freddie’s hands pulling your body closer to his him as his mouth brought you closer and closer to your orgasm, “I or Laura will let you know how everything goes. Thank you again” you said quickly before hanging up the phone. “Fuck,” you cursed breathlessly, “oh my god, Freddie!” your back was forced to arch, as you were pretty much falling out of your seat as Freddie continued to stimulate your clit, only now moving his finger to caress your folds before slowly inserted it inside of you and pumping until you whimpered, tugging at his hair. “Freddie,” you squeaked, trying not to be heard from outside the office, “fuck” you repeated quietly, your grip loosening from his hair as his ministrations slowed and your breathing steadied.

“How’s your stress now?” he smirked, wiping his mouth casually before standing up in front of you once more

“You can’t do that” you said, small pants escaping your lips, making Freddie believe you less than you intended

“I think I can” he teased

“I was on a business call, Fred!” you exclaimed, pulling your leggings back up, “what if they heard something?”

“They would only hear something if you let them” he countered and, ultimately, you knew he was right but you still shook your head

“You can’t do that” you repeated and he scoffed, hovering over you once more to taunt you with a kiss but stopped right in front of your lips

“We’ll see about that...” he smirked, taking his hands away from the chair and walking back to sit on the couch

“What’s goin’ on with you?” you asked

“I just want to be with you,” he whined, giving you puppy dog eyes and earning a scoff from you, “that’s what we were supposed to be doing anyway...”

“I told you we would when I got home...” you said

“Come here,” he said, patting his thigh, “come sit on my lap” you chuckled but obliged. You wrapped your arms around his neck after sitting on his thigh, playing with his hair and kissing his nose before he spoke again, “see, isn’t this better than making a few phone calls?” he asked, his hand beginning to rub your back lightly

“You know I would rather be doing this, or more than this, with you,” you admitted, leaning in and kissing him softly, letting your lips linger a moment before you pulled back, “but I have to do this stuff...”

“Just a quickie...” he whispered, “and then I’ll go. Then we can pick up at home”

“This is my boss’s office” you whined

“All the more reason to do it. We’re in a private spot, secluded from everyone else, it’s perfect” he replied, kissing your jaw before moving down to your neck and you let your head fall back to give him more room

“Mmmm,” you hummed, melting into his kiss, “I can’t”

“(Y/N)...“ he groaned

“Just a few more calls,” you argued, “I don’t have a lot left. Just like, five, maybe six”

“That’s a lot. How long are each of those calls? 10 minutes? 20?” he asked, “we could do a lot with that time...”

“Stop,” you smiled, standing up from his lap and walking back to the desk chair, “just a few more calls...” you repeated. He slunk into the couch and angrily unlocked his phone while you picked up Laura’s phone and began dialing. You were able to make three calls before Freddie began sighing loudly across the room and you had to glare at him, which is when the texts started

“I want you” he sent as you spoke to another advertising partner on the phone

“Like now” another came through

“I’m gonna come over there”

“And make you cum again” you glared up at him and he smiled

“And again” you shook your head, turning off your sound so the partner didn’t hear the constant dinging

“And again”

“Until you can’t cum anymore” you noticed him smile as he thought up more responses and you threw a pencil at him, still paying attention to the conversation on the phone before mouthing ‘stop’ to Freddie but he just shook his head with a teasing smile

“You won’t be able to walk”

“Your legs will be numb”

“Your chest will be heaving because you can’t catch your breath”

“You’re gonna crave my dick”

“Every time you move”

“You’ll have to physically stop yourself from jumping me in public”

“Because you’re still feeling me inside you” your eyes went wide as you read his messages, heat flooding your face as you ended the call, forcing yourself to dial another number before Freddie could get the upper hand. He slowly made his way to the desk once more and you gulped as you swallowed the saliva that had filled your mouth, Freddie hung up the phone before it ever even really began to ring

“Seriously, don’t...” you whispered, knowing that you were about to break from whatever move he made next

“But I want to” he growled, grazing your nose with his and you started to give in when he walked toward the door, “crap” you thought to yourself when you thought he was about to leave but he was only locking the door

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, “that was unlocked this whole time?!”

“Yeah?” he chuckled

“Freddie! What would have happened if someone walked in earlier?”

“They would’ve gotten a great show” he replied, walking over to you, leaning over you but not doing anything. You took a deep breath before running your hands up his arms, tangling your fingers in his hair before bringing him down to kiss you

“We have to be quick...” you whispered, earning a grin from Freddie before he pulled your leggings off and directed your thighs around his waist so he could pick you up to carry you to the couch. You laughed when he sat down and you fell into him clumsily, “quiet” you shushed him before kissing him slowly and trailing your hands down to his waistband, pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection while his hands lifted your shirt up, stopping to massage your breasts. You heard a laugh outside of the office and stopped what you were doing, “wait,” you whispered, “I think someone’s there” he didn’t listen, kissing your neck and lining himself up with your entrance before bucking his hips to yours; your nails digging into his shoulders to stop yourself from making any sound. His hands gripped your hips as he thrust into you, bringing your attention back to him while your lips found each other in a clumsy rush to muffle the sounds of each other’s moans

“Fuck,” Freddie moaned first, “fuck” you were about to reciprocate his sentiment when the phone rang and your head jerked back in panic

“Shit” you sighed, worry mixing with pleasure as Freddie continued to grip your hips tightly

“Ignore it” he said, kissing your peaked nipple over your shirt before moving a hand to your core, but your head still stayed looking at the ringing phone

“What if it’s her?” you whined, referring to your boss

“Ignore it” he repeated

“What if it’s one of the partners or the vendors? What if it’s one of the really important clients?” you asked, knowing he wouldn’t give any helpful advice other than

“Ignore it” he said once more, pulling your face back to his before kissing you harshly. The phone stopped ringing and you felt a faint sense of peace course through you as you softened the kiss that Freddie had started, your tongue begging for his lips to part, a muffled moan intertwining with his warm breath as it brushed over your exposed neck. Your tongue danced with his for a while as his fingers circled your clit, pressing down on the sensitive flesh every so often

“Fuck” you breathed finally, now beginning to ride him faster, feeling his thighs flex underneath you as he welcomed the sensation of you crashing onto him. “Fuck,” you repeated, “shit, oh my god. Fuck Freddie” you felt your climax build as his lips met your neck, his finger still working on your clit while you rode him harder; the loud ringing of the phone the only thing that brought you back to where you were. “Ugh” you groaned

“Leave it” he groaned back

“Fuck” you sighed, reluctantly ignoring the phone to continue fucking your incredibly broad shoulder boyfriend

“That’s my girl” he smirked, watching you bounce up and down his length

“Fuck, Freddie, I’m gonna cum” you panted, your hands clutching his shirt as your hips began to shake. “Sh-i-it, god fuck! Freddie” you moaned, still trying to be as quiet as possible but knowing that everyone in the office was probably putting on noise cancelling headphones just to try to escape the sounds they were undoubtedly hearing.

“Almost there, baby” Freddie breathed, clutching onto your waist to assist your movements. Fuck, his hands fit so perfectly on your body, you really hated that this had to end so quickly, but that’s what he came here for. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in you”

“Fuck” you breathed, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your body taking over until you and Freddie met your release. Like clockwork, the annoying ringing of the phone appeared and you had to scoff at Freddie while you quickly got dressed

“That was fun,” he smiled, “you sure you don’t wanna go round two?”

“Hello” you greeted, picking up the phone to continue the work you had come to do, “I am so sorry about that. I’m not sure what was happening with the line…”

“So we’ll continue this at my place then?” Freddie teased before and you nodded with wink before shooing him away but not before he kissed you goodbye. You were dreading the walk out of the office if Mason and his team hadn’t left yet but you knew it had to happen sooner or later

“So, should we hire a clean up crew before your boss gets back?” one of the guys teased

“Shut up” you said, hoping your embarrassment didn’t show too clearly

“You do know we put on our headphones as soon as we saw him,” Mason admitted, “we knew there’s no way that he was gonna just show up to say hi”

“He could’ve,” you tried, exhaling when you realized you were never going to fool any of them, “fine. Just, please, don’t rat me out. I just pulled together a miracle in that office and I don’t need Laura finding out about my office sex-capades — I don’t want that to be the reason she fires me. I’m not that girl…”

“We know” another co-worker smirked

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us,” Mason assured, “it’s a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy as far as we’re concerned” you gave him an appreciative smile before heading out to meet Freddie in the parking garage

“Hey” he smiled as you sat in the front seat

“Hi” you replied, leaning over to peck his lips

“Did you get your work done?” he teased

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “it was a miracle but I got it done” he took your hand and brought it to his lips to press a kiss to it

“No more quickies,” he whined, holding your hand for the remainder of the ride, until he needed it for one reason or another, “I need more than that”

“I agree,” you smirked, “now, let’s go home so you can fuck me until I can’t walk

“Yes ma’am.”

#Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen request #Freddie Andersen smut #Frederik Andersen smut #Frederik Andersen request #nhl #hockey #hockey fic #tml #hockey request #masterlist #the other masterlist

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 5, Part 2

“Hey, madam innkeeper: where would you normally have been in the building?”

“……Since when did you get in charge of the investigation?”

As Sherlock took the lead, it seemed Gregson was displeased, but also no longer in the mood to put up a fight.

Hillary sniffed.

“I was always at the reception desk. I’m the only one managing the inn; I don’t have a single employee.”

“In that case, do you remember when these three men came to book their rooms? Or rather, at the time, had there been anyone with burns on their face?”

Sherlock was now diverting the conversation away from the case, instead attempting to verify if there were eyewitness accounts of the other fugitive. However, Gregson responded in a low voice.

“Holmes: it’s not going to work. We also tried asking her when we arrived at the scene back then, but it seems she has a strange policy of protecting her guests’ privacy, so she doesn’t check her guests’ appearances and such too closely.”

It seemed Hillary had heard him whispering, for she spoke up in defiance.

“You know, these parts are full of people with something to hide. I always make sure they pay up, but I don’t do such tactless things as staring people in the face.”

“Tactful, eh……”

Even Sherlock couldn’t stop himself; he cracked a wry grin. He didn’t know if it was an unwritten rule of the slums, but the innkeeper’s response was certainly a little too risky.

Nevertheless, at this point, there was nothing to be gained from laying blame on her. Sherlock continued.

“In that case, when the fire started, were you also at the reception?”

“That’s right. I wanted to stay there until the fire was contained, but a bunch of bobbies dragged me out at the very last moment.”

It seemed the lady possessed a truly dauntless spirit, so much so she had been willing to go down with her inn. That elicited something close to admiration within Sherlock, and he looked over the suspects.

“You mentioned ‘the very last moment’… That means you stayed at the reception until everyone had escaped?”

“Indeed: as the landlady, I have to ensure my guests are safe. Besides these guys, I definitely saw the ones from rooms 102 and 201 escape out the front door.”

“You’re indeed the epitome of a host.”

In his mind, Sherlock added this new piece of information on the guests’ rooms.

Excluding the murder victim, there had been five guests in total.

On the ground floor, rooms 101 (Jerry Dorff) and 102 had been occupied.

On the first floor, rooms 201 and 203 (Mike Myers).

Then on the second floor, room 301 (Bruno Campbell).

As he gathered the respective locations of the guests, the proprietress spoke up.

“Oh yes — earlier, everyone was talking about who had the chance to go up to the second floor, right? You’ll have to rule out Mr Jerry over there: for some reason, he immediately ran outside when the fire began. He seemed the very picture of alarm.”

“Hmm; this man, panicked?”

As far as he was concerned, people were free to run away in any manner they liked. But the gap between that and the taciturn, mysterious man before them made even Sherlock’s expression soften. It seemed Jerry had been strangely embarrassed by that reaction, deliberately clearing his throat.

Then, the detective turned to Gregson.

“Come to think of it, when you were going back upstairs, did you go past anyone? There must’ve been people rushing to escape.”

“I remember that: I passed by Bruno, Mike, and one other guest on the stairs. But is that important somehow?”

“If the killer had been among them, then he must’ve murdered the victim in the short period between the time you went downstairs to check the situation, and the time you returned to the second floor.”

Gregson groaned. “……Of course, that interval feels way too short. It didn’t even take me 30 seconds to go downstairs and back up again. So, that means……”

The locations of the suspects’ rooms. The escape route. The span of time until the victim had been murdered. Putting together all the clues they’d gathered by questioning the people involved, a single answer surfaced of its own accord.

“——It’s impossible for the killer to have gone upstairs and murdered him.”

Sherlock sounded as if he were pronouncing a judgement. Then, Gregson finally got his head around it — just like what a detective’s assistant would’ve done.

——“In that case, how did he murder the man in the room?”

“T-Then, the man in the room — how was he murdered……?”

Once again, the John in his imagination overlapped with Gregson. In theory, this ‘riddle’ had turned into something impossible to solve, and the assistant inspector was wracked with an anguish akin to agony.

However, that was a tale that only applied to ordinary people.

With his singularly transcendent powers of deduction, the consulting detective had already narrowed down two answers to this case.

Truthfully, right now, he could proceed to the solution right away. But for some reason, he didn’t want to do that. Surely, the reason why he was investigating the truth like this, was because he saw the figure of the man before him strenuously racking his brains.

As Gregson continued to despair, Sherlock Holmes placed a hand on his back.

“Gregson, do you have a moment?”

“……What do you want?”

He looked exhausted — but that was a weariness born from his own sense of responsibility, and even Sherlock refused to take a jibe at him now.

Gregson was shouldering a duty as a police inspector, so the detective resolved to use a little discretion.

“I want to talk to you outside for a bit.”

“…………”

Sherlock had said so in a serious tone, and Gregson didn’t put up a fight.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Once they left the inn, an unnerving oppressiveness made their skin prickle: clearly, the locals’ anger had only intensified. Lestrade was trying his best to negotiate with and conciliate them, but it wouldn’t be long before their frustration boiled over.

Yet, even as they were caught in this race against time, Sherlock remained unhurried. On the streets to which filth clung here and there, he began to speak as if they were simply having a chat.

“First off, from the conversation earlier, we’ve eliminated the possibility that the culprit went to room 303 and killed him. As such, we have to consider a different tack.”

“A different tack?”

“What I mean is, the idea that he didn’t attack from the door — rather, the window.”

Sherlock proposed the theory he’d thought up at the start: that the man had been shot from the window. With this idea, they could break free of the ‘riddle’ created by the locked room — the murderer could kill the victim even without going all the way to the second floor.

However, Gregson shrugged in amazement, and explained in an indifferent tone.

“This might dispute the deduction you’re so proud of, but we did look into that as well. Firstly, for this method to work, there must’ve been two men in total: one to start the fire at the inn, and the other to shoot the victim from outside. But hiring another collaborator to silence an accomplice, or settle a falling-out, brings its own share of danger. In addition, in order to shoot his victim, a gunman would minimally have to be at the same height as him. There’s a brothel across the street from the inn, facing its north wall, and with three floors to boot, it fits the bill. But at the time of the murder, there’d been people on its second floor, and no one testified that they heard a gunshot. Hence, that explanation has to be rejected.”

Unusually, the inspector had discussed his view without a hint of his usual thorny attitude.

But Sherlock was adamant. “If that’s the case, then——”

——“If that’s the case, then how about something like this? Sherlock.”

His partner’s voice resounded through his mind. Now, the detective persisted in playing the role of an assistant, raising another idea to the inspector.

“From the street beside the inn, he could’ve aimed at room 303’s window and shot the victim. With that, he wouldn’t have raised suspicions among the people in the brothel.”

“……That’s rather cliché. There were officers outside the inn, so if there’d been someone with a gun outside, they would’ve arrested him long ago. Moreover, the victim collapsed a step away from the room door. If he’d been shot from the window, he would’ve lain there still. Even if he had then used the last of his strength to crawl all the way to the door, with that level of blood loss, it’d be strange that there hadn’t been a trail of blood leading from the window. As I said earlier, as far as I could tell through the keyhole, I didn’t see any marks like that.”

The inspector calmly refuted his theory, and Sherlock made the same troubled face as John always did.

——Then and there, he eliminated one of his two suppositions, and completely saw through the ‘riddle’ of this case.

“Is that so? Then I’m completely at a loss here.”

“Hmm, what’s gotten into you since earlier? ……You kept making deductions that were quite unlike you.”

Gregson had casually said something that, deep down, revealed a glimpse of his recognition of the detective’s ability. Unwittingly, Sherlock broke into a gentle smile.

But just as quickly, he replaced it with the troubled expression required of the fool he was playing. Sherlock put both hands behind his head, and looked up at the sky.

“Hey, Gregson. Somehow, we’ve been talking over and over and getting nowhere; so for a change of pace, how about a quiz?”

“Huh? You purposely brought me all the way outside, for a quiz?!”

Gregson frowned, but Sherlock continued without a care.

“Let’s say there are two children, A and B, and they’re friends. One day, the two of them play catch at a distance of about 20 steps away from one another. But although A can throw the ball to B, B can’t throw it back to A. Why is that so? In case you were wondering, the two of them have the same strength.”

“……Hmm.”

Gregson forgot about his complaints for a moment, and pondered.

“Did B sprain his shoulder?”

“In a quiz like this, that kind of reasoning’s rubbish, isn’t it?”

“There’s a wall between them.”

“Then A couldn’t have thrown the ball over.”

“……Another kid suddenly appeared and stole the ball.”

“You’re being a little careless, aren’t ya?”

It was unclear what the intention behind this quiz was, and to top it off, Sherlock had rejected every one of his answers. At last, Gregson raised his voice.

“Dammit, just tell me the answer already! Also, what’s the point of a quiz like this?!”

“Come on, now,” Sherlock parried. “I’ll give you a hint: for example, try looking at this building here.”

“Hmm……”

The detective pointed to the inn they had just stepped out of. Coincidentally, just like the one that had burnt down, this building also had three floors.

“What about it?”

“Man, you’re still as slow as ever. Look……”

Sherlock pointed to a window on the upper floors, and moved his finger between that and the window below it a few times.

Watching that action, Gregson seemed to have arrived at the answer himself.

“I see. So the children were standing on the upper and lower floors respectively, and leaning out the windows to throw the ball? Although it could be thrown from the floor above to the one below, it would be difficult to throw the ball back up in the other direction. That’s to say, the distance of 20 steps was not lengthwise, but vertical——”

Right then, as if a bolt of electricity had coursed through him, Gregson twitched. His hand shot to his chin; sinking deep into thought, he remained absolutely motionless, with only his lips piecing fragments together into clues.

“There’s only one way…… To be able to kill without going upstairs…… In that case, the position of the body…… And it ending up as a locked room…… But, such an extraordinary method –– is it even possible?”

At his final question, Sherlock grinned.

“I don’t have the foggiest idea what you just thought of…… But when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” [1]

“………!”

Gregson looked at the detective, standing boldly where he was.

Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

That was what he’d always maintained.

A suicide, or an accident. Pretending to be dead. Entering the room and murdering him. A sniper shot from the window. After carefully pursuing all lines of thought, in the end, only this solution remained.

In that case, it had to be the truth.

Could it be, that he’d started this entire conversation in order to guide him here……?

“……Hmph.”

At that thought, Assistant Inspector Gregson reassumed his usual, haughty attitude: the manner of a police inspector who saw the detective as his enemy.

“Let’s go, Holmes. I’ll tell you what I’ve deduced.”

——This is my case.

As Gregson strode away triumphantly, Sherlock chuckled.

T/N: Sherlock has grown so much..! (my /heart/)

Footnotes:

[1] A quote from Chapter 6 of the Sherlock Holmes novel The Sign of the Four, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (Wikipedia)

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows

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renjunbae · 3 years

Text

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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#renjunbae's works #resonancebeach #resonancebeachcollab #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct #nct 127 #jungwoo #fem!reader #romance

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Sweatpants SZN (Miguel Edition)

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader (Reader used from Wild Child)

Summary: The reader gets the rare sight of Miguel in sweatpants

Warnings: Smut, knife play, a lil violence

A/N: Shoutout to @thesandbeneathmytoes sending me this video that inspired this fic.

“Marcus, where’s my husband?” You just gotten back from work and were eager to see Miguel. “He’s downstairs training with Nestor, Mrs. Galindo.” When you heard the word training, you took off and ran for the gym, Marcus’ laugh getting fainter with each step you take.

The reason for your Usain Bolt run was that it wasn’t often that you got to see Miguel train aka see him in gray sweatpants. He only wore them when he was in the gym because he didn’t consider them proper loungewear (like he has time to lounge anyway).

You got there out of breath, but you were there just in the nick of time. Miguel was sparring with Nestor in the ring. As the boss, there was no need for your husband to get his hands dirty but he always needed to stay sharp. It was a great turn on to see him this way. Primal, swift, and strong. An alpha.

He was keeping up with Nestor which was no easy feat. That man was military trained and a top-notch killer. “Alright, good job Mikey.” Nestor patted his friend on the back and jumped out the ring. “Y/N,” he acknowledges you on his way out.

“You’re either getting slow or he’s getting good,” you nudged him the ribs. “Watch yourself.” He nudged you back and ruffled your hair.

“Mi amor.” He came out of the ring and kissed you. “Nestor’s getting slow or I’m getting good? I don’t know if I should be insulted or proud.”

“How was your day,” you ignored his comment and changed the subject. Miguel smirked at you, knowing you were avoiding the subject of his fighting capabilities. “Actually good, Agro project moving on and the other world is quiet.”

Miguel kept talking, but you weren’t listening. You would give the mandatory ‘mmhmm’ and look in his eyes for a bit, but your eyes always made it back to his dick. It really was a shame he wouldn’t wear the sweats more often. Or maybe it was a good thing, because nothing would get done if he did.

“Baby,” Miguel lifted your chin with two of his fingers. “My eyes are up here.”

“I know that.” You pulled away, feeling a bit of shame at being caught. “They’re just sweats. Nothing special. I don’t get why you get all hot and bothered.”

“Same reason you bend me over when I wear those green shorts,” you whispered in his ears as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But they make your ass looks so delicious.”

“And these,” you gripped his dick, “makes you your dick look scrumptious. Makes me want to slurp it like an icee.”

“Mujer tonta (Silly woman), anyway how was your day?” You tried, you honestly did, but you couldn’t continue talking to your husband without looking at his crotch. Miguel was tired of it, so he decided to get your attention. He swung at you, knowing your reflexes were quick.

Blocking his punch with your forearm, you threw your own only for him to block it. “So that’s how its gonna be?” You kicked off your heels and threw off your suit jacket. “Si, let’s see if Nestor is getting slow or if I’m getting good.” Smiling you circled around Miguel, planning your attack. “I’m putting my money on Nestor getting slow.”

Your tactic, wait Miguel out. Being weaker than Miguel meant that you had to use his body as leverage. “Come on, Miguelito. Show me those killer moves,” you taunted him.

At first, Miguel got a couple of licks in. He was definitely getting better, but you wouldn’t let him know that. Spinning your leg around, you went to kick him, but Miguel caught it. “Really, honey? You go for that every time.”

“Hmm, you’re right.” Using your free leg, you swiped Miguel’s leg from under causing him to fall on the mat. Quickly, you got on top of him. “Pinned ya again,” you smiled down at him.

Miguel couldn’t be mad that you bested him, because the view he got was breathtaking. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” He stroked your cheek. “Hmmm, I believe you told me when I was on my lunch break.”

“That was too long ago, so I’m gonna tell you again. The moon, the stars, the universe couldn’t contain my love for you.” Leave it to Miguel Galindo, ruthless businessman and cartel boss to make you all soft and gooey inside. “I love you too, Senor Galindo, but if you wanted pussy all you had to do was ask.”

Miguel laughed as he pulled you down to kiss him. The kiss started off innocently, but as it went on it gained heat and you began grinding on Miguel. His hands went for the buttons of your blouse, but than Nestor ran in. “Nestor no!” You pointed at the man to leave and take whatever bad news with him.

“Sorry, Y/N/N. Mikey, it’s an emergency.” Nestor informed Miguel and then left, not wanting to see anything explicit between you two.

Pushing Miguel’s shoulder, you picked up your discarded shoes and jacket. “You just had to jinx it.”

“What?” He asked, somewhat jogging to the room so he could shower quickly. “Earlier you said there was no problems in the other world and now look there’s a problem.”

Miguel pulled you by the hips and smirked down at you. “So, you were listening?”

“Of course, I was listening. I can multitask. Now shower so you can leave and come home faster.” Miguel followed your orders and promptly left the house, making you promise not to stay up for him.

Boredom struck. The boys were helping out with Miguel, so you couldn’t go to the clubhouse and hang with them. You already visited Felipe, so you didn’t want to bother him. Your girl friends all had their own boos to snuggle up to and you weren’t in the mood for tv. What you were in the mood for though was teasing.

Typically, you wouldn’t tease Miguel when he had a work emergency, but your body was still revved up from early. A little teasing wouldn’t hurt. Quickly you shed your frumpy clothes and put on the green booty shorts Miguel loved, a white lacy bra, and halfway zipped hoodie. Standing in your full body mirror, you took a couple of photos until you were satisfied with them.

Sifting through the photos, you finally choose the winner and sent it to Miguel. He responded quicker than you expected him to.

Miguelito: What is wrong with you? I’m working!

You: I just wanted to show you what you have waiting for you at home. It was a onetime thing.

Miguelito: Well, now I’m unsuccessfully hiding a hardon from your friends.

When Miguel told you that you switched to the group chat and threatened your friends.

You: Leave my husband alone or you can’t come over for Sunday dinner.

Coco: My bad!

Angel: Damn that’s cold!

Gilly: Angel started it!

Angel: Snitch!

You: Children. I’m friends with children.

You left the men alone, knowing they had work to do.

That text held you over for a couple of hours, but boredom hit you once again. One more picture couldn’t hurt, and it would be less harmless. Taking a lollipop out of the candy dish, you unwrapped it and placed it in your mouth suggestively, taking selfies of the lower half of your face.

You: Last one, I promise.

Miguelito: You don’t know how to fucking listen. Wait til I get home.

Hoe well, you thought and didn’t bother to respond.

Soon, you found entertainment elsewhere making time fly by. You were sitting on the island swinging your legs while eating cookies and cream ice cream when Miguel finally came home. “Didn’t I tell you not to wait up?”

“Yup,” you emphasized the ‘p’, licking your spoon clean. “But when do I ever listen?”

“True,” Miguel took the spoonful of ice cream and put in his mouth. “Hey, that’s mines!” The thief didn’t care. He kept on eating your ice cream like it was his.

Enough was enough. Grabbing one of the kitchen knives you swiped at Miguel, but he dodged it. “You sure you want to do this, sweetheart?” Miguel grabbed a knife of his own and twirled it around. “Yeah, we both know you’ll end up on your back with me pinning you again.”

“You’re too cocky, mi amor.” Miguel swiped at you and your knives clashed. The two of you fought throughout the kitchen. If you weren’t busy protecting yourself, you would’ve admired your man, but right now he was the enemy and you had to kick to his ass.

Miguel was gaining on you. You didn’t expect him to have this kind of energy after the day he had. He should’ve been more tired than this. Maybe he is actually getting better.

Using a random kitchen towel, you tried to twist the knife out of Miguel’s hand, but he must’ve been hitting the weights because his arm wouldn’t budge. With his other hand he twisted your arm, taking your knife and holding in under your hair in the back while his is at your throat.

For awhile both of you stood there, staring at each other. Miguel with smugness and victory and you with shock and lust. “You should’ve known better, mi amor. Knives aren’t your strongest suit, you should’ve stuck to guns.”

“I guess you are getting better.”

The knife Miguel had to your throat was lightly trailing your skin. Your breath quickened as the metal went down to your clavicle and to your chest. Miguel cut through your bra, shorts, and underwear. “Hey!”

“Shut up,” Miguel backed you into the counter. “I’ll buy you more.” He dropped both knives and caressed your body with his hands instead. “So beautiful,” he stroked the edge of your hair with his pinky. “My little wild child of a wife. What am I gonna do with you?”

Pulling the collar of his shirt, you bent Miguel down to kiss you. “Whatever you want, my dear husband.”

“Whatever?” He raised his eyebrows at you and backed away to the refrigerator. “Whatever.” You leaned back and spread your legs wide open to expose your dripping folds.

Miguel took an ice cube and crunched it in his mouth. His cold kiss on your shoulder caused you to hiss at the beautiful sting it caused on your body. “I really should punish you for those pictures earlier, but I got this beautiful body in front of me and now I want you crying from my cock. Do you want that, baby?” Miguel tugged on your bottom lip while he scissored two fingers inside of you.

“God, yes,” you groaned, throwing your head back. “Look at you,” He drew out his fingers from you, your stick essence clinging them together. “So needy and desperate because some of goddamn sweatpants. You’re my little slut, huh?”

“Yes, Miguel.”

“Uh huh,” he seized up your neck. “Wrong name.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Better,” he harshly grabbed you by the neck and kissed you. Eager to get things moving along, you started unbuckling Miguel’s belt and pushing down his slacks.

“Clam down.” Miguel ordered you when you groaned when he had to stop kissing you to take off his shirt. “Can’t even stop touching you without you having a damn fit.”

Kissing along his neck, you dug your fingers in his hair. “I can’t help it, daddy. I’m your little slut.”

“Damn right,” Miguel growled, slamming into you. “So, fucking tight. You were made for me.” Miguel was fucking you just like he was fighting with you earlier. Sharp, precise, and fast. This time he was hitting his target, making sure you felt every little thing.

“Daddy, please,” the tears were running down your face. It was too much too fast. “Daddy please what?” Miguel mocked you, leaning his forehead against yours. “Its getting too much for you?” He led you into a false sense of security, because in your drunk state you thought you could push him away. Miguel took your offending hand and twisted it behind your back. “See, that’s not what you’re gonna do. You’re not gonna run from this dick after you were acting like a damn fiend today.”

“But daddy,” you tried to kiss Miguel, but he pulled away and darkly chuckled at you. “That’s not nice, daddy.” You pouted, disappointed that Miguel denied you a kiss.

“It wasn’t nice when you doubted daddy’s fighting skills today. It wasn’t nice when you sent those pictures knowing I had a work emergency.” Once again, Miguel wrapped his hand around your throat but with much more pressure. “Actually,” he whispered in your ear like you two weren’t in the comfort of your home. “I’m quite merciful,” he slowed down significantly, making you feel the drag of his dick and miss it when he pulls out all the way. “I’m allowing you the pleasure on my cock, but I need one thing from you.”

“Wha- wh- wha- what is that?” You stumbled over the words, ready to do whatever your man says.

“Beg.” He enunciated perfectly, still keeping up with his slow pace. The thought to say no crossed your mind. Oh, how you loved to but the need to cum was overwhelming and you could always act up later and lure him into thinking you were going to be compliant for the night. This was just the first of many rounds for the night. “Daddy, pretty please let me cum on your beautiful cock.”

“There’s my good girl.” Miguel smiled and kissed you as he pulled you closer to drill into you. His name left your mouth repeatedly like a fervent prayer.

“Keep squeezing me just like that.” He panted in your ear, grabbing a handful of ass.

“Fuck. Fill me up, let me make you a real daddy.” Miguel came to a complete stop. “You’re serious?”

Cupping his face, you gave him a million little kisses. “Yes. I wanna make my daddy a daddy.” Expanding your family has been weighing on your mind heavily lately. Baby fever was getting to you and you couldn’t wait anymore to have some with Miguel.

Miguel snapped his hips into yours, resuming his brutal pace. “You’re gonna look exquisite with carrying my babies.” He whispered softly, contradicting from how hard he was fucking you. “You’re not working though.” He added, knowing you were just as much as a workaholic as he was.

“Debatable.” You weren’t about to get into this argument with Miguel while he was balls deep in you and you weren’t even pregnant yet.

“You can never just agree with me, can you?” Miguel didn’t give you a chance to answer, he just went harder of that was even possible. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll fuck it out of you tonight.”

You couldn’t do much, but you managed to roll your eyes. Good luck with that, you thought.

Miguel bit into your shoulder. “A fucking brat until the end.” He pummeled into you, triggering your release and his.

Both of you stood or rather Miguel stood there with you wrapped around him, covered in sweat. Kissing the spot where he bit you, he asked, “You were serious right? That wasn’t just heat of the moment dirty talk?”

“Yeah I’m ready to start a family…well only if you are.” You quickly added, suddenly nervous that Miguel changed his stance on kids. “Of course, I am,” he smacked your ass. “I get to tame your wild ass down.”

“Never! Imma have a mini-me and we’re gonna run you ragged,” you cackled, thinking of all the ways of you and your future child will terrorize Miguel.

“Typical.” Miguel shook his head as he walked the both of you to the bedroom. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Let me slurp you like an icee?” You bat your eyelashes at him. The corner of his mouth ticked before he rolled his tongue around. “Yeah something like that.”

Welp, looks like you were about to get that punishment.

Tagging: @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @starrynite7114 @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jassydwill11 @otomefromtheheart @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

#black!reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fandom #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Now It's an Entire Swap

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Kuina Hikari, Mira Kano (Briefly), Hatter, Morizono Aguni

Genre: Crack. Somehow even worse (better?) than the last one. They're really going for it now.

1.4k words

AKA Part 2 of Hair Day. It's just gotten way more weirder than ever, and it was just on my mind the entire time. Just.... ' How far would these two get?'

Well apparently it meant stealing each other's clothes and being them for a day. There were probably a whole lot more interactions I could have done for the day, but alas.

Niragi watches as Chishiya approaches him, carrying a bag in his left hand. Since two days ago, Niragi’s been keeping an eye on the man as Chishiya went around with his old hairstyle, his own still delightfully bleached blond and kept in the same style as Chishiya’s usual hair. People still did double takes upon seeing him, and maybe it held true for Chishiya as well, but Niragi didn’t care what anyone thought of the sudden change. All he cared about was making sure Chishiya didn’t go ahead and re-dye his hair so soon, keeping a careful eye on him.

Sure, it was a little stalkerish, but it was for a good reason.

Chishiya dumps the bag at Niragi’s feet, Niragi looking down to look at the small opening the bag allowed. “ What’s this?”

“ Well if you’re going to steal my hair, I might as well steal your life for a day.” Chishiya briefly explains, and he walks away without any further explanation, Niragi raising an eyebrow. He kneels down and opens the opaque bag some more, his lips curling at the white mass chilling inside.

“ Is this a joke…?” Niragi reaches in and pulls out the outfit, recognizing it as Chishiya’s favourite jacket, or at the very least copy of it, as well as swimming shorts that matched Chishiya’s. Niragi looks back towards where Chishiya had disappeared towards, and scoffs. “ So be it then.”

He puts the clothes back inside the bag and stands up, taking it and heading back up to his room. He starts stripping once he gets inside, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside. Next came his shoes and pants, and he pulls out the two articles of clothing back out of the bag. There were sandals included inside, Niragi leaving those for last as he slips on the shorts. They were somehow a perfect fit on him, not at all as small as Niragi was expecting them to be. “ So the mayo man got me accurately fitting clothing, hm?” Niragi pulls on the jacket and quickly retracts his earlier statement, staring at his exposed wrist. Curse him for not bothering to get a proper jacket for him.

Still, Niragi wasn’t about to back down from the supposed life swap challenge, slipping on the other sleeve and zipping it up. It definitely was just some spare jacket, the bottom barely meeting with the shorts with his arms extending outwards. Niragi drops his arms and tugs the jacket down as far as he could before moving to the sandals and sliding them on. They were also about the correct size, if not just slightly smaller but still manageable. Humming, Niragi walks around to make sure, catching sight of his rifle.

“ Well…. as much as I’d like to….” Niragi sighs, and tucks the thing into his bed. “ If Chishiya wants whatever this weird role-play shit, then he’s gonna get it.”

Niragi spots Chishiya by the militants a few minutes later, a few loudly questioning and gesturing to Chishiya. Or, from the back, a much smaller him. Niragi couldn’t help but snort at the obvious sheer size of his shirt on Chishiya’s much smaller frame, or the fact that Chishiya was toting around a massive super soaker instead of the real deal, as if he was still semi-aware that he could be killed despite taking on Niragi’s aesthetics.

Niragi didn’t think this was much of a punishment for his hair thievery in the slightest, sauntering away. Just his face still kept people from coming too close, and the talk about him was near pleasurable for him. His reputation continues to precede him at least.

“ Hey! You, slow down, geez-“ A female voice catches Niragi’s attention, and he turns his head to see that lady Chishiya was occasionally by every so often, although Niragi didn’t bother with her too much, down to her name. She catches up to him, her eyes quickly scanning him before she lets out a sigh. “ I really can’t believe you agreed.”

“ Yeah? What’s it to you, huh?”

The lady folds her arms, letting out a sigh and chews on the stick hanging out of her mouth for a bit. Niragi was about to turn and leave her there when her hand reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder, Niragi whipping around and slapping the hand off. She recoils, but otherwise was unperturbed, looking at him with a hint of displeasure. “ Okay listen. Chishiya told me that since you stole his hair he was going to….. apparently take over a day of just being you, saying that…” She pauses. “ Well, that’s not important right now. What is important is to ’sell’ this, is that I have to follow you.”

Niragi blinks, raising his eyebrow and unconsciously flicking his tongue across his lips, leaning onto one leg. “ Why, does the toilet bowl not trust me?”

“ I wouldn’t trust you with a barrel of green tea left in your care, so you can figure out what Chishiya’s opinion is. Look, we can do this peacefully, no violence required, okay?” She extends a hand as if it were a peace offering, Niragi staring down at the hand.

“ Yeah, uh….. no. I do what I want, cinnamon stick.” He turns and walks away, said cinnamon stick’s footsteps coming up behind him.

“ Rude, but I really can’t expect anything else from you, wig snatcher.”

Niragi ignores her, although he didn’t bother to push her away today either. She was at least mindful of their positions, and kept her distance as she should.

It wasn’t long until she invited him to at least watch a movie with her, Niragi agreeing since he was technically absolved from doing his patrols for the day.

( Niragi wasn’t allowed to in any way touch her, and the one time he tried he got his toes crushed by her foot, so he had to behave the rest of the movie. Not worth it, in his opinion.)

Even at the meeting nobody really mentioned the sudden switch, although Niragi swore he thought he saw Mira’s smile become a little wider, and her eyes glitter in interest at the two. Hatter had to do a double take at the two, before sidetracking into what they were up to this time. Chishiya, surprisingly enough, just sticks his tongue out at Hatter like Niragi would’ve done, and Niragi had to suppress a laugh when he caught a glimpse of a stain on Chishiya’s tongue.

“ Oh my fucking goodness, did you seriously eat a fruit roll-up with those tongue tattoos before this?!” Niragi howls, bursting into uncontrolled laughter. Chishiya slips his tongue back in and just smirks. Aguni shakes his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, Hatter just watching and waiting with amusement.

It takes a while before Niragi finally reins in his laugh, and that was only because one of Hatter’s pretty boy kimono men handed him water to calm the fuck down. Hatter grins, clapping his hands together.

“ Well, either way, this is an absolute rollercoaster that we’re all seeing today, aren’t we. One day I’m greeted with a hair swap, and the next you two are becoming each other! Aren’t you just… two peas in a pod?”

“ Tch, no. I’d rather burn.”

Chishiya glances at Niragi for a second, his lips curling ever so slightly in disgust. “ Not to be rude, but I decline that as well. I’d rather be shot instead. This is merely payback.”

“… How though.” Aguni questions. Chishiya turns his attention to the man, and leans back casually.

“ Because it leaves him practically defenceless in order to be me. Me, on the other hand….” Chishiya gestures to the super soaker lain on the table. “ Have temporary access. Even if this is merely a substitute.”

“ I will strangle you in your sleep anyways, you naked chicken nugget.”

Chishiya doesn’t react to the threat, Niragi glaring at him. Hatter looks between the two of them, then smacks his hand against the table a few times to get the meeting back to focus on him.

“ Like I said last time, grab a martini or something you two. Now, as much as I love a good drama and an enemies to lovers trope, we have to get back to real matters-“

Niragi huffs, leaning back slightly as Hatter starts his usual spiel. His glances couldn’t help but look towards Chishiya every so often, just glaring him down. Occasionally he’d lock eyes with him, Niragi smirking and miming random ways that Niragi could murder him with his bare hands.

If anyone else was watching their little act, they certainly didn’t bring it up. At the very least it kept Niragi occupied long enough.

The moment it was done, Hatter simply watches the two leave the meeting with a little more haste than he’s ever seen, and he leans towards Aguni. “ Think they’re gonna fuck it out with a nice martini?”

“…. Beats me.”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #kuina hikari #hatter #takeru danma #mira kano #morizono aguni #sorry kuina you don't even get a name in this #that last interaction sentence is ness' fault you got me thinking about them doing the do #yes somehow hair swap evolved into a whole outfit swap it's just how it progressed #everyone just has to roll with whatever bullshit happens there every day this is tame really-#yes they specifically are wearing each others tops the other pieces are sized up correctly to a point but the shirt and jacket? Swapped.#yes chishiya ate one of those candies that stained his tongue just to mock niragi's tongue piercing #he also stuck rhinestones on his face I just don't mention them

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ starting prompt: based off a tweet i saw that said ‘we always kinda shipped them together. he kept scoffing that he didn’t like her and yet he always look at her first when someone made a joke to see if she was laughing too’.

♡ pairing: walter hahn (WWE / NXT) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination. take a look and you’ll see into your imagination. i’ll be begin with a spin....”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

"who’s that?” Walter asked his blond friend. Marcel looked up to see you, headphones in and blaring music so loud that everyone was able to hear. “oh, that’s ( your name ). she’s Timothy’s-,” before he could finish the sentence, Timothy came up to you and gave you a quick hug, “that’s his manager. she also works in the front office,” he continued.

Walter’s eyebrows went down in confusion. never in the time that they were together in RingKampf had he ever took interest in having a manager and from the looks of it, you were the exact opposite of Tim. from afar, you were bubbly, excitable, and cute.

Tim was nothing of the sort. polar opposites one might say.

you were sitting in your seat as Tim was eating lunch. dancing to whatever you were listening, Walter couldn’t help but laugh at your antics. he knew Tim like the back of his hand so the decision to make you his manager was either his doing or something that was out of his hand.

“she’s....interesting,” he said under his breath, making Marcel look at him for a moment, “any particular reason why you’re so interested in her? she’s been his manager for a while now,” Marcel put in. Walter shook his head, deciding not to respond.

you were Tim, watching as he scarfed down his dinner while you finished up a few papers that needed to get done for next weeks taping. you were supposed to be dressed and ready to go by six but because of Tim’s new storyline with the boys from Imperium, you had to figure out a few things before the match.

Timothy was a bit hard headed at first, stating that he didn’t need a manager but after a while, he got used to having you around. you were almost like a pest that he cared about like a sister.

“hey, your friends are over there! why don’t you say hi!” you exclaimed, seeing Walter, Fabian, and Marcel in a corner, speaking to each other, “no. we’re not supposed to be speaking with each other,” was all he said before continuing to eat.

you huffed before scooting out of your chair, “well, I’m going to say hello. since we’re going to be working with each other, I guess it’s only right to get formalities out of the way,” you stated, making Tim’s eyes go wide in panic.

he instantly tried to get you to come back but by the time he tried to reach for you to come back, you were already prancing over to them.

“hi!” you exclaimed happily. Fabian, the friendliest of the bunch gave you a smile, “i’m ( your name )! Tim’s manager. it’s nice to meet all of you!” you introduced yourself, giving them your hand to shake.

Fabian introduced himself, giving you a hug instead. Marcel on the other hand just took the handshake and murmured his name to you. Walter remained looking at you, not bothering to say anything outside of giving you a simple head nod.

to the untrained eye, like yourself and others, Walter’s reaction was a given. he was never a man of many words yet to the boys and Tim, they could see that Walter was holding himself back. almost like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

you giving Walter a smile, one that would’ve made anyone fall for you but he just turned his head to another direction and started to speak to Marcel in German. you gave Fabian a confused look, wondering why he didn’t tell you much but you felt a hand clasp onto your shoulder a second after.

“evening boys,” Tim’s voice spoke from behind you. you gave him another look, wondering why he went back on his word from earlier, “they’re looking for you in makeup and they’re pissed,” he whispered into your ear.

your eyes widened, realizing you were beyond late to get your makeup done. you gave them a quick goodbye, shoving your work into Tim’s hands and screaming at him to put it into your office before basically darting off to the makeup station.

Tim, Fabian, Marcel, and now Alex who had shown up looked at Walter with suspecting eyes. no one said a word but Tim could sense Walter had taken an infatuation with you.

a few weeks passed since your encounter with Walter and the rest of Imperium. since you were working 'against’ them now, outside of the ring, you got a bit close to Marcel and Alex. they would invite you to sit next to them when Tim wasn’t with you.

you tried to get closer with Walter but he always closed you off. he would say absolutely nothing to you and when had too, it wasn’t anything besides a few words. at first you thought that maybe you just annoyed him to the point where he didn’t like you but eventually, Tim told you that he was just that way with anyone that didn’t know him.

“good morning to my favorite Germans!” you said, running up to Marcel and Alex, engulfing them into a forced hug. they stood stiff, basically embracing the forced hug, “and Walter!” you added on, giving him a brief wave.

“where’s your boyfriend?” Alex asked, looking around. you fluttered your eyebrows in confusion, “boyfriend? wanna tell me who that is?” you asked. Marcel gave you a hearty laugh, “Tim. he’s asking for Timothy,” he stated.

you let out a laugh, louder than you intended as you sat down next to Walter and Alex, “Tim? my boyfriend? that’s like saying it’s gonna snow in Florida. never going to happen,” you joked, trying to calm down your giggles. “very defensive about it, aren’t ya?” Alex added on.

“people love the idea that we’re secretly together but Timothy is like an annoying brother. I love him but I wanna kick his ass 90% of the time. the other 10 is caring that he doesn’t get killed by you guys.”

before you could continue, you heard a producer call your name, telling you that you were needed to clear up a few things for Hunter. you told them goodbye and went over to the producer.

“so she’s single, huh?” Alex said, tapping his chin. Marcel looked at him, “why do you care?” he asked. Alex shrugged, “now that we know maybe this idiot will ask her out,” he mentioned.

Marcel let out a laugh as Walter stared at him annoyed, “yeah right. he actually has to make conversation first and he can’t even do that with her. I’ve been hearing a few people have been interested in asking her out. not that she knows or anything,” Marcel said quietly.

he actually had no idea if anyone was interested in you or not. personally, he could have cared less but he knew his best friend better than anyone else. Walter liked you, he was just too much of a chicken shit to actually admit to it.

“who?” Walter asked almost immediately. Marcel closed the circle in, “for starters, in the NXT roster is Jordan Devlin and Sami Zayn from Smackdown has been rumored to have gotten her number,” Marcel lied. Alex perked at the names, “and how did you find out?” he asked, a bit suspicious that he knew.

Marcel shrugged, not bothering to say anything for a moment, “oh, just heard a few of the girls talking yesterday while I was working out,” Walter stared at the table, his mind racing with thoughts. he never knew others actually had taken an interest in you, not that it was wrong to do as such but he was taken back that it was more than one person.

“what has you so quiet all of a sudden?” Walter shook his head, not responding as he got up, taking his jacket with him and leaving the table. “I wonder what his problem is,” Alex murmured. Marcel laughed, “he’s finally going to grow a pair and ask her out,” Marcel stated.

you were working in your office, sorting through a few different files you needed for a storyline in the women’s division. it was already late into the night as you filed the sheets away and started to get your things ready to leave.

“of course this week had to be my busiest week, now I have to call an Uber home,” you groaned. you had put your car in the shop because of a few issues it had and it wasn’t expected to get finished until at least Monday, “god damn it Tim, you just had to leave,” you huffed.

just as you pulled your phone out, you saw Walter walking out of the locker room, “hey Walter! what are you doing here so late?” you asked, trying not to make it awkward, “I stayed working out late,” he said.

you nodded, “ah, don’t overwork yourself now,” you mentioned, “but give me a second? I need to call an Uber home. my car is stuck at the mechanics until Monday and Tim already left,” Walter’s eyes widened, realizing this was his chance.

“I have a car, I can take you home?” he asked, trying not to come off as intimidating. you perked up in relief, “really? that would be so amazing!” you said happily. he grabbed his keys and jiggled them, “my cars on the other side of the building,” he said.

you followed behind, trying to make conversation and interestingly enough, he was actually responding to you like a normal person would. not those snippets of conversations he would say around the others.

the entire ride home, you were trying to crack jokes, seemingly trying to make him laugh which ended in you making an idiot out of yourself and making him laugh that way instead. Walter had never realized he actually liked you as much as the others would joke he did but now that it was just the two of you, he could sense the feelings were there.

the ride to your house was a bit on the shorter side. you lived in a small two bedroom house, closer to Full-Sail than he thought. just as he put the car into park to let you get out, you turned around and gave him a smile, making Walter glad that it dark outside and you weren’t able to see his sudden red face.

“I know this is weird but would you like to come in? I have food I made for myself this morning after I came from work and I’m sure there’s enough for you.”

Walter sighed in relief.

“I would love too.”

#wwe #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #nxt #nxt uk #nxt imagine #wrestling #wrestling imagine #walter #walter hahn #walter hahn imagine #walter x reader #nxt uk imagine #imperium #marcel barthel #timothy thatcher #fabian aichner #alexander wolfe

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dearest-kibble · 4 years

Note

yan kenma who has you locked up in his apartment- it’s been some time and you’ve given up escaping but you know he live-streams so you kind of start living small clues that you’re there in hope someone will figure it out? but instead of a viewer kenma finds out; and instead of stopping you he just decides to taunt you and play along to the point his viewers make it an inside joke- the emotional rollercoaster that would be? he wouldn’t have to punish you- the crushing despair is enough alone

This is so deliciously fucked up I love it,,, thank you anon, Kenma hits so different. I love him thank you so so so much. i am working on so much,,, thank you for being patient with all my uhhh lateness? this kinda became something a little different than the prompt but hopefully thats good?

Kenma Kozume x Fem reader

tw: Typical yandere-ness, humiliation? Sexism? Mentioned stalking, (If im missing anything please let me know my brain isn’t functioning rn)

You’re sitting on his lap, camera angled so that no one’s view is obstructed by your body, but so that all his views can clearly see you. You’ve been here so long, any hope of leaving, ironically, has left you. But, the thought crept slowly, surely, deeply into your brain and hasn’t left. You turn around on Kenma’s lap, straddling him and you’re sure the live chat is going a little crazy at the thought of Kodzuken having someone in his lap while he streams and he’s probably going to tell you to get off soon, but you’ve got the chat’s attention, and you are going to work with it. You tap Kenma’s cheeks, slight squish on them and you know he hates that it’s on camera all the same, you drum three fingers on his cheek, smiling at him for the camera as your fingertips meet his clammy skin. He doesn’t tell you to stop so across his cheek you swipe your thumb three times as tenderly as possible. As you stand from his lap, you pat his cheeks, three times delicately. You look into his eyes, still as calculating as when you met him, a deceptively warm amber with the tiniest hint of frustration (and somewhere inside, you know it’s probably with you but you can’t care.)

“I’m gonna sit on the couch, ‘kay?” You call softly, hoping you were subtle enough with your plea.

“Oh, okay,” And you think you’re free before he calls a “Wait! Come back for a little.” You’re even halfway to the couch before the words rope you back in. He beckons you to lean down, and whispers into your ear. “I noticed you trying to sign to get out. Morse code isn’t as subtle as you think, you might as well just ask them to get you out,” You chance a quick look towards chat.

“Was that morse code?”

“Holy shit! Yeah, I think that was SOS.”

“You think they actually need to get out or it’s one of those ‘my bfs terrible’ jokes?”

“You see the way they were straddling? Def not a hate my bf sorta thing.”

“See?” He’s still whispering into your ear, game forgotten in lieu of what might be called humiliation. “They won’t believe you because you want to be here. Regardless of what you say, you would’ve left already if you didn’t.” He smiles at you and affectionately pats your head. Like he’d pet a cat. The idea is still in your mind, though perhaps a little shallower. You glance at the chat once more, someone is still talking about it, but Kenma pushes you away with a “I’ll get you when I’m done, okay?” You end your night on the couch with Kenma. He smiles at you and puts your legs on his lap.

The next livestream is two days after the last one. You have something planned once more, hopefully more effective.

“I’m playing minecraft today, I could set up your computer, and we could play together?” His small smile is back. And though a kind gesture, all you can think about is how easily you could make a point.

“Okay!” The earlier plan is immediately forgotten, and thoughts of what you could do in a game, fills your mind. “Will I have a mic?”

“No, I can’t have you telling them can I?” And it clicks, because of course he’d taunt you. But it’s like your brain grew claws that cannot lose their hold.

“Will I have a camera?” And you know the answer, but Kenma might still surprise you. You’ve already had one shock tonight, maybe you’ll get another.

“No. Sorry. You have chat though.” He pats your head again, ruffling your hair. “I’ve already got you set up, c’mon.” He tugs at your hand, pulling gently.

“Thanks Kenma.” He’s put another computer across from his desk on a much smaller table made for playing cards.

“You’re all set up.”

“Yeah.” He clicks the mouse a few times, waves at the camera to his right. “Can everybody hear me?” He waits a few seconds for chat’s response. “Chat is saying yes, so let’s get right in?” He smiles sheepishly to his camera.

“Hi everyone, I’ m Kodzuken and today we are,” He pauses to look at you with honeyed amber eyes. “Playing Minecraft with my partner.” He nods in your direction. You just open the minecraft tab, the only shortcut that seems to be on the computer.

“It’s a LAN server, click that, okay?” So you click it and say nothing. You start to go through the motions of chopping a tree, making sticks, making a crafting table. Kennma is narrating what he does, and you’re not even sure where he is in game until you're knocked back and turn your mouse to look at him.

“Yeah, I know - she should be relying on me.” He’s responding to something in chat, he’s gotta be. You type a quick,

“What’re they saying?”

“Oh, that my girlfriend shouldn’t be so independent, you rely on me - I'm your boyfriend.” Kenma says it so casually, so acerbically that you immediately take off sprinting from the forest in game.

“She has these bouts - you saw them last stream - where she likes to try and ‘get away’.” Kenma laughs softly; little glockenspiel notes falling from his mouth. “It’s a really cute joke honestly! Anyway, I’ll put my minecraft bed next to hers later, right now...” You stop paying attention and start planning how you’d try to get your point across more clearly. You could make signs, say “Get me out!” Like Kenma suggested.

“Hey! He looks over the screen at you, piercing eyes staring right through you. “Don’t go off on your own, we’re staying together alright?”

“No.” He’ll have to deal with chatting, possibly hearing you by himself. And you continue through the coded forest. It goes pretty smoothly, though you’re sure Kenma is trying to find you, you’ve already created a mine for yourself, and made a little sign with instructions that reads: “Get me out!”

“Her voice is quite cute, isn’t it? I’ll get to hear it for the rest of my life.” He continues humming out yes’s and no’s to his audience that sit captivated in a land of blocks and pixels.

“Hey, I’m going to use the restroom, is it alright if my girlfriend takes over for me?” He stands, and waves you over into his chair that’s been made for gaming and padded with red accents. He watches you with his cat-like eyes as you sit down and pats your head. “I’ll be right back Kitty, behave.” And you hear his soft footsteps get farther away and the creak of the door twice before you finally look at chat.

Woa, Kudzu got lucky huh?

“Please,” You don’t sound nearly as someone might think you would. You’ve been here too long. “Get me out of here?”

Sure sweetheart, just come over to my place first.

“Just - get me away from him please!”

Girls are so whiny huh?

Hey man, its funny at least amiright?

“It’s not a joke -”

She’s really committed to this bit huh

Damn iim staartin to feel bad for ken

Me to :(

“I’ve been here for year and I don’t want to-”

Wow. what an ungrateful bitch.

Ikr? She’s got a bf and everything and she wants to get out?

“No- it’s not like that - he stalked me for months I-” And the familiar desperation you thought hoped beyond all hope that you had lost bleeds back into your voice all repression surfaces like the tide in your eyes.

Oh fuxxx we made her cry.

relax bet she’s just on her period or smth

“I am not!” A bubble of snot pops from your nose and mucus drips uncomfortably to your lips. “I just-”

What could you want that you don’t have.

“My house! My job! My friends!” And your voice breaks

She wants to go back to a job?

Crazy lady huh.

She wants friends when all she really needs is a man? smh.

“Kitten, what-”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” It’s an outburst that you’ll regret later, for one reason or another. But for now it’s a small comfort to speak your mind. With your voice wavering and congested, you choke out a “Let me go home.” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow but his eyes are still the calculating, cold amber they always are.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.” Instead of the quick pats he’s so fond of, he strokes your hair and massages the nape of your neck like he’s picking up a kitten who's gotten into a fight. “I’m going to cut the stream, okay?”

Who’d want to leave Ken, he’s cutting the stream short to help his gf.

…….yeah

I feel bad.

“You should. Please don’t make her cry.” A few clicks later and the stream cuts. “Do you want me to upload that one?” To get your message out? You’d do anything.

“Yes please…” Someone will have to see it. How miserable you are.

“Then it’ll go up, okay?” He pats your back twice, and he stands again to sit at the computer. Out of the blue he speaks again. “They’re right.” No no no no no. “I’m lucky, i’m so glad you're here with me and that you won’t leave.”

“I will get out!” The proof of your white hot anger is breaking the dam built in your throat.

“Where will you go? Your friends don’t know where you’ve gone, they won’t be happy with you coming back unannounced.”

“My parents-”

“You can rely on me, you don’t need anyone else.”

“But I-”

“Shhh kitty, you’re overreacting let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a stressful day.” And so he walks you back to the room you share that's covered in pictures, and he tucks you under the covers and dries your tears with a blanket. He whispers words to you, faint little nothings about games he’s going to play that you’ll enjoy watching and little bits of trivia about what “Kuroo” is up to. Eventually you fall asleep, with his hand in your hair and a chair pulled up close so he can stare. You both know it but no one will admit, some part of him will always enjoy how you lose hope so quickly.

once again! This should not’ve taken so long,,,, and it kinda deviates from request but! there we are! also,,,, you can’t tell me that like,,,,,,, kenma hasn’t been at least exposed to incels and or like,,,, really sexist guys he streams on twitch or youtube or something so- also thank you anon,,, i really like this one

#yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu kenma #kenma kozume #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #hq kenma #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #tw sexism

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet (JJK x Reader) ☕️💜🔞

🍪 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🍪 Genre: Barista!AU, Mutual pining, smut because this is my content we’re talking about

🍪 Warnings: mentions of sickness, mentions of vomiting, best boi Koo, coffee puns, casual y’all during sex, protected sex because we have our lives under control in this household, overstimulation, rough! Koo, spanking (like..once), doggy-style because why not, reader rides Koo for a moment before he takes the upper hand again, they’re just being a mess ok

🍪 Summary: every day she’s his favorite costumer. So when she’s suddenly absent; what’s he supposed to do without any way to contact her?

Jungkooks eyes began to sparkle as she stepped inside, wrapped up in a fluffy brown jacket, a scarf around her neck.

His scarf to be exact.

Now, they both weren't a couple- but close enough. He'd given her his scarf the day before as she'd forgotten hers at home; and due to the cold weather outside, he'd immediately gotten concerned over her health. He knew that she hated the cold- so he'd gifted his own protection against the harsh wind outside to her, uncaring about himself in that moment.

It gave him a weird sense of pride knowing that she wore it still. And as she stepped closer, Jungkook had already prepared her usual order- never forgetting to include her favorite cookies, a thing he'd memorized by now. She never quite drank coffee, but more like, milk and sugar with a drop of coffee. His coworker, Jin, had made fun of it several times in the past; he'd always stepped in however, as soon as he could see how embarrassed she got.

"Oh?" He asked, as he noticed her red nose and glossy eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked, and she giggled before coughing. He furrowed his brows. Hopefully she didn't want to go to work like that- but by now he knew her well enough to have a very big suspicion that that was exactly her plan for the day.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh hey what's brewing? Looking good yourself, thanks for the compliment-" She said, trying to laugh but coughing again. "Hey look, I kind of wanted to return your scarf, but I also don't want to share my bacteria with you so- is it okay if I keep it for a bit?" She said, voice a bit muffled due to her facemask. He nodded, a slight pout on his lips.

"I know you're gonna go to work but-" He said, placing her order on the counter for her to take, as she placed down the money he took. "Can you at least go home a bit earlier? You really do look not so good." He said, doe-eyes growing a bit pleading at her as she sighed.

"I'll try, okay?" She said, and he nodded. Technically he'd ask her to promise, but he also knew how headstrong she was. The fact that she aknowledged his request was good enough for now.

"Okay." He said, smiling a bit as he waved from behind the counter as she left. "Take care!" He called out as she still waved, almost tripping over the small step outside the door as he chuckled, turning to the next costumer.

She wasn't there the next day.

Typically he should not get too worried about it, but as the week passed, she still didn't show up. A coworker of hers couldn't tell him either what was going on; only that she wasn't at work either.

So she was probably at home resting. Hopefully.

"...kook. Jungkook!" Jin called out, saving his younger coworker from spilling hot milk all over his hand. "Okay, spill the beans loverboy." He sternly said as he took him to the side, the cafe calm and almost empty as they were close to closing time. Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand over his face, groaning for a moment.

"I'm worried!" He exclaimed, no need to say out loud who he was talking about. "I know that she's an independent adult person who can surely take care of herself but what if something happened? What if she's at home too sick to take care of herself? Jin during the entire time she came here, she never missed an entire week!" He explained in pout as he let himself flop down on one of the small chairs. Seokjin sighed, before he looked at the clock.

"Go. I'll wrap things up today." He said, as Jungkook furrowed his brows. Even if he went home now, that didn't help his situation at all! "I'll give you her number and you can call her-" He started, as Jungkook suddenly jumped up.

"You have her number?! Why didn't you tell me?" He yelled, absolutely scandalized by this.

Seokjin threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay slow down, first of all you never asked. Second of all she told me not to!" He said, and Jungkooks look shifted. He suddenly didn't look offended anymore- he looked hurt. Betrayed almost.

"Why.?" He asked, now way quieter.

Jin sighed. "She wanted you to ask for it instead." He answered, and Jungkook threw his head back again, groaning as Jin laughed. "Give me your phone.." He said, taking the device from him and putting in her contact info. "There you go. Use protection kid!" He called after Jungkook, who'd immediately grabbed his phone and ran out, putting on his coat on his way.

The older one simply shook his head, smiling.

"..yeah?" The very tired voice of hers answered as Jungkook sat up straighter on his couch.

"H-Hey its Jungkook! You know, Kookie, the barista who puts in vanilla sugar instead of the lame stuff?" He said, and suddenly a laugh reached his ear, making him involuntarily smile. "Hey, I.. you didn't show up the entire week and it made me kind of worry so, I wanted to ask if you're good?" He asked, shyness slowly dying down.

Her voice sounded strained. "Yeah yeah, just great-" She said, before coughing. "Okay yeah no. Have you ever needed to sneeze but you couldnt?" She asked, and he hummed a reply, agreeing that he indeed had been in that situation before. "I feel absolutely like I'm gonna, you know, throw up, but I can't." She groaned, and his brows furrowed at that.

"I promise I don't try to be creepy here but-" He started, as he looked at his dog, peacefully sleeping next to him on the couch. "Can you give me your address maybe so I can come over? I- Listen I'm super worried, and no one should be left alone when sick." He said, and wondered if he was overstepping a line. Until he heard some shuffling, and a jingling sound.

"I'll text it to you, k? I uh.. unlocked the door now because I sure as hell won't be getting up anymore today." She said, as he chuckled.

"Oh, so you're gonna make me your maid?" He asked, and she giggled.

"Thats the plan Kookie."

"Y/N?" He called, without getting an answer. He thought about it, before trying a second attempt. "Midget!"

The answer was almost instantly. "The fuck do you mean Mid-" She tried, before coughing.

Jungkook walked inside the bedroom after searching for a moment, looking at her with a pitiful smile as he leaned against the doorframe. If she wasn't feeling so absolutely disgusting in that moment, she would've whistled at his way different outfit. After all, she mainly only saw him in his regular work attire; the black button up and ripped jeans he sported now a complete one-eighty to that. He looked so much more mature like that- now actually giving away that he was a bit older than her. Did he always have such a defined jawline? He could definitely cut a bitch with that-

Wow, exit was three miles ago.

"Done staring sugar?" He asked, and she only groaned, burying herself deeper into her massive mountain of blankets as he chuckled. "Alright. I'm gonna carry you into the living room, because I wont be spending my time in your stuffy bedroom." He said, making her giggle as she peeked out of her makeshift burrito.

"You won't?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively before sneezing into the blankets, making him chuckle again.

"You're sick, so no." He said, and she suddenly yelped as he leaned down to pick her up. "What?" He asked with wide eyes.

"I'm sick!"

"So?"

"I'm sick."

"Heard that before." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She swallowed a bit at that because- was that a tattoo staring at her? Why did she never notice his hand was inked?! She shook her head, to focus again. "You'll get sick too!" She explained, before he scoffed.

"It's not like I'm licking your face sugar, now stop being difficult." He said, as he picked her up, blankets and everything included as he carried her back, placing her onto her couch before he squatted down in front of her face. "I'm gonna heat up some soup, and you'll eat something alright?" He said, and she shook her head.

"I'm gonna throw it up." She said, a pout evident. She didn't want his hard work to simply go down the drain- quite literally.

"That's okay." He answered, as she furrowed her brows. "You probably can't throw up because you haven't eaten. People typically feel better after vomiting so it's okay. Win win situation, really." He said as if it wasn't a huge deal.

"It's gross though." She mumbled.

"It happens." He said back, as he placed the white plastic bag on her kitchen counter, filling some of the soup from the plastic container into a small bowl he had a bit of issues finding, before he heated it up in her microwave. He was absolutely terrified of using them usually, making her laugh at him every time someone brought it up, but this time he didn't care much. "Here, let me help." He hummed, as he placed the bowl and a spoon on the small coffee table in front of her couch, helping her sit up properly. "Slowly, okay? You don't need to finish it, just a bit at a time alright sugar?" He requested, and she nodded, watching him as he sat down next to her, bowl on his thigh while he blew on the spoon, careful to cool the liquid food down before offering it. She kept her eyes on his focused face as she opened her lips, accepting it as he gently smiled. "There we go. Hope it doesn't suck, Jin says I can't cook for shit." He said with a chuckle.

"Doesn't matter, I can't taste much anyways." She shrugged, as he offered another small spoonful.

He snorted a bit as he kept himself concentrated. "Well I guess I'll just have to get you better, and cook for you when your tastebuds work again." He decided, as she smiled.

"Huh?" He noticed, as the small form of her whizzed past him, practically throwing open the bathroom door before he heard her. He dried his hands, sighing as he went inside the bathroom, spotting her leaning over the toilet bowl, gripping it with pale hands. "Oh sugar." He hummed, before he squatted next to her, a comforting hand running over her back as the other gathered her hair, holding it away from her face. He hushed her the best he could, a bit of helplessness seeping into his mind as he watched her struggle. She leaned her head on the side of the bowl for a moment, breathing heavily with closed eyes. Jungkook reached for a piece of toilet paper, wiping her mouth before he continued his gentle caressing of her back. "Better?" He asked, and she nodded, before opening her eyes, tearing up. "Whats wrong?" He asked, as he helped her sit, flushing the toilet.

"I hate this." She said, angrily wiping her eyes.

"Everyone gets sick." He said with a slight smile, searching for toothpaste as he prepared everything for her to get the taste off of her tongue.

"Thats not what I meant." She mumbled, as he looked at her. "I hate that you see me like this. I'm disgusting and a walking piece of dead meat at this point, radiating germs." She huffed, as he went down in front of her, pointing her toothbrush at her lips as she opened them almost automatically. He smiled at her reaction, placing the brush inside her mouth as she took over, lazily brushing her teeth.

"I think you're still pretty." He said, as she looked at him with an unamused look in her eyes. "I feel good that you let me take care of you like this. It feels nice that you let me see you like that." He explained, as he helped her up to walk towards the sink, turning on the water as she rinsed her mouth. "I don't like you any less, of you're worried about that." He said, and she almost choked on the water inside her mouth.

She knew he liked her, romantically, yet he'd never openly said it.

"I know its a bit sudden, but I've been pretty obvious." He said, as he wiped her mouth with a towel, before smiling at her.

"If I wasn't sick right now I'd be all cliche and kiss you right now, but I can't." She said, pouting a bit as he chuckled, kissing his two fingers before placing them onto her lips.

"Indirect kiss then."

"Okay but espresso is absolutely disgusting." She said, leaning over the counter to grab a mini cookie, before yelping as Jungkook playfully slapped her hands.

"Everyone can decide for themselves, first of all, and stop stealing shit." He said as he pointed at her, gasping scandalized as she teasingly tried to bite his finger. "Really now?" He asked, and she laughed.

"Okay kids, be disgusting somewhere else please!" Seokjin yelled, grabbing Jungkook by his apron as he pushed him into the backroom, telling him to change and go home. "Yoongi and I will close up today." He said to the young girl waiting, as she nodded.

"Alright sugar, lets go and be disgusting!" Jungkook exclaimed as he emerged from the backroom, now dressed in familiar all black attire, as he scooped her up, making her laugh as they both walked out of the cafe, towards his car.

"I want you to move in with me." He said between huffs of breaths as she mewled underneath him, body shaking with every encounter with his thrusting hips. She nodded as she smiled when he leaned down to kiss her collarbone, hand running over her breasts as he teasingly pinched a nipple between his fingers.

"You'll- urgh-" She groaned, as he bit the skin. "You'll have to carry my shit though." She pressed out, as he laughed at that, leaning back as he expertly angled his hips to hit her sweet spot deep inside, making her arch her back.

"Ah- that's fine with m..me!" He stuttered as he began to put more force into his movements, sacrificing speed for strength as she hummed in delight underneath him, grabbing the pillow above her head as she started to grow restless. "You gonna cum sugar? Nice and hard?" He asked playfully as he moved his hand over her exposed clit, fingers rubbing over the sensitive bundle of nerves as she gasped in pleasure, thighs suddenly shaking as she came, clenching around him. "Hm, good girl." He hummed, before she huffed, suddenly squirming before she squealed, wetness escaping her as he chuckled, sight enough to send him over the edge as well. "There we go, giving me a show aren't you sugar?" He said, voice hoarse as he let himself lean over her again, before she suddenly grinned up at him, pulling him down and shoving a bit to get him to lay down, suddenly above him as she sunk down on his still sensitive cock.

He laghed and choked up as she continued to ride him, her own second orgasm approaching as he squeezed his eyes shut. "God- good god ah!" He yelled out between laughter at the way he could feel his own legs tremble, unsure if what he was feeling was torture of absolute heaven. "Pl-Please God, Baby you're-" He pressed out, gasping as he suddenly felt himself close to a second orgasm as well. "You're gonna kill me you fucking demon!" He exclaimed, roughly turning her around as he pulled her legs against her stomach again, thrusting with newfound strength, as she giggled and squealed. "That's what you wanted?" He asked between gritted teeth as she pressed her eyes close. "Little demon can't get enough of this dick?" He teased as she nodded, now desperately racing towards her release as he suddenly slipped out of her, adjusting the condom with a trembling hand as he manhandles her laughing body onto her stomach, pulling on her lower half as he slipped inside her wet cunt from behind, bringing his inked hand down onto her butt with a loud slap for good measure as she whined. "Oh now you're complaining? Should've known what-" He groaned out in between his words as he grabbed her thighs, pulling her against his relentless hips as she moaned out into the pillow below her. "-Should've know what you got yourself into." He finished, before she arched her back again, reaching behind her to push him off as her eyes teared up from overstimulation. As he saw her painful expression he immediately pulled out of her, pulling the condom off of his erection as he desperately pumped his length, finishing in small spurts on the arch of her back before they both collapsed, breathing heavily.

"Okay, I loved every second of it sugar but-" He exclaimed breathless, as she cuddled up next to him, throwing a leg over his body as he laughed. "What the fuck was that?"

But she simply giggled, mind still too hazy to form any words.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #bts #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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does-this-look-logicality-to-you · 3 years

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Valentine’s Day

words: 2868 universe: human au characters: virgil, roman, patton; mentions of remus, logan, janus pairings: romantic prinxiety, platonic moxiety, platonic DLAMPR, implied background romantic logicality warnings: none i can think of, just fluff on fluff on fluff a/n: happy late valentines day, everyone! i wanted to have this done on actual valentine’s day but executive dysfunction said no thank you. this fic is dedicated to my amazing girlfriend @katlikethesword. i still can’t believe how lucky i am to be your datemate, and i love you with all my heart. this is my first time writing a prinxiety fic this long, so i hope you like it <3

Virgil had never liked Valentine’s Day. As he often said, it was just another commercial holiday created for big corporations to take advantage of people’s relationships in order to make even more money. It was the same with holidays like Christmas and Halloween, but Valentine’s Day had always stood out to him as the worst of them all. He sometimes wondered if, deep down, he disliked this day in particular because he’d never had someone to spend it with.

That is, he didn’t, until he met Roman.

Virgil never would have guessed he’d fall for someone like Roman. The two had met through the internet, after joining a small Discord server for those who shared an interest in Steven Universe. The two held a sort of rivalry between them at first, arguing almost constantly to the point where the others would grow nervous when they noticed both of them online at once. They didn’t dislike one another, per se, but the fact that their opinions clashed a majority of the time led to conflict more often than not.

After some time— and convincing by the others— the two of them begrudgingly started to get along. Their arguments went from heated debates to playful bouts of banter. Virgil found himself growing fond of his eccentric friend, and began to see him as less annoying and self-absorbed. He instead grew to appreciate his sense of humor, and his eagerness to stand up for his beliefs, and his unrelenting loyalty to those he cared about.

Over time, Virgil’s feelings blossomed into something more than just platonic and he felt himself falling. It had terrified him at first— after all, he’d never had feelings like this toward anyone before. He finally came to terms with it after one fateful night, when a voice call lasted so long that the two of them had ended up falling asleep. After that, there was no turning back. After what felt like forever— in reality, a week— he finally opened up about his feelings, and somehow, by some miracle, Roman reciprocated them.

As a result, the two of them were now in a romantic relationship together. Virgil felt himself fall more and more in love every day. It was the simple things that made him special. Roman often sent him messages containing words of adoration and devotion, and he tagged his boyfriend in Tumblr posts that reminded him of their relationship, or of Virgil in general. Virgil had been hesitant to admit that he was in love with Roman, but he did so eventually. He couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

Not everything was this easy, though. Roman lived thousands of miles away, too far to come and visit unless he was travelling with his family, which was unlikely considering how unappealing his home state was as a vacation spot and how unlikely it was for his parents to plan a trip there. All they could do was pine hopelessly as they waited until they could finally see one another. It wasn’t uncommon for Virgil to lose himself in daydreams of the day they could finally see each other, when they could finally hold each other, when they could finally be together. Roman sometimes joked that he’d expect the pining to die down when they got together, only for it to double once they actually did, and Virgil couldn’t help but agree. It was hard being so far from the person he cared about. All he wanted was to see his love, to be by his side, to be in his arms, even if only for a little while. Was that really too much to ask?

When he woke up on February 14, the first thing Virgil did was grab his phone and open Discord to message Roman. When he did, he’d been expecting his boyfriend to have sent him something, anything, but there was nothing. Maybe he’s not awake yet. He hoped that was it. gerard-gay: hey. happy valentine’s day. i miss you. After he sent it, Virgil lay back down, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes again. He stayed like that for a few minutes before stumbling out of bed and changing out of his pajamas. He wasted little time in changing into a purple t-shirt, his favorite hoodie, and a pair of dark gray sweatpants. With that done, he headed into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, then dried it before taking out his makeup kit. He decided to go for a simple look today, complete with the black eyeshadow on his lower lid that he often wore. Satisfied, he left the bathroom and headed into the kitchen.

The first thing he noticed was that his parents weren’t sitting on the couch like they usually were. Panic surged through him as his eyes flitted around the room, looking for some kind of clue. His gaze fell on a bright pink sticky note on the counter. He came over to it and read it. We had to go pick something up. We’ll be home around 1pm. Love you! ~Mom and Dad Virgil sighed in relief. They hadn’t abandoned him after all. They could have told me beforehand, though. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. 8:49. Damnit, I got up too early. At least he had the house to himself for a while.

He made himself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, got out his daily pills, and headed into the living room and set everything on the coffee table. He sat on the couch and turned on the TV, switching it to Netflix and putting on The Office. It wasn’t his favorite show, but it was better than eating in silence. As he ate his cereal, Virgil checked his notifications again. Nothing. He can’t still be asleep, can he? Even on the weekends, Roman was usually awake at around this time. He wasn’t ignoring him, was he?

Virgil soon finished his breakfast and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, swaddling it around himself. He stayed there for a while, occasionally having to venture out of his cozy cocoon to ensure Netflix that he was, in fact, still watching. As he watched, he kept an eye on his phone for any indication that Roman was alive and hadn’t grown bored of him.

Soon, he felt his phone buzz, and he nearly dropped it as he opened Discord to check the notification. To his disappointment, it wasn’t from Roman. It was instead from Patton, one of their mutual friends. happypappypatton: Happy palentine’s day!

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle. gerard-gay: happy palentine’s day pat

happypappypatton: How’s your day so far?

gerard-gay: could be better

happypappypatton: Oh no! Why? Did something happen?

gerard-gay: nothing happened gerard-gay: just kinda worried about roman

happypappypatton: Is he okay?

gerard-gay: idk gerard-gay: i messaged him earlier but he didn’t respond

happypappypatton: Oh no, I’m so sorry!

gerard-gay: it’s okay gerard-gay: at least my parents aren’t home gerard-gay: so i get the house to myself😎

happypappypatton: Can I call you and keep you company?

gerard-gay: nah that’s okay gerard-gay: i don’t wanna take time out of your day

happypappypatton: You’re not happypappypatton: Nobody should be alone on Valentine’s day happypappypatton: Pleeeeease??? I want to talk to you!

gerard-gay: okay

happypappypatton: Yay!!

Virgil laughed to himself as he clicked the phone icon. It didn’t even finish ringing once before Patton picked up.

“Hi Vee!”

“Hey, Pat.”

“How’ve you been?”

“In the ten seconds since you last talked to me?” He laughed. “Exactly the same.”

Patton giggled. “Good point.”

“What about you?”

“I’m doing great! You know I love Valentine’s day.”

“I know you do. You and your roommate are having that Palentine’s party this year, right?”

“Yup!”

“I wish I could come,” Virgil half-joked.

“I know, I wish you could too. Just hang in there, we’ve only got a year and a half ‘till you graduate.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m counting the days.”

“Me too,” Patton agreed with a soft laugh. “Has Roman gotten back to you yet?”

“Nope.”

“That’s really weird. I would have thought he’d have sent you a page-long message about how much he loves you and misses you.”

“I know, I thought so too.” He sighed. “Do you think he’s sick of me?”

“No, absolutely not. You know how much Roman cares about you. Besides, even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t just ignore your messages.”

“Yeah, I guess. It would be pretty out of character for him to just ghost me.”

“Ghost you? But it’s not Halloween, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Virgil groaned. “You couldn’t not make a dad joke, huh?”

“Sorry,” he giggled. “But you gotta admit, that was kinda funny.”

“Meh. It wasn’t your worst work.”

Patton laughed.

“Anyway.”

“Yeah, anyway…”

The two of them were quiet for a moment. “What about the others?” asked Virgil. “Have you talked to ‘em today?”

“Mhm! I DMed everyone earlier. I’m actually talking to ‘em right now.”

“Oh, cool. Are you…” he hesitated before finishing, “talking to Roman?”

“No, he’s the only one who hasn’t said anything. So on the off-chance he’s actually ignoring you, he’s ignoring me too.”

“Has anyone else said anything?”

“Nope. It’s weird, I asked them if they’d talked to him today after you told me he hadn’t been responding, and they all said no.”

“Even Remus?”

“Uh-huh. Apparently he hasn’t even seen him today.”

Virgil started bouncing his leg anxiously. “Okay, now I’m getting kinda scared. Do you think something happened to him?”

“I dunno. Maybe? But Remus would’ve said something about it, right?”

“Yeah, I’d think so.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Patton suggested. “I don’t wanna make you more anxious about this than you already are.”

“Thanks, Pat. How are the others? What are they up to?”

“They’re doing pretty good! Remus is working on a writing project, Janus is playing Stardew Valley, and Logan’s procrastinating on his schoolwork by scrolling Tumblr. Don’t worry, I already scolded him for it.”

Virgil laughed, the mention of Logan reminding him of something. “Ooh, speaking of Logan, are you gonna tell him today?”

“No, not today.”

Virgil was genuinely shocked. “Really? Why not?”

“C’mon, you know him. He sees Valentine’s Day as an excuse for big companies to make a boatload of money.”

“So? I think that too. What does that have to do with you not telling him?”

“It wouldn’t mean anything to tell him today. I don’t even know if I’m ready to tell him yet or not. Besides, he’s got a lot on his plate today, Valentine’s day or not.”

“I get that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so pushy. You tell him when you know you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Vee. You didn’t sound pushy, though. I definitely know how frustrating it can be when your friend’s been pining after someone for months on end but they still refuse to do anything about it.“

Virgil laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll stop complaining.”

“I’m not saying you have to. I did my fair share of complaining when y—” Patton stopped abruptly, and Virgil heard a faint voice coming from the other end. “Okay, just gimme a second,” Patton called out, clearly talking to someone else. “I’m so sorry, Vee, I gotta go. Emile promised a couple friends we’d meet them for lunch today and it completely slipped my mind.”

“That’s okay,” Virgil reassured him. “You go have fun, Pat. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. If I get really lonely I can always talk to the others.”

“Okay. Tell me if Roman gets back to you, ‘kay?”

“I will. I’ll talk to ya later.”

“Bye! Love you!”

“Love you too.” Virgil hung up the phone and got up, grabbing his dirty dishes and taking them into the kitchen to wash them. Once he finished, he glanced over at the clock, which read 10:37. Only about two and a half hours until Mom and Dad get home, he thought as he put the dishes away. He left the kitchen, checking his phone again as he headed toward his bedroom. Once again, Roman still hadn’t said anything. He’s definitely awake by now. Had he been right? Had something happened to him? He forced the thought away. He couldn’t let that bother him. Why was it so important, anyway? Today was just another day.

He reached his room and sat down at his desk, turning on his laptop and putting on his headphones. He then opened Spotify and put on the playlist he’d made for Roman the day after they’d gotten together, before switching over to Tumblr and scrolling through his dashboard. He could probably do the exact same thing in the living room, but he preferred the cozier, more familiar atmosphere of his bedroom. Peanut, his cat, climbed up onto his lap and curled up into a ball. Virgil smiled to himself and reached one hand down to scratch him behind the ear. Peanut purred, and Virgil’s smile widened.

He stayed there for a few hours, seeing what everyone on Tumblr was up to today. Every so often, he switched to Discord to see if Roman had replied to him yet, but no such luck. He did his best to ignore his growing worry, focusing instead on the computer in front of him and the cat on his lap. He could be busy today, he reminded himself. His world doesn’t revolve around you.

Soon enough, he heard the familiar rumble of the garage door, followed by the ca-CHUNK of the front door and the clip-clop-clip-clop of his parents’ footsteps. Virgil gently moved Peanut off his lap, which the pale ginger tabby didn’t seem to mind much. “I’m gonna go say hi to Mom and Dad,” he told the cat. “You can come if ya want.” Peanut meowed in response, which made Virgil laugh. He knew his cat couldn’t understand him, but he still found it wildly amusing when he acted as if he did. He crouched down to pat his head a few times before leaving his bedroom and going into the living room. He smiled at his parents when he saw them. “Hey,” he greeted, giving a sort of half-wave.

“Hey, honey,” his mom greeted with a smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” added his dad.

“Yeah, you too.” He came over and hugged his parents.

“Have you eaten yet?” his dad wanted to know.

“I did,” he reassured him. “I had a bowl of cereal.”

This satisfied him. “Good.”

“What’ve you been up to?” asked his mom.

“Not much. I had breakfast, called Patton and then went to hang out with Peanut and scroll Tumblr for a bit. What about you guys? What exactly were you picking up?” He glanced around in search of a box or some kind of indication of a possible answer but found none.

“Actually,” answered his mom. “It was something for you.”

Virgil hadn’t expected that. “Oh! I-uh, cool. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” his dad told him with a laugh. “Go and see, it’s in the garage.”

“Okay.” He went into the laundry room, where the door to the garage was, with no idea what he was going to find in there. His parents rarely got him big presents, and when they did it was either for his birthday or for Christmas. He had no idea what to expect. He reached the door, turned the handle, and flicked on the lights.

Standing there was a teenage boy with a broad smile. He wore a red hoodie and a pair of ripped blue jeans, and his white sneakers were dirty and worn. Around his neck was a necklace with a gold-colored charm shaped like a crown. He spoke, his voice sounding to Virgil like the most beautiful of songs. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“ROMAN!” Virgil barreled into him, nearly knocking him over as he threw his arms around him. “Oh my God, you’re actually here. Like, right here. In my garage. How did you even manage to do this?”

“I have my ways.”

Virgil pulled back a little to smirk at him. “You’re just as insufferable in real life as you are online, huh?”

“Well, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me and my insufferableness.”

“Unfortunately.” Virgil gave him a lopsided grin as an indication that he was joking, and an adoring smile crossed his boyfriend’s face. “Is this why you haven’t answered my message?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually here. You actually are here, right? This isn’t some practical joke?”

“It’s not a joke. I wouldn’t do that to you. Well, maybe I would, but not on a day like today. Not on Valentine’s Day.”

The two were quiet for a few moments, just taking in one another’s presence. Virgil was pretty confident that he would willingly stay here forever if he could.

“Well, now that you’re here, what do you want to do first?” Virgil asked, finally breaking the silence.

Roman gave Virgil the playful smirk he’d only ever imagined before. “I think I have an idea.” He rested a hand on his cheek and leaned in, and Virgil felt his heart soar as he and Roman shared their long-awaited first kiss.

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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years

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Absolutely Not - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter eight of “all bets are off”

do i sense some… possesive undertones coming from doctor reid? whatever. it doesn’t matter. you’re done with him anyway. it’s over.

warnings: SMUT, public sex, unprofessionalism, bondage, daddy kink, degradation, POSSESIVE sex

“Good morning, agents.”

“Hotch… too loud.” You mumbled.

“I agree.” JJ groaned.

You and your party-girls from the previous night were huddled around the coffee machine, grumbling about your hangovers.

“Why did we do that on a Sunday?” Emily asked, pouring herself a cup.

“Because we’re all masochists.” You replied weakly. Your morning had been miserable. You woke up with a pounding headache and you had to put on about a pound of makeup on your neck and chest again.

“Hey guys!” Spencer approached. You saw JJ glance at him quickly.

“Spence. About last night.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.” She apologized quietly. He shook his head and smiled.

“I already told you JJ, it’s okay. I was more than happy to get you home.” They exchanged smiles and JJ walked away, the rest of the woman following close behind.

“So, you making a habit of going to your female coworker’s houses late at night now?” You asked him. He seemed taken aback.

“What? No. What? Is that how you think of me? I didn’t- I wouldn’t take advantage of her, she was drunk-“ he began explaining frantically.

You felt bad, quickly explaining. “No, Spencer, it’s okay. I know, I know. I was joking. It was nice of you to take her home.” You assured him.

“Good. I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like that.” He sighed. “What did you do after I left?” He asked, moving on.

“Fucked a guy in the bathroom.” You said nonchalantly, testing him.

“Oh, I’m sure you did. Don’t think I don’t remember what you said last night.” He warned.

You found yourself falling into the trap again. Witty banter that would end with you pinned up against some surface and calling him daddy. Nope. Not this time.

“I really can’t recall. I was drunk, remember?” You shrugged, walking away before the situation could get any worse. He didn’t stop you, you noticed, as you made your way to your desk.

“What did you all do last night? You’re walking around like zombies,” Hotch asked you as you passed by him.

“Drank too much.” You sighed.

“And where was my invite?” Derek piped up.

You threw your hands up, a show of innocence. “Don’t ask me, ask your lover Garcia. She made the plans, I was just told to show up.” Spencer was back at his desk now, watching you. “Kid genius over here got an invite, though.” You directed Derek’s attention his way.

Derek walked towards him, giving you the freedom to finally take a seat at your desk. You spaced out almost immediately, mind wandering. What would have been said if you hadn’t walked away from Spencer? Did anything at all happen when he left the bar with JJ? And why the fuck did you give a shit? Self-reminder: you’re trying to let this go, not linger on it for the entirety of the foreseeable future. You were so busy scolding yourself in your head you didn’t realize that a box had been dumped onto your desk. Speak of the devil.

“What’s all this, Spencer?” You asked.

“Files.” He explained. “Files that I think need organizing.”

You looked at him quizzically. “I don’t think that organizing random files is a part of my job,” You stuck your hand into the box. “…This box is empty.” You stared at him blankly. He feigned surprise, causing you to roll your eyes.

He placed a hand on your desk, leaning over, his voice low and quiet. “In 10 minutes Hotch is going to have a meeting with Derek and Prentiss, I overheard them talking about it. JJ and Garcia will be in Garcia’s den going over the info for one of our old cases to make sure there’s nothing they’re missing to help the prosecutor of the unsub. Where do you think we should go?” You narrowed your eyes at him. If he thought he was going to get you to do… this with him again, especially at work, he must’ve been out of his mind. “You want me to choose? That’s fine. I’ll see you in the storage room.”

“No.” You said simply. “Not happening. No Bueno. Nada.”

He exhaled sharply, breath fanning out over the back of your neck. “See you in 10, agent.”

You were making a bad decision. You knew that. So why, then, were you walking towards the storage room when you noticed the bullpen was almost completely empty. Why did you knock on the door? Why did you open it and walk inside when you realized no one was there. Was this a prank? The only things in the room were boxes upon boxes of files and an old desk. Why were you here again? You stood there, confused, until the door opened. Spencer was already tugging the tie around his neck off, meeting your eyes. “You came.” He didn’t sound surprised. You wished he would’ve at least sounded a bit surprised.

“I wanted to know what the fuck you were going on about.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Strip.”

You froze.

“Y/n you knew exactly what was going to happen when you came here. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

There it was again. The warmth. The innate desire to please him, to follow orders.

“I can do it for you, but I can’t promise your clothes will be in perfect condition when we walk out of here.” His tie was off now. He held it in one hand, the other running through his hair as he observed you. You moved to pull off your shirt, dropping it to the floor. He hummed in approval.

“Good girl.”

You quickened your pace a bit, sensing his impatience, until you were shamefully exposed. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, the cold air a sharp contrast to the heat of your body.

“Look how quickly you give in. You’ve always been eager to please, though.” His eyes were raking up and down your body.

“How is it fair that I’m like.. this. And you get to be fully clothed?” You groaned, embarrassment growing. You should have never walked into the storage room.

“Patience, baby.” He chuckled, a hand moving to undo his belt. “You wanna know how I knew you’d come?”

You nodded.

“Because as much as you try to fight it but your body already knows who you belong to. Already knows that you need me, regardless of how hard you try to ignore it.” Fuck. Fuck. What if he was right? Was he right? Were you just braindead and horny at all times? “Come here.”

You approached him. You were already naked, what point was there in arguing now? You could resent yourself and your actions at a later date. He ran a hand over your body, tracing the outline of your skin. He was breathing heavily, a contrast to how calm and collected he looked on the outside.

“Turn around and give me your wrists.”

When you didn’t reply immediately he opted to grab your waist and spin you around. You were pressed against him now, feeling how hard he was through his pants. “Now for these,” he took your wrists in one hand and you heard the clank of his belt moving around and then, suddenly, the rough texture of leather wrapping around your wrists.

“O-Oh my god, Spencer, what are you doing?” Your face had turned bright red and you were actually kind of thankful that he had turned you so you weren’t facing him.

The leather tightened. You tried to flex against the restraints, testing them, but your hands were now held firmly in place. “You can turn back around now,” he sounded proud of himself. You hated it.

You faced him, hands tied behind your back, and watched with shaky breath as he pulled down his pants. “Why don’t you apologize for saying no to me earlier?” He suggested.

“You wish.” you grumbled, refusing to give in that easily.

“I’m sorry, which one of us is naked and tied up right now? I don’t have to make this easy for you. If you want me to fuck the attitude out of you again I certainly will."

You gulped. “H-How can I apologize, sir?”

Spencer bit his lip harshly. Maybe he wasn’t expecting that response, but honestly neither were you. "I think you already know how.” He replied, brushing your hair out of your face.

You sunk to your knees, the rough floor already feeling uncomfortable, but you persevered. He stepped forward, a hand immediately rest on top of your head, blunt nails digging into your scalp. You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth slowly. He leaned his head back, exhaling through gritted teeth. Your eyes were glued to him, looking up through your lashes, and you could feel the need inside of you grow. How did he manage to look so fucking good? You found it hard to control yourself considering you had absolutely no use of your hands or arms, but that didn’t bother Spencer. He pushed you forward a bit and you gasped, coughing a bit. You heard him chuckle. You started bobbing your head, your tongue moving in synch. He was still guiding you, gently rocking his hips to meet your movements. Your eyes watered as he began to speed up, though, pressing your face pressing against his skin with each push of his head and thrust of his hips. “Look at you, all tied up and pathetic,” he breathed out. “Is there any question who owns you? You don’t care when or how, you let me use your body without question.” You were struggling to breathe, tears falling down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Your only thoughts were of Spencer. Pleasing him. Earning his praise. “As much as I’d love to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, I think I’d rather watch you beg for me.” He slowed down a bit, eventually releasing you from his grip. You almost fell over, losing your balance as you sputtered and gasped. He helped you up, running a thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Do you want daddy to fuck you?” He asked.

“Yes, please, daddy.” You replied quickly, obediently. He let out a satisfied hum. “We’re still at work, I’ll have to keep you quiet.” He leaned down, picking up his tie from the ground. “Open.” You coyly opened your mouth and he brushed his thumb over your cheek soothingly, shoving the fabric into your mouth. He did it so gently that you almost forgot that he was about to fuck you in the storage room of an FBI office building. “Look at you, actually learning how to do what daddy says.” He turned you around once again and began to push you a bit, walking you towards the abandoned desk, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and leaving butterfly kisses down your jawline. His finger trailed between your legs. His thumb played at your clit, running torturously slow circles, and he kept at this for a bit, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of your place. Slowly but surely you could feel your climax approaching, but when your moans started becoming louder from behind the fabric he stopped. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but you didn’t have a chance.

“Now you’re gonna be a good girl and take it.” The gentleness of his voice dissipated and he bent you down onto the desk, the cool surface prickling your warm skin. You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth, pleading. He paused, considering, and without warning, he pushed himself inside of you with a low groan. You let out a muffled cry, body trying to refamiliarize itself with the feeling of being so full. You were moaning, spit dribbling down from around the fabric of his tie. “God, fuck, I missed this,” Spencer said through a strained whisper. He fucked you fast, a bruising grip on your hips, and you couldn’t do a single thing but lay there as he did. Eventually, he moved his hand up to your lower back, pressing you further down onto the desk, your face shoved into the smooth wood surface. “You told them last night that I wasn’t your best, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you so hard that I ruin you for anyone else.” He was speaking a bit too loud now, you feared, but there was nothing you could do to indicate that to him. You could only let out muffled sounds of pleasure as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were starting to shake, they were still a little bit sore from the weekend, but you were already feeling yourself get too lost in your pleasure to care about the aches and pains. “Who else could fuck you this well, huh?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded almost angry. “Who else could satisfy a slut like yourself? You need this. You need me to fuck you.” He was too loud. Too fucking loud. And you knew it, but you could barely bother to care. He was fucking you so well you didn’t care if the whole FBI heard you. “You’re so fucking perfect, so hot, especially like this, so helpless, so easy to control.” You were so close, moaning, wishing you could see how good Spencer looked while absolutely ravishing you against the desk. He was close too, you could tell because his movements were once again becoming more erratic. He grabbed the end of the belt that was restraining your wrists, tugging on it hard enough to force you into an upright position, back pressed against his chest. You mewled in pain but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” He growled onto the skin of your neck. You nodded frantically. The hand that wasn’t holding you up by your restraints came from behind, wrapping around your neck and squeezing your pulse. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, the only sound that you could focus on being the sound of skin meeting skin. “Cum for me, then. Cum for daddy.” You couldn’t speak before, but with Spencer’s hand around your neck, you could barely make a noise either. Your legs shook as you came, feeling Spencer do the same not too long afterward. His grip around your throat loosened and he gently pulled the tie out of your mouth as pulled out of you. You gasped for air, still suspended in the upright position he was holding you in. After allowing you to breathe he carefully pulled you off of the desk, standing you up straight and undoing the belt wrapped around your wrists. They were sore and you rubbed them gently, meeting his eyes.

“You were loud,” you breathed out, voice hoarse. “What if someone heard?”

He zipped up his pants and wiped the sweat from his forehead, pocketing his tie which has been rendered unwearable.

“No one heard.” He reassured you and you followed suit and redressed.

“I can’t believe that you… that we…” You stared at him, emotions taking hold, and you felt your eyes water.

He noticed, eyes widening in panic. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just… randomly feeling emotional.” You dismissed him, eyes directed at the floor.

“Oh. Don’t feel bad, that’s actually quite common. It’s called post-coital dysphoria, or PCD. It’s when you experience intense emotions like sadness or melancholy after sex. It’ll go away in a few minutes.”

There he was, always ready to tell you exactly what was wrong. It was nice to know it was normal, you guessed, but you wished you could’ve gotten some actual sympathy. Oh well. It would be gone in a few minutes, right?

“One of us should probably leave first, you know? Stagger our arrivals.” Spencer suggested. You nodded. “I’ll go first. I’m gonna head to the bathrooms.”

Spencer gave you a small smile and wave as you exited. You made your way to the bathroom, and as you passed by the main office-space you noticed Hotch in a room with Derek and Emily. Thank god, at the very least they hadn’t heard you. You scurried to the bathroom, walking inside to see Garcia.

“Hey babycakes!” She grinned. “You look like you’ve been through a wind tunnel,” she noticed. You laughed. “Long day. Hangovers are a bitch.” You ran into a stall and waited until she left the bathroom to use the mirror and fix yourself the best you could. You smoothed your hair and clothes out, readjusting your lipstick and wiping the running mascara from under your eyes. When you left the bathroom you saw Spencer returning to his desk, his hair still attractively tousled. Suddenly you watched Rossi approach Spencer, and his eyes widened. Oh fuck. Wait. Had Rossi been unaccounted for this whole time? Anxiety coursed through your veins as you walked past the pair, who seemed to go silent as you came into view.

Fuck. Fuck. You were fucked. And not in a good way. In the absolute worst way. You didn’t know what you would do if anyone on the team knew what had happened, but Rossi finding out was for some reason especially embarrassing. He was like a father figure to you. A cool Italian father figure. And now he potentially knew that you were having rough sex at work with your colleague. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

All praise Spencer Reid, king of ruining your life.

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