#I laughed eighty times during this

[respectthepetty]

Yin (of YinWar) is PETTY

And I have 29 pictures to prove it!

Background info: Yin and War have their vlog where they upload videos of them doing . . . well, whatever they want, so today's adventure was going to be of them eating at a restaurant that Yin wanted to go to, but War demanded they go to a different restaurant with chickens roaming around, even though he wanted to eat fish at the restaurant.

Yin abided and found a restaurant that fit War's criteria. He called War when he got there THREE TIMES but War didn't answer. Yin was bothered because he thought his buddy had gotten in an accident or something. Finally, someone answered War's phone and said they had kidnapped him. Yin thought it was a joke, until the exact moment he didn't think it was joke.

Then, we get the dumbest flashback to War leaving his house in the most ridiculous outfit to meet Yin only to get hit over the head and dragged back into his house.

The kidnappers tell Yin they will start cutting War's fingers if he doesn't give into their demands. After looking very stressed and upset, Yin finally figures out that this is War's version of the early 2000s American show Punk'd and decides to get petty.

He tells the waiter to box up War's food, but to bring him his plate. Then, the man eats stating that "[War] is a survivor. He can survive."

Then, Yin decides to get dessert.

Mind you that this entire time, War is still tied up.

And he is getting pissy waiting around, so the kidnappers remind him who is in charge and to stfu.

They put him in the cage (dunk tank with blocks of ice in the water), and wait for Yin to figure out where War is. Yin must answer questions to figure out the location and his first question is about an animal, which Yin incorrectly answers is a chicken since he is being PETTY and upset that War made him go to that restaurant for chickens that he didn't even wanna eat.

War gets dunked.

Next, Yin is told to go to a place where he refills his energy when he is down, and once he gets there, he needs to dance for the angel. He asks for clues, so he gets hit with a riddle - How many dwarves are in Cinderella. He answers "seven" even though there are no dwarves in Cinderella.

War gets dunked again.

Yin keeps getting more questions, and keeps getting them wrong showing this is a Pinky and the Brain relationship with him and War, and clearly, Yin is not The Brain.

The kidnappers start taunting War about how much Yin doesn't love him since Yin can't seem to answer one damn question correctly when Google is literally at his fingertips.

But then War starts to embrace the cold, which is good since his ass is getting dunked a shit ton because of Yin's pettiness.

War is resigned to his fate with each passing moment as he slowly comes to the conclusion that Yin is dumb.

But thankfully, Yin has finally figured out the place with the clue to where War is being held which just happens to be War's mom's house since that is a place Yin goes to when he is down (awwww!). He has to dance for the angel, who is War's mom (awwww x2!), but the whole family is there and it takes a minute for Yin to get over his shyness to dance for the location where War is being held (which, if you remember, is War's house).

Meanwhile, War has a light bulb moment, and puts 2 and 2 together.

Yin is fucking smart! He graduated WITH HONORS in computer engineering. How the fuck does he keep getting these fucking easy ass questions wrong?!

Pettiness is the answer

But before War can get properly upset, Yin rushes in to rescue him screaming "P! P'War!" and in an Oscar-worthy performance, War puts on the softest voice begging Yin to get him out.

While Yin records the entire thing claiming he is too dumb to get War out.

War tells him that to get out, Yin has to solve another riddle, so Yin (being petty) hands a shivering War the camera while telling him not to drop it in the water. War's smart mouth tells Yin to not worry about him only the camera since he is already addicted to the pain of the water.

Because of that, Yin decides to stay on his bullshit and takes forever with the riddle while War is FREEZING!

Finally, War snaps and starts yelling answers at Yin.

But he fucks up and says that Star Wars has only six movies instead of nine, so Yin takes a moment to berate War for that since WAR is the big Star Wars fan.

Finally, it's time to get War out, but instead of using the key that would release the water from the tub, Yin says "fuck this kid" (even though War is older) and pushes the button so War falls one more time as War is screaming for him not to.

War is upset and starts questioning Yin even while Yin is helping him out of the tank because it's so interesting that Yin has a waterproof jacket on. Sooooooo. Interesting.

So War slaps him!

After getting dried up a bit and warmed up, War immediately starts questioning what the fuck took Yin so long.

Yin blames the traffic saying that Bangkok traffic is 🎶The Worst🎶 and somehow, War agrees with this bullshit.

But he is still upset and questions Yin's intelligence. Yet he continues to do all of this in the softest angry voice I've ever heard. It's like he is scolding his child but doesn't want his kid to cry. It's adorable.

War asks if he is hungry (since they were supposed to eat like eight hours ago), and Yin unintentionally states that he already ate, but Yin plays his final card to guarantee that War doesn't get mad at him, and tells War that his mom bullied him. This shit works. War isn't upset anymore.

Pettiness wins!

But not before War fesses up that he just wanted to do this because it fit with Jack & Joker and Songkran. Yin doesn't seem pleased with War's reasoning for putting him through all of this.

But I loved it!

If I even get a quarter of these shenanigans in Jack & Joker, I will be thrilled!

#yinwar #jack and joker: u steal my heart #YWPB House #I laughed eighty times during this #it was an epic masterpiece #this is immediately going in my comfort watch bag for days when I feel down #because this was hilarious! #yin anan #war wanarat

[goldsbitch]

My name

Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.

fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only

It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.

Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.

There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.

Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.

Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.

Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.

//

The two getting married? They were something else.

"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.

"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.

"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.

"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.

"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.

"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.

"My mom's going to think we smoke."

"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.

The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"

He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"

"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."

"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."

Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.

A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.

"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."

The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.

"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.

She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.

"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.

The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.

"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.

"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.

"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.

"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.

"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arm around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She god real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.

"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he nearly had a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.

"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."

"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.

"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.

"As if I care."

She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."

He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."

"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.

//

Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.

//

The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.

But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.

The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.

"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.

"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.

"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.

"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.

Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

[ncteez]

charity f*ck (k.s)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Well, yeah, your first time was both losing your own and taking someone else’s but, that was a long time ago. Have you ever taken the virginity of a twenty-six-year-old man who probably should have gotten laid by now anyway? Nope. Are you about to? Yep.

or the one where soonyoung has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 

WORDCOUNT― 12.2k

PAIRING― soonyoung x afab reader 

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― Vernon as reader’s best friend and roommate, Seungcheol briefly as Hoshi’s friend.

WARNINGS― he’s made fun of by his friends for being a virgin, this is not an indication that you shouldn’t remain a virgin if you still are one! it’s fictional and i do not agree with mocking someone for their virginity in real life.

NOTE― i love him and i like the idea of him being clumsy during sex, i also like the idea of him being inexperienced but suuuuuuper eager to pretend he knows what he’s doing. shoutout to my redacted wife @onlyseokmins for proof reading this <3 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags―big huge dick soonyoung, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, soonyoung gets feelings like immediately when u touch him ~

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Vernon with a chuckle. “right or left?”

Vernon snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m swiping right.”

Vernon groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-six-year-old Soonyoung and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Vernon laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the way you do. 

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

~

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 

Soonyoung: ….i’m 26, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying. 

Soonyoung: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to the women in our city

Soonyoung: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 

You: ok, twenty-six-year-old “hoshi” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Soonyoung: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Soonyoung: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’re 26 and have never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Soonyoung: u don’t think im ugly? :) 

Soonyoung: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Soonyoung: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: for now, but im gonna ask again eventually.

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 

Soonyoung: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 

You: 

Grandpa Hoshi: :| 

Grandpa Hoshi: im 26

~

Okay so, here’s the thing. Soonyoung is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Hoshi: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Hoshi: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Hoshi: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Hoshi: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 

Grandpa Hoshi: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 

Grandpa Hoshi: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 

You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 

Grandpa Hoshi: well, that too but 

Grandpa Hoshi: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Hoshi: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 

Grandpa Hoshi: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew 

Grandpa Hoshi: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 

You: yeah, sure. 

You: about the micropenis though, 

Grandpa Hoshi: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first nude from Soonyoung. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 

Grandpa Hoshi:  just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 

Grandpa Hoshi: [image attachment] 

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Soonyoung though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 

Grandpa Hoshi: sorry can’t help it 

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good, you can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now in order to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Seungcheol or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it was you on the other line sent his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as usual. God, this alone is enough for him right now. 

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him right now to talk, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

Letting me come over and actually do it? That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 

“I can facetime you.” 

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Look at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Hoshi?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his nickname come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. 

“This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly now as he watches between your spread legs. 

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 

“Better?”

Soonyoung watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 

“You want to fuck this?” You chuckle softly, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it. 

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes it look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 

“Shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Soonyoung says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

~

Grandpa Hoshi: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Hoshi: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here? 

Grandpa Hoshi: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Soonyoung contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. Hell, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 

Grandpa Hoshi: send ur address, ill be there :) 

~

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Seungcheol croaks through the speaker at Soonyoung, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Soonyoung groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Seungcheol laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Soonyoung laughs, or snorts really. 

“Oh, she’s real.”

Seungcheol sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Soonyoung pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Seungcheol encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 

“That’s what I said!--” Soonyoung smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Seungcheol just said. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Seungcheol laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up. 

Grandpa Hoshi: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Vernon.

“That him texting?” Vernon quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 

You laugh again at Soonyoung’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Vernon that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Vernon. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Soonyoung sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Vernon sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 

“You act like you’re not curious nearly every time I meet someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling.

Vernon stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on his gross body fluids when I come home.”

~

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Soonyoung is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 

So many are you sures, so many you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos, and even more i can’t wait to see yous. 

“Vernon, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottled water. 

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Soonyoung is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Vernon laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around eight fifteen. 

Grandpa Hoshi: i’m a little early, is that ok? 

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Vernon. 

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding. 

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Vernon is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 

Not only did Soonyoung think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Vernon smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Soonyoung does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Vernon and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 

“She’s excited, don’t worry.” Vernon whispers, throwing Soonyoung a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Soonyoung still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, that’s both my best friend and roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 

“Have you and him ever like…” Soonyoung immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 

“Vernon?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Soonyoung moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Soonyoung is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh. How many times he’s embarrassed himself, and now for the first time he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants, or needs. Whichever. 

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Soonyoung tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the entire situation. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Soonyoung and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Soonyoung laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. Now he’s here, and you’re right there. It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and become shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Vernon’s sake. 

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against it this time, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and grabbing your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 

Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. Regardless of your shock at that, he seems like he’s waiting for a green light so you decide to cut the compliments short and raise your brows at him. 

“Go on then.”

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in reaction at what he’s doing to you. 

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” you compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Stay on my clit, use your fingers on me.” 

He hums, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 

You can feel his fingers make their way into you, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” you say shortly, scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day, he could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach euphoria so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ you choke out, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his length in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and wanting nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, you’re gonna finally get a full blow job.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“No, no! It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Soonyoung.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes return and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 

“Hoshi, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his nickname. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 

Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting your throat. 

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of him and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on his length, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 

Once again, he’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 

“Wait, wait wait–” Soonyoung groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No, i was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it–how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice, “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before. Letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 

“I don’t even know at this point.” He admits, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against it.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?” 

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 

“I want to, um, eat you out again…”

That’s new. Twice in one session? You’re not going to turn that down. 

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 

“You have the prettiest pussy.” He says in a clear and calm voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 

“Eat it then.” you try to urge him, and he does just that. 

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him. He eventually holds you in place against him, licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you come this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 

Given, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 

He’s really going to not let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 

You pull your body away from him, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “I need more now, and if you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Promise?” He asks, knowing full well what it was. 

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, right?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no, do that again.” 

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, he did it and you didn’t stop him.

“Are you ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit it fucking raw for the first time? 

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 

You smile, humming at him when you lift from his length, standing on your knees to grab at his and position him in the right place. 

“You sure you’re ready for this?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 

“Fuck, yes. Just do it already.” 

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him made you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the feeling. 

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him purr, or maybe growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from coming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, come with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 

“Oh, shit. Wait– i’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy come around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 

~

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (Not literally, both of you are just dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Seungcheol does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other women and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him come twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a come-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…” 

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Soonyoung is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Vernon and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Soonyoung nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Vernon answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Soonyoung’s friend than Vernon whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 

“Hey Vernon, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Soonyoung and his phone. 

“Put him on speaker.”

#soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #hoshi x reader #svt fic #hoshi fic #soonyoung fic #kwon soonyoung smut

[augustinewrites]

when rin had been told the team was doing pr today, he thought that meant a quick interview, or maybe a photoshoot. 

never in a million years would he have imagined this. 

“how many more classes are there?” nagi yawns, plopping down onto a wobbly bench. “we’ve seen like eighty—”

“we’ve only seen three classes,” isagi informs them. “and i think we only have one more before we can go home.”

“finally,” rin sighs. 

it’s turns out that “pr” for the day was to split the team off and send them to schools across the district. they spoke to the students who had gym that day, talked about what it was like to be an athlete, the importance of staying healthy, what it was like to go to the olympics.

it certainly wasn’t the most difficult pr task he’d been faced with during his time on the national team, but he had to admit that kids could be exhausting. with their absurd abundance of energy and never-ending cache of questions.

it’s then that the doors to the gymnasium open, prompting the three of them to stand. his two teammates greet the kids, who are practically bouncing with excitement. 

but rin…his attention is drawn to you. 

“hi, thank you so much for coming,” you grin, holding a hand out for him to shake. the touch lingers longer than it should, but neither of you say anything. “wow— um— i just can’t believe you’re actually here. i’m a bit of a fan…”

you’re a fan of him? 

before he can open his mouth, your gaze snaps back to your students, who have swarmed his teammates.

“settle down, please,” you instruct them, managing to calm your class of 5 year olds with ease. “i know you’re all excited, but let’s give them the chance to talk and introduce themselves.”

after briefly introducing themselves, nagi and rin are comfortable letting isagi take the lead. rin, having heard his inspirational speech too many times today, lets his gaze drift over to you. 

you’re smiling, listening intently along with your students. as if sensing his stare, you avert your gaze and send a small wave in his direction. his heart is a butterfly beat in his chest. maybe after this he could—

“why are you staring at our teacher?” a young boy wearing a team japan jersey asks. (rin spots his last name is on it, but the number is sae’s. 

of course.)

he clears his throat, face suddenly burning with embarrassment as he wonders how much force it would take to put his head through the wall. “i wasn’t staring.”

“yes you were!” the same kid insists, and rin very briefly considers fist fighting a five year old. 

“you kind of were,” nagi chimes in. 

“do you have a crush on our teacher?” another student asks. 

you hide what rin is sure is a smile behind your hand as he feels his palms begin to sweat. 

“i— i wasn’t—”

isagi saves his ass, pulling out a signed soccer ball. “who wants to play soccer?!”

_____

“i’m sorry if they embarrassed you,” you apologize later, once the period is over. rin had managed to sneak away while nagi and isagi are signing notebooks, joining you near the entrance. “five year olds don’t have filters. i’ve learned that the hard way too.”

“it’s fine,” he waves off, noting your posture laxes in relief. “but…i kind of was.”

“what?” you ask. “staring?”

“yeah,” he admits, suddenly bashful. “i couldn’t help it. you’re…beautiful.”

“careful,” you laugh, gazing up at him. “if you keep saying stuff like that, i’m going to have to request you visit more often.” 

“what if i visited tomorrow?” he blurts, because apparently grown men don’t have filters either. “to take you out for lunch?”

#itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #itoshi rin x you #blue lock x reader

[last-herondale]

Almost Pt. 2

Bucky POV (W/ FemReader)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

Tw: some mild curse words

AN: Hellooooo. I had an idea for a part two! Two fics in one week? Who do I think I am? 😳 anyway here is Bucky’s point of view on what happened after part one! Will link below! Maybe this will be a new series? Idk feeling ambitious 🤣

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been six weeks since Steve’s party. Six agonizing weeks of silence. Forty-two days of not hearing your voice. One thousand and eight hours of not seeing you smile at my stupid jokes. Sixty thousand, four hundred, and eighty minutes of not seeing the light dance in your eyes whenever you saw me enter the room. Three million, six hundred thousand twenty eight, and eight hundred seconds since I saw you walk away from me during that party after confessing your love for me.

You said you needed time. I respected that. I understood that.

After you bared your soul to me, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That you deserved better. It was difficult to stand there and see the light die from your eyes as I said these things. It was painful to see you cry, knowing that I had been the one to cause you that pain. But it was devastating for me to realize that despite how much I loved you, how much I cared for you, that the words I said were still true. Agonizingly so.

I expected that this type of honesty would destroy our friendship. Even though I still held out hope in my selfish mindset that we could continue on like we had in the past. Spending our free nights together, laughing, joking, having fun together, sharing memories, crying, hugging, everything we used to do…

But of course, those dreams had not come into fruition.

When you volunteered to be shipped out of the country for a mission the day after Steve’s party, I knew it was to get away from me. And despite my frustration and worry about you leaving on some dangerous mission without me in the state you were in, Steve assured me that you would be fine. He didn’t know the extent of what happened, but Steve being the inquisitive son of a bitch he is, he was able to connect some of the dots at least. Surprisingly he didn’t lecture or judge me. I was expecting to get an earful from him about how I treated you, led you on, and hurt your feelings, but in return I got nothing.

The mission was only supposed to last for two weeks, but as the days grew longer, the whole team was on edge when the two of you didn’t return. Steve kept communications with Tony, and he would pass along the messages to the rest of us. “They hit a snag. They are safe but they are bunking down for a bit.”

I felt like I was on pins and needles. I just needed to know you were safe, that you were okay. I must have looked worse for wear around the tower, because even Nat noticed and had a conversation with me in my room. It was a little strange. Having her back in my apartment, alone, her fiery gaze still as piercing as it was when we were together. But those feelings I held for her were gone. Something else lingered there, a fondness for the time we had, but nothing more.

I knew she was your best friend, so I assumed you told her everything about what happened at the party, but when she came into my apartment with a stern gaze on me, arms crossed and all, all she said was.

“I don’t know what happened the other night at Steve’s party, but you need to stop moping and get a grip.”

“I’m fine. Stay out of it,” I said with an icy tone.

Nat just rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. “If you don’t feel anything for her, then stay away or get your shit together. She cares about you too much to walk away from you, Bucky.” Nat’s voice grew softer as she thought of you. “Whenever she comes back, and she will come back, she needs to heal. She cannot continue to be your emotional support puppet. It's draining her, James. Every time she returns from hanging out with you I see less and less of her return. She cannot continue to give you all of her heart when she is receiving none of it back.

“So for her sake, please, let her go.”

It was a hard thing to hear, but it was necessary. I stopped driving myself mad with when you would return. It was difficult, maddeningly so, but after another week I was able to distract myself enough with other things… other people. I did a few missions here and there, nothing that took me out of the country, but it filled some of the time I had to think about you.

I spent time with Nadia, the girl I had gone on a few dates with, the girl I had broken your heart over. Our relationship was purely physical. She was another distraction, someone to pass the time with. She didn’t seem to mind the distance I put between us. We weren’t exclusive by any means, and she was free to explore all of her options, but that was as far as that would go. Not that I could ever tell you this, even though I wanted to.

That was the shittiest part of it all. I missed you. Constantly. I missed talking with you about every single part of my day. I missed hearing about your day, or the silly little thoughts that swirled in your curious head. I missed spending my weekends with you, staying up until the sun rose, seeing you curled up in a ball on my couch, sleeping so peacefully. The ache in my chest never ceased, but I was able to drown away the thought of you for moments at a time.

And then you returned.

It was like a blow to the heart, seeing you standing in the kitchen, casually making yourself a bowl of cereal. Your skin seemed tanner than when you left. Clearly you had been somewhere where the sun kissed your skin for long periods of time. You looked beautiful, even just in your morning casual wear. You hadn’t noticed me yet. I was frozen in the entryway, trying to think of something intelligible to say to you, when Steve walked in through the other way. He too had not noticed me yet, his skin also sunkissed and a bit long.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, I watched as my best friend slid his arms around your waist, turned you around in a swift and gentle motion, and kissed you. Ice filled my veins and it felt as if a rock had dropped in my stomach. I staggered backwards a bit, hiding myself more in the darkness of the archway as I saw the scene unfold.

Steve was kissing you. His hands were gentle around your waist, and although you were taken by surprise in the moment, you stood on your toes to be more on his level. You cupped his face and smiled. You were smiling. You looked…happy.

I slipped away back down the hallway and into my room before I could see more. The image of my best friend kissing the love of my life was burned into my mind. I sat on my bed in a disgruntled mess, fighting the strange waves of feelings that were swirling in my body.

You were finally back. You were safe. At that I was able to release the tension in my chest that I had been holding since you left. And then… Steve. What had changed during those six weeks you were gone? Was it serious? Did you love him? Did he love you? These questions paced back and forth inside of my brain until I was nearly dizzy.

It was the memory of Nat’s voice that stuck out amongst my own thoughts. “Let her go.”

You had been happy in that kitchen. Steve was a good man, too good to play with someone’s feelings if he didn’t truly feel something for them. Steve was good for you. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The reason why I broke your heart in the first place? To set you free to find someone that would love you in all the ways I was incapable of doing. Why was I mad that you had done that? Why did I want to punch Steve for kissing you?

I clenched my fists as I sat on the bed. My body shook with so much emotion. In the torental storm that was my mind, I tried to focus on one memory. The only one that mattered. That night on the balcony. You had stood there, hair swirling in the breeze, more beautiful than the night sky. And you said it.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words calmed me. The memory of that night grounded me. Your tears. Your sadness. Your anger. I caused that. “I’m in love with you.” That is what you told me. And even though I wanted to scream it back, to shout it from the roof that I loved you too, instead I denied you. I threw it back in your face to save you from what I am. I hurt you, and this was my punishment. Seeing you pick up the pieces of that love that I shattered and give it to someone who would nurture that love.

I sat there thinking and thinking, until my head was pounding. I laid down on my bed, the image of you kissing someone else burning in my head.

“I’m in love with you too,” I muttered to myself.

Then, as tears began to silently fall down my face, I began to laugh.

#reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #fan fic author #fic writing #james bucky barnes #fem reader #marvel #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #heartbroken #angst #angst prompt

[murdockparker]

Promises, Promises

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?

A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now

An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.

“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular. 

“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”

“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”

“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”

“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”

He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”

“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”

She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”

“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”

“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”

She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”

“I’ll shower!”

“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”

“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about. 

“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”

“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”

“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”

“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.

“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”

“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.”

The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks. 

“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”

“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”

“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”

It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff. 

“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”

“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”

“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that. 

“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”

“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”

“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”

She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”

“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”

“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”

“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”

“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh. 

“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”

Ten years.

Ten years with her. 

The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness. 

“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”

“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”

“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”

“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”

“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.

“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”

“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you not agree?”

“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”

“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”

“Because the sex is that good?”

“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.

“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”

“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”

“Pretty boyfriend?” 

“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”

“Which ones?”

A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”

Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart. 

“Are you gonna press play?”

He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”

She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.

—

Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Apartment listings. 

She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them. 

She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever. 

Forever.

That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp. 

“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary. 

She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow. 

—

“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”

“At the laundromat?”

(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”

“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”

“Magazines from years ago—”

“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”

She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”

“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”

“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”

“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”

“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.

“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”

“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”

“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”

“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”

“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”

The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit. 

“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer. 

“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”

She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”

“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”

“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky. 

Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be. 

“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”

“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”

“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”

“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”

She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”

He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”

“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size? 

“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”

“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”

She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”

He meant that. 

She knew he meant that.

“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”

Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”

“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”

He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”

“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face. 

“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”

A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”

“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”

“You’d say yes if I asked?”

“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”

“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”

“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”

“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to. 

Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off. 

“Pete,” she said, pulling back.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter. 

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”

“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”

“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”

“Romantic.”

“Then my husband,” she teased. 

“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”

“We could hyphenate?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”

“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”

“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”

“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”

Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”

She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”

A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #spider-man #marvel x reader #spider-man imagines #it works for any peter I promise!! #mcu peter parker #tasm peter parker

[wyattjohnston]

kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov

summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.

word count: 1,698

note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚

It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.

It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.

And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.

A large secret.

A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.

1.

Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.

Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.

They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.

A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.

Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.

There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.

It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.

“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.

His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”

Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.

No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.

2.

Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”

Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.

“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”

Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.

There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.

“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”

“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”

During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.

Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.

3.

The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.

Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.

“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.

There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”

“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”

Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.

“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”

“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.

“What you mean?”

“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”

Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.

It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.

+1

Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.

Not that they had up to that point.

They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.

There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.

“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.

“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”

“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”

Andrei choked on his drink.

“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.

“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”

Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”

“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”

“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”

Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.

There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.

Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #canes fic #hockey girlies fic exchange

[mint-yooxgi]

Lethal Protectors - Yandere!Vampires!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 6,410

Warnings: Violence and blood. Implied stalking. Past trauma and mentions of a physical assault which almost need in death. Scars. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Well, I never expected this to become this long, but it's based on a dream I had during a nap I took last night lol. Not much, but I hope you enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated!

The trip back to your hometown was meant to be short. Nothing more than a pitstop, really. Say hello to your family, maybe even some friends, then be on your way again. You never expected it to turn into a full month. A month filled with people constantly telling you to stay away from them.

Who were they, and why did the eight of them always suddenly seem to miraculously appear around you whenever you were out? 

You’d go to the store for some food, and suddenly Yeosang and Seonghwa are bickering in the next aisle over about the prices for cereal, while San and Wooyoung gather produce. Other times, you’d run out to grab coffee in the mornings for yourself and your family, only for Hongjoong and Yunho to appear in line behind you, chatting you up about the weather the town has been having lately. You’ve ran into Mingi and Jongho more times than you can count at different thrift stores, that you’re starting to think they might be stalking you.

The odd thing is, growing up in such a small town, you think you’d remember them. It’s not that they aren’t nice people, or so they seem. You just trust your neighbour, Missus Benson who you’ve known for years over eight complete strangers.

Then, the rumours started. Your old school delinquent who’s always had it in for you wanted to ‘talk’. You know exactly what that’s code for, so you started going out less and less, being cautious to always go out with either your parents, or someone you knew to avoid running into an ‘old friend’.

Only, you weren’t the only one that noticed.

Over the past month, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, you have been growing closer to those eight mysterious men. Yunho and Wooyoung never fail to make you laugh, or crack a smile, even unwillingly. Seonghwa and Jongho are always there with recommendations for natural remedies for sudden aches and pains. Both Hongjoong and Mingi quite enjoy talking to you about music, a topic you never really got to discuss in full with any of your other friends, and both San and Yeosang are great at giving advice, even subtly.

It’s a cold Thursday morning when you coincidentally run into Yunho at the coffee shop. He looks concerned, but as soon as you bring it up, it’s like his expression does a one-eighty.

“Just worried about you, is all.” He smiles politely. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards as you tense, “Been busy.”

“Is everything okay?” His brow furrows, concern immediately washing over his features.

“Yeah…” Movement outside the coffee shop draws your attention, and you’re quick to head towards the side entrance. “Sorry, Yun, I’ve really got to go. Talk to you later?”

The sound of the front bell jingling is synonymous with the side door slamming shut, the tall male standing there as he blinks in shock. Clearly something isn’t right, and when he turns back around to face front, he thinks he gets his answer.

***

It’s a misty Monday morning when you find yourself beginning to feel too cooped up in the house. Your whole mind is wound, and every little thing seems to set you off - your mother not muting her phone when she watches funny little videos, the sound of your father’s typing on his laptop. Hell, even the sound of the dog’s nails on the floor running back and forth as your sister plays with him is grating on your every nerve. 

Which is why when the mid-afternoon rolls around, you decide that you’ve had enough.

“I’m going for a walk!” You call out, not even waiting for a response as you sling your jacket over your one shoulder, and step outside.

The front door slams shut behind you, finalizing the sudden decision. You’ll take your chances traversing the familiar forest across the street. Ryder doesn’t live in this immediate neighbourhood, anyways, and it’s far too dreary a day for him to be out and about. At least, in your opinion.

Sliding your jacket onto your arms, you’re quick to cross the street. The area seems particularly quiet, but with the grey clouds hanging in the sky, the mist clinging to the air, you understand why.

A small smile tugs at your features as you pause just before the one entrance to the forest. It’s been a while since you went traversing through the woods like you were a kid again, and you can already feel the calming effects of the crisp air cooling your every sense.

Without another thought, you begin.

You walk your old path twice before deciding to sit yourself down at your favourite spot, just beside the small pond in the middle of the woods. A fallen tree provides a natural bench as you stare out across the water, some ducks swimming across the surface. 

You can hear the sounds of natural all around you: leaves rustling as the wind drifts through the trees, bugs humming in the background while animals forage for food. Every now and then, you can hear feet shuffling in the underbrush as a couple or two walk by with their dog, holding hands and smiling at you politely as you turn to say hello.

It’s been a while since you’ve fully submersed yourself like this, and to say you’ve missed it would be a huge understatement. Getting out of the house, especially on a day like today, a day with weather you’ve always been fond of, has done wonders for your mood. Enough so, that you practically forget all about Ryder for the moment. Or, at least, he doesn’t worry you as much as before. Really, what can he do to you now that he didn’t back then?

The sound of approaching footsteps trudging along the path draws your attention. Turning reveals a girl about your age with shoulder length golden locks hanging in loose curls approaching you. The closer she gets, the more you realize how blue her eyes are, and just how familiar she looks.

Her head tilts as she pauses in her steps, a curious call of your name falling from your lips. “Do you remember me?”

You smile, standing back to your feet as you face her. “Of course I do!”

She mirrors your expression as you both hug each other.

“It’s good to see you again, Gabrielle!” You comment, pulling away from her for the moment. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school.”

“You look so different!” She chuckles. “Then again, I imagine so do I.”

You nod, sharing a small laugh with her.

“I know we weren’t really close in school, but would you like to walk with me for a bit and catch up?” She offers, motioning down that all too familiar path that leads to the side roads.

“Sure!” You readily agree, already falling into step beside her.

The two of you talk for about an hour, sharing some details of your lives and what you’re up to now-a-days. Only, you see her brow furrowing slightly in worry as you approach that little pond area you first met once more.

“You mentioned meeting some new faces when you came back for a visit,” she chews on her bottom lip. “Did I hear you right when you said you’ve met Yunho?”

Your own brow furrows slightly, “Yeah. What about him?”

“He and his friends are no good.” She warns you, suddenly grabbing your arms in her hands. “You need to stay away from them.”

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” You shake your head, not quite understanding their concern. “They all seem like nice guys to me.”

“They showed up in town about two years ago, right around the time those animal attacks started happening.” She explains. “So many people have been run out of town, or have left because of them.”

“The guys, or the animal attacks?” You inquire, this being the first time you’ve heard anything about there being any sort of animal attacks nearby.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shakes her head. “They’re dangerous people. Don’t go anywhere near them.”

“No, the person I need to stay away from is Ryder.” You comment, gently removing her hands from your arms. “He still seems to hold a grudge towards me since high school.”

“He followed you to high school?” She blinks, almost dumbfounded, at you.

Quickly, you shift your head from side to side, as if checking if the coast is clear. You’ve had this sneaking suspicion that you’re being watched ever since you entered the forest, but it’s only just recently gotten stronger. Once you determine that no one is around, you motion her closer.

“Gabi, he almost killed me.” Your voice is no more than a whisper as a harsh wind blows passed. Gently, you grip the edge of your shirt, shifting slightly to raise it to about the bottom of your ribs.

Her eyes widen, a gasp escaping her lips as her hands come up to cover her mouth.

“Final year, he cornered me in the locker room.” You let the material of your shirt fall back down to cover the jagged scar on your body, spanning from below your ribs on your right side, all the way across your stomach, and almost to your left hip. “Didn’t even use a blade, but a broken piece of glass from the window he smashed to get in.”

“That’s horrible!” Her whole body trembles. “I’m so sorry that happened!”

“Because it happened before his eighteenth birthday, they couldn’t try him as an adult yet. He got two months in juvie and a slap on the wrist. I got twenty-four stitches, and six months in recovery.” You avert your gaze. “I’m assuming he’s looking for me to finish what he started.”

“But why?” She meets your gaze, tears lining her vision.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, straightening out the front of your jacket. “I never asked, nor did I want to.”

“You should get home, then!” She replies frantically, checking her watch. “Ryder and his gang enjoy hanging out at that entrance over there with their bikes in the evenings. It’s almost around the time he gets here.”

Frantically, she starts tugging your hand to lead you in the opposite direction.

Faintly, you begin to hear the sound of motorcycles revving in the distance.

“Hurry!” She tugs you along, sparing a glance behind you only for her eyes to widen. “Shit. I can just make out some of their bikes at the edge of the path. Sometimes they like to joyride through here cause it’s wide and flat enough. Let me see if I can go distract them for a bit. I’ll meet you at the front entrance in five!”

Without waiting for a response, she pushes you behind her and down the path. You can only watch as she scurries off towards the sound of revving bikes and obnoxious laughter.

Reluctantly, you part ways, looking back over your shoulder every now and then to see if you can still catch a glimpse of Gabrielle. Only, the further you get, the harder it is to tell if she’s alright. She took a big risk doing this for you, especially since you don’t really know her all that well anymore, and you both were never really close to begin with. Still, you will not forget her kindness that easily.

At least Ryder shouldn’t hurt her. From what you recall, he was always trying to impress her in elementary school.

Just as you breach the forest entrance she told you to wait by, your eyes widen. What if she did this to set you up?

No. Her shocked reaction was too genuine to fake. Besides, she was never like that before, and you do not think she’s like that now. Either way, she should be back with you in a minute.

Five more minutes pass by, and you’ve still yet to see any sight, nor hear any sound of Gabrielle. Your worry skyrockets with each passing second, and you know you’re not that far from the side road if you decided to cut through the bush. Something must have happened.

At the shriek of fear you hear faintly in the distance, you know something’s wrong. Even that creeping sense of being watched has left you about twelve minutes ago, and you don’t know what’s going on. Either way, you’re not going to leave Gabi to the same fate you suffered under at the hands of this man. If he wants you, then that’s exactly who he’s going to get.

It takes you less than two minutes to reach the entrance at the side of the road, creeping along the trees to avoid being seen for as long as you can. You turn your head left to see nothing, only to turn right and see about six males sitting around on motorcycles, Gabrielle being held in their midst. She struggles to free herself, a switchblade being pressed to her throat by Ryder who wears a smug grin as he whispers lowly into her ear.

“Ryder.” Your stern voice draws all of their attention as you step out of the woods. “Let her go.”

“Ah, there you are.” He hums, fingers tightening on the back of Gabrielle’s neck. “Took you long enough to show up. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” You keep your voice calm, hands raised defensively in front of you as you keep a fair amount of distance between you and the six men. “You wanted me, not her.”

“I suppose you took the bait easily enough.” He chuckles, shoving Gabi to the ground.

Tears stream freely down Gabi’s cheeks as she scrambles away. All the other males offer her is condescending chuckles, tripping her as she attempts to escape.

Gabrielle runs over to you, a small scrape cut into the skin of her left eyebrow. Her hands once more find purchase on your arms, soft apologies falling from her lips.

“It’s okay.” You assure her. “Get home safely, I’ll be fine.”

She squeezes your arms, rushing back off into the suddenly silent woods and out of sight.

“So, you’ve finally returned after years of staying away, huh?” Ryder scoffs, standing from his motorcycle and slowly stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. “What made you stay? I thought you swore to never spend more than one evening in this town if you could.”

“Oh, you know,” you reply casually, backing up all the while. “Lease was about to renew, landlord raised the rent, apartment flooded. The usual.”

“Convenient,” he grins, and the sight only serves to unnerve you. “Had nowhere else to go expect dear old mom and dad.”

“You should know.” You reply bluntly.

Everyone you’ve talked to has explained how much of a deadbeat Ryder is. He’s always trashing the town and causing mischief, but he never gets penalized for it. Bastard’s dad is a cop, no wonder he only really got off with a slap on the wrist when he hurt you all those years ago.

“How’s that scar?” He tilts his head mockingly. “Did wonders to improve your ugly features. Too bad it didn’t kill you.” He pauses ten feet from you, that switch blade getting flipped menacingly in his hand. “Want some more?”

You run; without wasting another precious moment, you turn and flee.

The sound of revving engines reach your ears as you stick to the edge of the road. You’ll have better chances of a car coming by than with people walking through the woods this late in the evening. So, you take your chances on a flat path, sprinting along the wet pavement as the mist continues to hang in the air.

Only, you don’t get very far, for two of his lackeys nearly run you off of the road when they swerve in front of you. The others are quick to surround you, but you don’t even have much time to think before you feel yourself get harshly tackled to the ground.

Blow after blow is given to you, blood seeping out of cuts all along your body. Ryder lets each of his men take turns beating you, saving the knife until the very end when you can no longer feel your right arm, or the left side of your face.

Slowly, meticulously, he reopens that cut he gave you all those years ago. He’s not gentle, either, and all you can think of is that this is just like the first time, only worse. This time, there are witnesses who choose not to help you, screams and pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears.

“There,” he stands back to his feet, spitting on you all the while. “Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on their morning commute will find you.” He kicks you one more time for good measure as your vision begins to fade. “If you’re that lucky, this time.”

Nothing but the sound of their maniacal laughter echoes through your mind as they rev their engines once more. The last thing you see before your world goes black is the faint glow of taillights driving off into the distance.

***

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you do recognize a few things.

One: you’re terribly cold. You can barely feel your body, and consciousness is a battle to maintain as your whole being aches with a pain unlike anything ever before.

Two: you are no longer alone.

Someone seems to be calling your name frantically, your body being held within that person’s embrace. Their caress is tender, cautious not to aggravate your wounds any further than they already are.

Groggily, your eyes blink open, whole body tensing as you hear three unnatural roars sound from just off to your right.

“Tell them to calm down!” The voice holding onto you snaps at someone to their left. “They’re scaring her.”

Finally, your gaze refocusses, and you can just make out the features of the man holding you. Your lips part, his name but a muted whisper as you attempt to speak.

“Shhh,” Yunho coos, brushing a hand tenderly over the top of your head. “We’re here now. It’ll all be okay.”

Faintly, you register the sound of someone pacing just by your head.

“This is all my fault,” a deep voice sounds from above you. It must be whoever was pacing, for they seem to have stopped for the moment. “If I didn’t leave her alone to come get all of you, this never would have happened.”

“You did what any one of us would have, Yeosang.” Another voice replies, a slight sigh on his lips. “If we all hadn’t of gotten here when we did, it would be much worse.”

“Here,” Seonghwa comes to kneel beside you, his arm shaking as he brings his wrist to your lips, “Drink this.”

You try to protest, to resist the red liquid which pours soothingly down your throat, but you cannot. You are far too weak at the moment to do anything other than obey, and besides, you’ll probably die soon. So, what’s the difference if you comply with the wishes of a strange request?

Only, the moment the warmth touches your tongue, you begin to feel strength returning to you. Your breathing is evening out with every breath you take, your wounds slowly seeming to close. The pain is starting to dissipate, and you find you are regaining feeling in all parts of your body.

Your vision clears further, and you can see Hongjoong standing off to the side, both him and Wooyoung looking absolutely livid as the sound of snapping branches reaches your ears. Shifting your gaze, you see both Mingi and San rush out of the woods far too quickly for any human to do, dried blood coating their hands as dirt covers their arms.

Finally, the eldest pulls his wrist away, wiping at the small stain of red that coats your lips with his thumb. Silently, as he does so, the six others standing around you converge.

Yunho’s whole body shakes. You can feel it trembling against you as he pulls you into his chest. His grip is desperate, clinging to you for dear life as if you may disappear again at a moment’s notice.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is calm; deadly. Like the approach of an oncoming storm.

You look down, noticing the torn material of your shirt. Your hands shake as you watch that scar you’ve had for the majority of your life finish healing, the line you’ve become so accustomed to fading into nothing.

Blood still covers the majority of your body, yet all you can do is stare at your hands for the moment. Slowly, you raise them, touching the tips of your fingers to your thumbs, and counting to twenty in your mind. You blink a few times, still debating on if this is really happening or not.

You tilt your head, almost inquisitively, “How…”

“She’s in shock.” Jongho comments.

“Of fucking course she is!” San replies, clearly exasperated as he nearly tears his hair out of his skull. “We only found her bleeding out and on the verge of death at the side of the road!”

You flinch at his tone, and they all take a step towards you.

“Watch it, San.” Mingi warns.

“Like you are fairing any better.” Wooyoung snaps, arms crossed over his chest. “Tearing out the whole forest isn’t going to catch the bastard that did this to our ma-“

“Who did this to you?” Hongjoong’s inquiry is a tad softer than Yunho’s as he crouches beside you. His blond hair is pushed up and away from his face, hiding nothing of his expression of concern as he reaches for your hands. Still, he cannot hide the tremble in his own.

Your lips part, voice catching in your throat. Desperately, you attempt to find the words to say, but none seem to want to come out.

A blink, and Yeosang comes to crouch beside Hongjoong, drawing your attention to him for the moment.

“Was it Ryder?” He keeps his inquiry low, tone even as he meets your gaze.

After a moment of hesitation, you nod. Slowly.

The males all tense around you, but none so much as the one holding you.

“He was the one-“ Yunho swallows thickly. “The one that made you flee the coffee shop that day.”

Again, you nod.

“He gave you that scar you showed Gabrielle today.” Yeosang continues, and in the back of your mind, you wonder how he knew that. Though, from the way your injuries have miraculously healed, the rumours you’ve heard, and those roars that shook the area not even ten minutes ago, you’re starting to piece two and two together. “He did this to you."

The way you swallow, quite thickly at that, is answer enough.

“I’ll fucking kill him for touching you.” Wooyoung seethes, his eyes flashing beneath the dull light of the moon now peeking through the clouds.

“Bastard is lucky to still be fucking breathing right now,” San’s chest heaves with every breath, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

Hongjoong stands back to his feet, turning his back to you as he methodically cracks his neck from side to side.

Gently, Yunho hands you off to Seonghwa, who is more than happy to cradle you in his hold.

“Jongho, Seonghwa, Yeosang, take her home.” Hongjoong rolls his shoulders, only to spare a glance back at you in the next moment. He smiles reassuringly before turning to face front, the others coming to stand beside him in a line. “The rest of us are going hunting.”

A blink, and the five other males have disappeared from sight.

Words of protest begin to form at your lips as you feel yourself being picked up quite easily by the eldest from the ground. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the events that have taken place before your very eyes, but the longer you think about it, the more your head begins to hurt.

“Shh,” Seonghwa coos into your ear, turning back towards the forest and beginning to walk down the path with the other two males in tow. “Just sleep.”

You want to fight it, but at the sudden fatigue that clouds your mind, you have no choice but to fall unconscious for the second time this evening.

***

This time, when you wake, the sound of a crackling fire greets your ears. You can feel yourself being held in someone’s embrace, a soothing hand being brushed over your back as you curl into what you assume is their chest. The odd part is, even though you remember everything, you feel safe, and you certainly feel warm.

A small groan escapes you, your hands coming up to rub at your eyes. You manage to push yourself the slightest bit away from whoever seems to be resting with you on the couch, feeling their chest shake with a chuckle as you nearly fall backwards onto the floor.

“Feeling better?” It’s Yeosang.

You blink, quite a few times at him laying in front of you, just casually holding you steady so you don’t go tumbling from the couch. 

“Uh, yeah.” You clear your throat. “Thanks.”

Slowly, with his help, you sit up. He helps you wrap the blanket you had been using around your shoulders, and that’s when you notice both Jongho and Seonghwa sit in the same room as you. Each male occupies a separate armchair, gazes locked on your form as they observe your every move with nothing but worry in their eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jongho leans forward the slightest bit, fingers desperately clutching at the sides of his chair as he looks to you.

You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself as you nod. 

You stare at the floor, keeping your voice low. “How did you find me?”

The three males share a look between one another.

“We-“ Seonghwa swallows thickly, averting his gaze to the side. “We could smell your blood.”

Before another word can be said from any of you, the sound of a door opening reaches your ears. Glancing up reveals five more men flooding into the room, red coving nearly every free inch of their skin.

Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head, especially when Wooyoung comes to kneel right in front of you, reaching for you with nothing but concern on his features. Only, you cannot help but to push yourself away from him, and as far back into the couch as you can go. 

His expression droops.

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong hisses.

“Please don’t be scared of us,” he keeps his voice low, nonthreatening. “We would never hurt you.”

“Give her some space,” Yunho drags the male back by the collar of his shirt. “She nearly died tonight, the last thing she needs to be is crowded.”

Each male does not fail to miss the way you flinch at Yunho’s words.

“I understand why people told me to stay away from all of you, now.” You keep your voice low, clearing the roughness of your dry throat as you speak.

You notice the way they all tense, expressions falling, even if only the slightest bit.

“Are you scared of us?” Hongjoong’s tone is soft, nothing but a gentle inquiry as he meets your gaze.

“Should I be?” You quirk a brow. “Because I’m pretty sure if you were half as bad as people said you were, you would have left me for dead at the side of the road.”

This time, it’s their turn to flinch at the reminder of the state they found your body in.

“Right now, I need honesty.” You spare a glance around at all of them as you curl in tighter to yourself. “Can you afford me that?”

“Always.” Mingi breathes, taking a step towards you as if he wants to comfort you.

You take a deep breath in, “You all aren’t human.”

A statement which they pick up on.

“That is correct.” Yunho nods, swallowing somewhat thickly.

“You’re responsible for those animal attacks starting around two years ago that Gabi told me about.” Again, another statement.

“Yes and no,” San grimaces. “There were a few other covens that tried to follow us here. We ran them off.”

You can feel your heart pounding inside of your chest as you continue to stare at the floor. The fire crackles to the side.

“You’re vampires.”

A stillness passes over the room.

“We are.” Yeosang confirms, and he notices how you don’t necessarily retreat any further away from him on the couch this time.

You look up, sparing a glance around the room and fully taking in the bloody appearances of the five males who entered not that long ago. Your hands tighten on that blanket around your form. 

“You killed them, didn’t you?” The words are no more than a whisper on your lips, but they all still manages to hear.

“Of course we did.” Wooyoung states, rather firmly.

You meet his gaze. “Why?”

The eight males nearly blink in surprise.

“They hurt you.” Mingi replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He hurt you.”

“Why go through all of these lengths to help me?” You spare another glance around the room at all of them.

They all seem to blink in mild surprise.

“Because you are important to us.” Hongjoong shifts to crouch in front of you, gently reaching over to clasp your hand in his own.

“You met me a little over three weeks ago.” You deadpan.

“We’ve been searching for you for much longer than that.” Seonghwa breathes out, shifting so that he’s sitting on the edge of his seat.

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“How much do you know about our kind?” San asks, sitting across from you on the opposite couch.

Your eyes narrow slightly at him, figuring this to be some sort of test. “I’ll admit, I’m rather ignorant when it comes to your ways. I don’t think Twilight or Dracula are good history books.”

Mingi and Wooyoung snort, “You’ve got that right.”

“Basics are the same,” Yunho says, beginning to list off, “We need blood, or blood substitutes to survive. Strength, speed, abilities, all the same.”

“Sunlight, garlic, and crosses are all null though.” Wooyoung shrugs, plopping on the couch right beside San.

“Though, there always seem to be one aspect never mentioned for our kind.” Yeosang mumbles, somewhat disappointedly.

“No, the wolves seem to get that aspect more than we do.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair.

“Aspect?” You spare a look around the room before your eyes settle in on the soft brown ones of the male kneeling before you.

“There are many different words for it,” Hongjoong begins. “Fated, life partners, lost souls,” his eyes flash as he watches you carefully, “mates.”

Your head tilts forward in disbelief, “You expect me to believe vampires have soulmates?”

“Believe it or not, we do.” Yunho’s voice is but a mere exhale on his lips as he looks to you, a certain type of fondness suddenly shining there that you’ve never seen before.

Your head begins reeling.

“None of our kind really know how it works,” San looks down at his hands, beginning to pick at some of the dried blood lingering there. 

“It can happen at any stage in our lives, but there comes a point where we begin to feel drawn to a place.” Seonghwa explains.

“Sometimes it’s a hometown, other times it’s where they currently live.” Mingi adds.

“We all felt that pull,” Hongjoong breathes. “To here.” He meets your gaze. “To you.”

“We spent a full year in this area before we realized you were no longer living in town.” Wooyoung’s gaze drops to his lap, a sort of defeated longing taking over his features.

You notice how none of them meet your gaze now, and realization settles in your bones. 

You inhale sharply. “You tracked me.”

“When you’ve lived as long as we have, you begin to think these stories of so called ‘fated’ are simply legend.” Hongjoong admits. “So, when we finally felt that pull, we wanted to do anything to keep it.” He squeezes your hand gently. “To find you.”

A sort of ease lifts some of the tension from the room as it settles over the eight of them

“And we did.” Mingi smiles softly at you, blinking back the tears that suddenly spring to his eyes.

“Getting to know you was the next step,” Wooyoung says, a sort of eager gleam shining in his eyes now.

“Of course, we don’t know everything.” Yunho shoots him a pointed look.

“Once we knew you’d be coming for a visit back home, it made things a little easier,” Jongho admits, his fingers beginning to dance along the armrests of his chair.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “That’s sweet and all, but you only talked to me because fate told you to?”

“No!” Seonghwa is quick to protest, extending his arms in front of himself as panic crosses all of their features.

“We wanted to get to know you first, before truly deciding on anything.” Yeosang says, noticing how you turn your gaze to meet his own as he speaks. He smiles shyly, averting his eyes in the next moment.

Of course, they’re not going to tell you the lengths they went to just to get you to stay at your hometown for longer than you had planned. It’s not like they planned to let you leave them. Not when they’ve finally found you. Not when you’re finally theirs.

“And do I get a choice in this?” You quirk a brow.

The males all share a look.

“Of course you do!” Hongjoong assures you. “We would never force you to be with us.”

However, sabotaging any other partners you may desire is not completely off of the table. They’ll all make sure to appear as the best options for you. Them, and only them.

You nod in understanding. Beginning to push yourself off of the couch. Luckily, Hongjoong seems to pick up on your movements, helping you up and onto your feet in the next moment.

“This is a lot to think about.” You reply, rather bluntly. “A lot has happened, and I really just want to go to sleep.”

Seonghwa stands. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Again, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“No.” You shake your head. “I am going home, and then we can discuss this later. Preferably when over half of you are not covered in blood from ripping someone apart.”

“Oh, believe me, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung grins, though it serves to unnerve your more than anything, “We did more than that to that bastard.”

Your whole body tenses, and you watch as San reaches over to smack Wooyoung upside the head.

“Ow,” he rubs at the tender spot, “What the hell was that for?”

At the jerk of San’s chin in your direction, Wooyoung takes in your tense state.

You blink, clearing your thoughts. “One of you, take me home.”

Turning towards the door you’re positive the five had entered from earlier, you begin to make your way out of the room. All eight of them are quick to follow, Seonghwa offering to drive you back to your place for the evening. Both Yunho and Hongjoong offered, but seeing as they’re both still bathed in blood, you opted to decline.

The whole drive back to your parent’s house is silent, Seonghwa attempting some small talk with you only for you to shut him down every time. You’ve been through a lot this evening, and there’s been a lot of information for you to process, so of course the eldest isn’t phased in the slightest. Ever the gentleman, he still bids you a goodnight, and waits until you get inside your house, and have turned on your bedroom light before driving off into the night.

That evening, as you lay in bed, all you can do is toss and turn. Your mind swims with everything you’ve learned, yet you find yourself more relaxed than anything. It’s as if this is always what was meant to be.

With that thought, you turn onto your side, clutching your pillow firmly to your chest. Not even ten minutes later, you succumb to sleep, breathing evening out as your curtains sway in the breeze.

Silently, eight presences enter your room, completely undetected beneath the light of the moon.

“That went better than planned,” Wooyoung comments, a giddy grin tugging at his lips.

“She seems to be taking things well,” Seonghwa nods his agreement.

“It helps that she already knows us.” Jongho hums, shifting in closer to your bed until he’s right beside your nightstand.

“We still don’t know if she’ll fully accept us.” Yunho reaches out for you, only to stop himself when he feels Yeosang’s hand on his wrist.

“Let’s not push our luck tonight, yeah?” He shoots a sharp look at the taller male.

“Either way, we’ll never let her out of our sights again.” There’s a low growl on San’s lips as he says this, filling the space with a promise which is echoed by each one of his brothers standing around you in that room.

“Nothing will ever bring her harm,” Mingi kneels behind the opposite side of your bed, hand gently resting on the edge so as not to alert you of his presence. The whole time, his eyes remain locked on your figure, dead heart racing with nothing but love as he gazes at you fondly. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“That we will.” Hongjoong hums, coming to kneel as close to your sleeping figure as he can. 

Softly, he trails his gaze over your body, noticing how you seem to shiver beneath the gentle breeze that flits through your room. He pulls your covers over your arms, risking a tender caress against your cheek once he’s done. 

“We’ll watch over you, Our Precious Fated,” He whispers lowly, hearing soft growls of agreement echo once more around the room from all of them. “You never have to worry about anything again. We promise: we'll always bring you home.”

#yandere ateez #yandere kpop #ateez scenario #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x reader #polyteez au #yandere hongjoong #yandere san #yandere seonghwa #yandere wooyoung #yandere mingi #yandere yeosang #yandere yunho #yandere jongho #san scenario #seonghwa scenario #mingi scenario #yeosang scenarios #yunho scenario #jongho scenario #wooyoung scenario #hongjoong scenario #kpop au #kpop scenario #vampire au

[leeknow-thoughts]

WINTER FALLS

tw : Jack Frost!Hyunjin, mortal!reader, sub!hyunjin, dom!reader, p in v, pillow humping, praise, slight edging

Your head hurt, when you touched it you saw the blood on your hands. Your ribs hurt. Everything hurt.Your body decided to close its eyes. You felt someone carrying you for a moment before everything went black and fuzzy.

When you did come to, you were in a warm bed. You scanned your surroundings. A cozy room made of wood. "You're finally awake," a man's voice exclaims.

You look around, finding the man, "what-"

"You were in a skiing accident, you fell down the side of a mountain," he explains.

He was blonde with tan skin. Possibly the prettiest man you've ever seen. He looked familiar somehow. Like you had seen him many times in the past. "Do I know you?" you ponder out loud.

"My name is Hyunjin," he smiles, his teeth pearly white.

You'd never heard that name before. Not even in your dreams. "You look familiar," you state.

He smiles, "where you're from they call me Jack Frost," he chuckles.

Oh you definitely had a concussion. "Prove it," you chuckle.

He takes the glass beside your bed you watch as his touch turns the lukewarm water into ice. "That proof enough?," he asks.

You simply close your eyes and pray that this is a dream. "You can't wish me away my love," he sighs, "I've had my eye on you for the longest time."

"That's creepy," you blurt.

He laughs, "not like that, for the past three years you've just always caught my eye whenever I've brought snow."

"Me?" you sit up to face him.

He nods, "you."

"Why?"

"Because you're perfect, and beautiful. At least you are during the winter," he cracks a warm smile.

You recall the memory fondly as you wait for midnight. That was the third year you had waited for him to show up. You waited until midnight on the first night of winter. He would show up. He promised you he would every year.

For the past three years he would stay with you during the winter. "You changed your hair," his familiar voice rang in your ears.

You turned around and there he was, standing in your living room. "Just cut it a bit," you reply.

He smiles warmly, "it looks lovely, you look lovely."

You cross the space between the both of you, wrapping him in a hug. He was cold like usual, at first it used to bother you, now you felt comfort in his coolness. He ran his fingers through your hair. "Missed you Hyune," you murmur into his chest.

You hated to admit it, but you had fallen in love with Hyunjin. He knew it, you told him last year before he had to leave. "Been thinking about what you told me last year," he says.

You pull apart from him, looking him in the eyes. "Wish you could stay forever," you mumble.

"There is a way, but it's just," he pauses, "I don't think you'd want to do that," he smiles.

"Well what is it?" you question him.

"We would uhm," he chokes it out, "have to fuck."

Your face went blank, you'd have to fuck the Jack Frost. "I'd do it," you say immediately.

He sighs, "I know you would but I don't want to force this on you, let's just be together, we have all winter," he smiles.

You nod, "c'mon let's go to bed, I'm tired."

First day of winter. You woke up to Hyunjin cooking you breakfast, "let's go ice skating," he suggests as he watches you eat the pancakes he had made.

You agreed, you both walked to the ice rink. And of course he had to show off when he was there.

Fourteenth day of winter, you and Hyunjin had a Christmas movie marathon. Christmas with the Kranks, The Grinch, and Christmas Vacation.

Every night he would hold you close to him, running his hands through your hair.

Twenty eighth day of winter, Hyunjin took you skiing for the weekend.

Sixtieth day of winter you both went walking in the park while it was snowing.

He would kiss you every night, holding you tenderly.

Eighty eighth day of winter, the last day. You went out to the store to grab groceries to make dinner while Hyunjin stayed back in your apartment. When you put the key into the door and swung it open, the first thing you heard was whines coming from your bedroom. You placed your bags on the ground, making a b-line to the bedroom.

The sight inside was enough to make you feral. Hyunjin was hovering over one of your stuffed animals, grinding on it, completely naked. Your mouth was watering at the sight. "You couldn't even wait hmm?" you ask.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he whimpers and tries to cover himself.

You cross the space between the two of you, "no baby, keep going, would you feel better if you saw my tits?" you hum.

He nods feverishly. You quickly remove your top, undoing your bra. Your eyes trail down to his pulsing cock. Long and veiny with a flushed tip. "Mistress, please, ngh touch me please" he whines.

"Why should I little love?" you pause, taking your nipple in your hands, twisting it gently, "you couldn't even wait for me hmm?"

"Please," he whimpers.

"If you want to cum at all Hyunjin, you'll keep humping that fucking toy," you grab his jaw making him look at you.

His hips resume their movements against the toy. He bites his lip. His eyes roll back into his head. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter. You brush your hands through his hair.

"Mama, please, ngh I need to fucking cum-" he announces.

"Stop," you command.

You see the tears spill out of his eyes as he forces himself to stop his movements. "Want you to cum in my pussy little one," you grin.

You remove your pants and panties, kicking them somewhere in your room. You lean back on the bed, opening your legs for Hyunjin.

Hyunjin leaps at the opportunity to fuck you. Moving from on top of your toy, and lining his dick up at your entrance. "Such a good boy, go ahead and put it in," you coo.

He whines as he puts it in, his face contorting. Stopping once he had filled you completely. "Mama- ngh so wet," he whimpers.

"Such a good boy, c'mon fuck mommy good," you grin.

He whimpers with each stroke of his hips. His cock filled you so deliciously. The veins of his dick rubbing against your walls. You threw your head back whenever he hit your g-spot. "Atta boy, just like that, roll your hips just like that for me," you praise.

Your head fell back when he did it again. By this point he developed a steady rhythm. "Shit you're such a good boy for mommy," you praise him again.

You closed your eyes for a moment, but reopened them when you felt Hyunjin's hand rubbing on your clit. "Fuck, that's it little love, such a good boy," you smile.

"Can I cum- ngh please-" Hyunjin begs with hooded eyes.

You nod, "cum inside me Hyune, c'mon be a good boy."

He grips onto your hips as he cums inside you. You feel it filling you up, causing you to cum with him. He threw his head back, panting hardly.

"Thank you, mama-" he thanks you, "thank you for helping me stay."

#bun.writes #bunwritesskz #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #skz x reader #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz fanfic #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bunskinkmas.2023

[princessamericachavez]

911 6x14 Spec

By the time Eddie gets home he’s welcomed by the distinct smell of Bobby’s shepherd pie recipe, which he knows for a fact Buck’s been perfecting during their shifts. It smells homey and comforting and absolutely wonderful. 

He follows the smell to the kitchen, where Buck’s washing the dishes. He’s wearing a soft navy hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and has a white drying towel slung over his shoulder. He looks at ease and comfortable and suddenly Eddie feels terribly overdressed. 

“Hey,” he calls as he walks in, taking off the red jacket his tia had insisted on for tonight. 

Buck turns around, eyebrows high with surprise. 

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah, it was... faster than I expected,” Eddie huffs a laugh, hanging the jacket on the back of a chair before sitting on it. 

“I know you said you were letting her down easy,” Buck says, turning around with his back against the counter, “but I thought you’d at least make it through dinner.”

“There was no dinner. She took me to a nightclub.”

“For a first date?” Buck laughs. “With you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It can’t be that weird for Eddie to go out dancing every once in a while. He’s thirty four, not eighty.

“Nothing, nothing! Just not what I would- never mind. Still, that’s good, right? It’s an easier place to just tell her you’re not interested.”

“You’d think,” Eddie huffs. “But she beat me to it.”

“Wait- She turned you down?” Buck’s voice is colored by something between shock and indignation, like the sole idea of not wanting to date him is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. 

“Yeah, she said she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship but her tia keeps setting her up, too. So we just decided on some fake date story and called it quits after a margarita.”

Buck seems pensive at that, for a moment, before he turns his ever curious eyes towards him. 

“Well, you said you didn’t want something serious either. Kinda sounds like the perfect match, actually, if you guys just wanted to have some fun,” he says, trying to be light, but Eddie knows him well enough to notice some caution behind his words, some trace of suspicion. 

“First of all, I never said I don’t want something serious, okay? I do,” and for some reason it seems important to him that Buck understands that bit of information. “I just... I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. Not yet, anyway.”

Ana María’s remark about not wanting her own heart broken echoes in the back of his head. 

“And second of all...?” Buck asks, eyeing him intensely. 

“Second of all, even if I didn’t want something serious, dating around and just going out... I don’t know if it’s for me. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, but being a single dad makes it complicated. I’m not letting anyone into Chris’s life unless I know I want them to stick around forever.”

Something curious happens to Buck’s face then. The expression that flashes through his eyes is a mix of confusion and delight and surprise that eventually overflows into tearfulness. It lasts a millisecond before Buck duck’s his head, trying to hide a smile, and turns around with his focus back on the dirty dishes... 

Eddie knows his best friend’s heart like he knows his own and doesn’t need any mind-reading powers to know exactly what just happened. Some day, Eddie swears, he’ll get Buck to stop looking so surprised by the fact that Eddie wants him in his life. 

“Speaking of Chris,” Buck says, with his back turned to Eddie, “he’s supposed to be in bed already, but I’m pretty sure he’s been sneaking the Percy Jackson book under the covers when he thinks I’m not looking.”

Eddie laughs at that, shaking his head. 

“I was planning on checking on him in a bit, to make sure he was sleeping,” Buck adds, like he’s trying to show Eddie he can be a responsible adult even if he has to play the mildly bad cop. 

“I’ll do it and kiss him goodnight,” he says, standing up. 

As he walks to the door, he can hear Buck getting back to work on the dishes. It makes him pause. It doesn’t seem fair that his friend, on top of helping him look after Chris, has to clean everything up. 

“You can leave that, Buck. I’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.”

Buck half turns to look at him with a confused frown. 

“Eddie, I’m not gonna just leave you with this mess. You know Bobby taught me better than that,” he smirks. “Besides, I’m nearly done. I don’t mind.”

The easy earnest in his voice makes something inside Eddie’s chest melt with fondness. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. You know I’m happy to be here,” Buck waves it off. “Go kiss, Chris.”

Eddie makes sure to make noise as he approaches his son’s bedroom and he pretends not to hear the rustling of bedsheets before he opens the door. Christopher is still too young to realize how obvious his not-sleeping-breathing is, but Eddie pretends to buy it as he kisses his forehead and brushes his curls out of his forehead. He puts the book away on the bookshelf, for good measure, and leaves the door slightly open before he walks back out. 

By the time he makes it back to the kitchen, the place is nearly spotless and there’s a plate of warm shepherd’s pie on the kitchen table. He stares at it, then at Buck, who shrugs with a sheepish smile that is way too cute for a man his size. 

“You said you didn’t get to eat dinner. Figured you must be hungry.”

The thoughtfulness of the gesture makes Eddie’s insides melt once more. His chest feels like it might burst with whatever feeling is expanding inside it. 

“Starving, actually,” he admits, sitting down. 

Buck opens the fridge and hands him a beer. 

“Wanna join me?” Eddie asks, pointing to the chair in front of him. 

“I already ate,” Buck laughs, “two servings, actually. But I’ll have a beer with you.”

Eddie watches as Buck pulls a second beer from the fridge and sits across from him, waiting until they are both seated to start eating (his mom drilled manners into him, after all). 

...and that’s how the night ends in a much sweeter note than he expected. He eats Buck’s homemade food, they drink together, one, two, three beers and maybe get a little tipsy while they talk about life, work and everything in between. Eddie laughs more than he did the whole night out and insists Buck crash his couch because it’s too late to get an Uber home (it isn’t that late, actually, but it’s ridiculous that Buck’d need to go home all alone at this point when Eddie has a perfectly good and comfortable couch). 

While Eddie helps Buck prepare his makeshift bed, his friend catches him off guard: 

“So, do you think you’ll ever be ready? I- I mean... to start dating again. For something real.”

Buck pins him with a pair of tired blue eyes, hopeful like they’d been after the lightning strike, and a little sad too. 

“Yeah... yeah, I think I’m getting there. I think... I think it depends on the person, most of all.”

“Right,” Buck nods, thoughtfully. 

“In the meantime, I gotta figure out what to do with tia Pepa. She’s not gonna relent so easily.”

“Just tell her you’re already seeing someone,” Buck shrugs, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. He closes his eyes and melts down on the soft cushions with a small smile across his lips. “You can tell her you’re dating me or something, if it’ll get her off your back.”

Eddie should laugh and brush it off, because Buck is jut kidding, but the idea makes a little too much sense to discard it just yet. 

“I might take you up on that.”

Buck’s eyes open and stare at him with pure shock that startles a laugh out of him. 

“As a last resort.”

“Ouch. I’m that bad an option, uh?” Buck winces. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“Not bad, but if I tell her that then she’s never gonna let it go and I don’t think you want her grilling you forever on how our relationship is going.”

“You’re assuming she’d believe you.”

“Right, she’d never buy it,” Eddie huffs, smiling down at his best friend. “I don’t think I’m your type.”

Buck squints up at him, a little too serious. “What do you think my type is, Diaz?”

Girls. Redheads. Emotionally unavailable women who’ll hurt you and leave you and that I’ll quietly hate forever for it. Definitely not single dads still trying to figure out their messy lives. Not that Eddie cares.

“Whatever it is, I don’t think I’m pretty enough to qualify,” Eddie similes, giving Buck’s bent knee a pat. “Sleep well, man.”

He’s tired, and tipsy, and a little confused, so he’s pretty sure he imagines it when he turns off the lights and hears Buck whisper in the dark living room, “You’re definitely pretty enough.”

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #911 fox #911 fic #911 spec

[hwangism143]

dim lights (work nights)

synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.

pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst

warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!

"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.

You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."

One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.

"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."

A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.

But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.

You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.

"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.

A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.

You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.

You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.

Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.

However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.

You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.

You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.

You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.

Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.

"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"

You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.

Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?

Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.

Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.

You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.

"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.

Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.

"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.

Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.

You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.

Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.

"Working hours are over," you said wearily.

"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.

You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"

Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.

main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows

#stray kids #skz #seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin angst #seungmin imagines #- via's fics <3

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 4801

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + once is not enough + “Do you like when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ Sorry for the massive gap in posting fics! I've been getting into the swing of things with school and I wanted to do these justice instead of rushing through them!! I also want to preface this one by acknowledging that some folks hate this trope and if that’s the case…please don’t leave me hate on it. I am merely a twenty-two year old baby living her older man fantasy (cue that tiktok of Fred Armisen going “I’m sowwy. I’m a widdle baby.” 🥺)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact!!) fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties, Joel is in his forties), slight voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, pet names (darlin’, honey, sweetheart, girl), nothing else I can think of!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You'd come home from college hoping for some relaxation over summer break. Maybe you'd catch up with family and some old friends. Or maybe you'd find yourself. The opportunities were endless and you were excited. At least until Joel waltzed into the picture. 

The last time you remembered seeing him was your going away party before you moved away for college. He'd been one of the many who clapped you on the back and congratulated you on getting into your school of choice. And when he'd looked at you with those soft eyes and said sentimentally that he was so proud of you...you had no chance at stopping the butterflies that went wild in your stomach.

His praise hit differently.

It had reminded you of a younger version of yourself who'd idolized the man. Your own father was decent. But Joel was the best. Joel was the one you'd call when you ran into trouble and he'd been keeping your secrets for as long as you could remember.

The first time you'd gotten blackout drunk during your senior year, he drove you back to his house and let you shake off the hangover before sending you back home the next morning without a word to your dad.

When your ex-boyfriend dumped you over text, who else was there to save the day but Joel Miller? With a stack of rented eighties action films and an excess of coupons for a local pizza place, Joel gave you a night that felt normal.

If you'd been alone, you might've sulked and sobbed over that shithead. But in his own brooding way, Joel proved that you were worth more than that. Part of you had been a little in love with him for it. 

So, as he'd wished you well on your journey into college, you decided you'd let go of that frivolous teenage fixation. Instead, Joel was reduced to an aspiration. A blueprint for the kind of guy you wanted to be with. A blueprint that had proven to be nearly impossible to fulfill.

To your shock and surprise, most college guys in their twenties couldn't keep up with the maturity of a man who was rapidly approaching his forties. You couldn't help but feel a little repulsed by your new dating pool. Which propelled you to focus more on your studies...which only stressed you out even more. By the time finals came around, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out.

This summer was well earned. And you hated to admit that you'd been a little too enthusiastic to possibly see Joel again.

You hadn't necessarily been looking for Joel's attention. Upon your homecoming, your parents have invited him and a few other family friends over for a barbecue. It should've been a night of ice cold beers and suburban simplicity. But the itinerary suddenly changed once you got some time alone with him.

Standing on the back porch, you watched your parents and their other friends laugh and roast marshmallows over the fire pit on the lawn. As you rested against the wooden railing, you nursed a beer; your third one that night.

Joel emerged from the sliding glass back door with a bear of his own and took a place beside you on the deck.

As doting as ever, he gestured to your drink and asked, "How many of those have you had tonight?"

"Only a few." 

Joel raised an eyebrow.

"Easy, old man," you giggled. "I've spaced them out. So I'm not drunk. Just a little tipsy."

"Ah, so I take it that college taught you how to handle your alcohol better, huh?"

You smacked his shoulder which earned a laugh from him. When his head turned, you got a real good look at him. He'd hardly changed save for a few stray silver hairs and his facial hair being a little scruffier. If anything, those changes only made him that much more enthralling.

So enthralling that it was nearly impossible to pay attention to his small talk. He did what everyone else did. Asked about your classes, your major, what you wanted to do with your degree after graduating. You answered each question with quick answers, eager to get to something more nitty gritty. Because that was what you appreciated Joel most for: his ability to cut through the pointless fat and treat you like an adult. Something that you were sorely missing after only a few days back at home.

You'd taken a long swig of your beer before throwing caution to the wind. "So, Joel?" he looked over at you with raised brows. Then you asked, "You seein' anyone?"

His chest rumbled with a small laugh before he took a sip of her own beer. With his lips pursed around the mouth of the bottle and his eyes crinkled, he tried to conceal his amusement. "Nope," he replied with an air of casualty. "How about you, darlin'? You breakin' those college boys' hearts?"

You scoffed, "No, more like they're breakin' mine."

His brow creased with concern. "Do I need to break some bones?"

"As kind as that sounds...I wouldn't have anybody in particular to send ya to."

That caught his attention. "You mean you're not seeing anybody?"

Not wanting to sound like a complete loser, you explained, "I tried to go on a few dates at the start of the semester. But none of them really worked out. They just weren't my type."

A note of silence passed over you two before Joel wondered, "What would you say is your type, darlin'?"

You wished Joel hadn't been staring at you, waiting for your answer. He had to know this was dangerous territory. He had to know that it wasn't an easy thing to casually admit; the fact that you searched for him in every single man you'd gone out with. 

"Oh, you know..." you trailed off wearily. "Intelligent, strong-willed, no nonsense...but with a good sense of humor...mature–"

"Mature?"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You thought of an explanation quickly, "Yeah. Like...someone who's developed..." Joel eyed you strangely. "...in the mind, I mean. I don't want a guy who I have to practically train before I feel like I could date him."

Joel nodded thoughtfully before teasing, "Well, honey, if you're looking for a mature man...I think a college campus is one of the worst places you could've picked to look."

"Where should I start looking instead?"

His next words seemed to be testing the waters. "Maybe...maybe you should be lookin' a little closer to home."

For the first time you got the idea that it could be possible. He'd only ever looked at you straight with no inkling of duplicity. But now his eyes were going up and down, taking you in like he hadn't ever looked at you right before.

"How close are you thinking?" you asked.

Tipping his head back, Joel drank the last sip of his beer and you watched his Adam's apple bob. Watched a drop of the liquid gold fall from the corner of his mouth before disappearing into his beard. Watched as he set the bottle down on the handrail and straightened himself out.

Then he replied just loud enough for only you to hear, "Maybe the kitchen."

The descent into deviance came fast. From the moment you leaned back against the kitchen counter, Joel's lips were on yours. He tasted like the hops from his drink and smelled woody, it was a distinctly masculine combination that had made you clench your thighs together.

With his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you through the kiss in only the way he could and ensured that it ended before you were ready for it to. His nose bumped against yours as he searched your glazed over expression for any kind of reluctance.

"You sure you want this, darlin'?"

"Fuck, yes. Please," you pleaded breathlessly.

Once he let out a little laugh, he turned you around and you braced yourself on the counter. Starting below your ear, Joel trailed down your neck and along your shoulder. One of his hands was making a similar journey from your hip right up to one of your tits. 

You gasped as he squeezed the mound of flesh gently and you had never been more glad to have taken off your bra earlier on in the day. Because Joel seemed incredibly pleased feeling the full weight of your tit in his hand, all warm and willing to be played with.

His other hand went the opposite direction. Down, down, down it went until it was cupping your sex over your jeans. Which were becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you squirmed in a fruitless attempt to find friction. Middle finger running up the seam of your jeans, you knew that if you were two layers lighter, he'd be so close to dipping into your folds. He was so close it could've driven you insane.

His lips were by your ear again when he whispered, "Do you like when I touch you like this?"

Back pressed flat against his heaving chest, you nodded.

Joel toyed with your zipper. "I can keep going if you want me to..." 

You nodded once more and whined, "Please, Joel, please. Keep going."

And keep going he did. He kept going until you'd finished on his fingers twice. The first orgasm had been hard and quick, intensified by two of his thick fingers fucking you through it. Nothing could be done to conceal the sticky sounds of your cunt clenching around his digits nor the sound of you panting as you came down from the high.

With every ounce of your being you hoped and prayed that you wouldn't be interrupted. Because there was no normal excuse for Joel having his hand down your pants and his erection poking into your back. None whatsoever. And besides, getting caught meant ruining your parent's suburban simplicity.

So, for the second climax, Joel clapped a hand over your mouth and murmured, "Let it all out, honey. Don't worry, no one'll hear. I promise." You followed his directions to a T; practically shrieking when this climax crept up on you and washed over you in a relentless wave that had your thighs trembling and your back arching. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

Because when Joel pulled his hand out of your pants and wiped them off on his own jeans, all you wanted was more. Your body ached with that want.

As much as you knew that Joel was just looking out for you both, it felt like he was deliberately being mean when he mumbled, "Better get back out there before folks get suspicious."

With a quick peck and a light tap on your ass, Joel sent you off. Slick still plastering your underwear to your needy pussy, you waltzed back outside on shaky legs.

And it seemed like your mind spent every waking second thinking about it; about him. His voice, his hands, his scent, his body. Each aspect on its own could make you wet all over again. But all together? He turned you into a goddamn mess.

You couldn't shake him. Like an ever present itch, Joel had etched himself into your bones, ruining you for anyone else. And he made it all the more difficult to forget about him in the aftermath. It astounded you how Joel could shamelessly hang around your dad after that night, offering to help out with his various projects before sitting in your living room and watching baseball with him, just feet away from where Joel had defiled you. That was the brazen behavior that made you hide away in your room for that first week.

The night your parents decided to go out on an impromptu date, you were relieved. With some time alone to think and breathe, you'd sort yourself out. Tonight was reserved as a Joel Miller free evening.

Throwing yourself on the couch, you turned on some show you'd abandoned ages ago. You couldn't quite remember the majority of the plot threads. But that didn't really matter anyways. You doubted you could've scrapped together the mental awareness anyways. All of it was focused on him.

No matter how much you tried to distract yourself, your mind wandered back to him. The promise of his hard cock and his firm hands. Every part of him still had you hypnotized.

Not even your own hand could break that. For a good few minutes you fruitlessly played with yourself. You felt silly and almost pitiful trying to replicate the motions Joel had made. But it wasn't the motions you weren't getting right. It was the feeling. It was the thickness of just his middle finger separating your folds before squeezing your lips between three digits. It was his breath on your neck and his words egging you on. It was the edge of danger. It was the fact that he shouldn't have been able to stir up all of that arousal within you. And it was the fact that he did regardless.

You could never replicate that on your own.

Ruined. Fucking ruined.

Too lazy to get up and grab your vibrator from your room upstairs to help you along, you laid back and whined pathetically, relieved you had the house to yourself. But some 

higher power had to be at play and had a fucked up sense of humor. 

"What the hell are you doin'?"

Head snapping up, you spot the one man you didn't want to see ever again standing in the archway leading into the living room.

Joel Miller had his brow arched like this was some sort of surprise. Like you were on his couch in his living room in his house playing with his–

Before you let yourself finish the thought, you spoke, anger flooding your tone, "What the hell are you doing here? My dad isn't home, so what do you want?"

Joel leaned against the archway casually, still with an air of confidence that felt entirely too cocky. "I know," he shot back. "He said he and your mom would be out late tonight. 

Gave me a spare key earlier and asked if I'd check in on ya on my way home." 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you responded quickly, "Well...you've checked in. I'm fine. Thank you."

And you know the second the words leave your lips that Joel doesn't believe them. He doesn't move. Instead, he surveys your figure sprawled on the length of the couch. Of course Joel is smart enough to infer your guilt. There's almost no innocent reason for your legs to be spread so wide, for your hair to already be so mussed up.

He tilted his head slightly and you knew he was putting the pieces together and picturing you writhing against that couch minutes before.

Finally, he concluded, "You don't seem all that fine, honey."

"I'm perfectly alright. I don't need anything else from you, Joel," you spoke his name pointedly, almost a warning against whatever other ideas he was concocting.

Silence. And you partially hoped that would be the end of it.

Instead he ambles further into the room before seating himself near your feet and gazing across at you. "Are we gonna talk about it at all?"

His furrowed brow threatened to make you fold. But you were determined to stay strong, licking your lips and starting shakily, "I don't see the point. What happened was a one time thing and...I don't want it to happen again."

"You don't want it happening? Or it shouldn't happen?"

"Is there really that much of a difference?"

"There's a massive difference. Because one suggests that you want it to happen again."

"It shouldn't happen, Joel," you answered solidly.

"Then tell me you haven't thought about it once since the other night." Testing the waters, he planted a hand between your knees and slid further up the couch, closer to you. "Tell me that you haven't been desperate to come like that again," he ordered.

"Joel–"

"Ah," he tutted. "Just tell me and I'll be on my way."

You're angry and already aroused. Because he knows that you can't say it. He knows you can't lie to him like that and that fact makes you feel more vulnerable than ever.

"I think about you all the time," you admitted carefully. "So much that it scares me."

At that, Joel's stare softened and he smiled sentimentally. "Me too, darlin'. Me too." It ignited that familiar warmth in your core. The kind that craved being kindled and grown until it could consume you. 

"Is that what you were doing just now? Thinkin' of me?" he asked, eye flickering down to the crumpled front of your pajama shorts.

You could only nod.

"Did you get off?"

This time you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. You expected him to laugh at the miserable little confession. Teasing and poking fun had always been part of his personality and – more importantly – part of the casual relationship you'd once shared with him.

He complicated it even further as he cooed with concern, "Oh, little darlin', why not?" It was obvious that shyness would no longer cut it. He wanted words; wanted all of the gory details of just how much damage he'd done with only a few minutes. 

So you indulged him. 

"Because it wasn't you. I can think about you...but that doesn't replace you actually being there."

Joel's cockiness returned as he replied, "You're damn right it doesn't. But we can fix that, right?"

Nodding again, you found yourself treading dangerous waters once more. But this time you didn't mind it all that much. It felt natural when Joel slotted his body between your legs. The warmth emanating from his broad chest immediately encased you; made you feel undeniably safe.

This time his kiss was slow, soaking up the time he knew he now had. The first time he touched you, it seemed like a favor. A reprieve from dozens of disappointments from those pesky college boys. This time, however, it was entirely decadent. It was a strange sort of care and days of tension being channeled into a full on make out session that clogged your senses like molasses.

Joel made his way down your jaw and as soon as his mouth touched down on your neck, he was sucking a mark that would no doubt be noticed by your parents before too long. That was worth the risk to have his hot breath fanning across your skin as he kissed the bruising skin better. 

He didn't have to say it, but you knew that he made the mark on purpose. And you couldn't even scold him for it. Deep down, you wanted to remember this for a while. You wanted to keep him like a secret. You wanted to look at it and know that he was the only one who could do this to you.

Joel's voice rasped beside your ear, "You know what I did after you left that night?"

"Hm?"

"You made me so hard that it wouldn't go away on its own. I had to take care of it all by myself."

"Aw, how sad," you murmured and held his face in your hands. "Poor you."

"Poor me is right. But all I had to do was think of that wet little pussy keeping me warm. Squeezin' me. That did the trick real quick. I don't think I've come that hard in a long while, darlin'. And it's been stuck in my mind ever since."

You had to admit that as much as his words spurred up those sparks and gave you a massive ego boost, it also scared the shit out of you.

"What if I can't live up to what you pictured?" you wondered.

"Honey," Joel began. "As long as you can spread those legs, let me in, and make those pretty sounds for me again, I promise you ain't disappointing anyone."

"I could think of multiple people who'd object to that..." you began to think to yourself. But before you could really finish it, Joel was taking your hand and dragging it south until you hit the denim covering his crotch. He rolled his hips a few times, allowing your palm to run up and down the full length of his cock. Fuck, he was hard. And big. Big enough that your brain scrambled, struggling to handle how intensely the want within you multiplied.

Joel chuckled as you put both hands to work, frantically undoing his jeans. "Jesus, sweetheart, you really don't know the meaning of the word patience, do you?"

"I do. I just know what I want," you replied. Sensing Joel's awe, you continued, "And what I want is for you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me on this couch. I want to feel you for days. I want you to show me everything you've got. Show me you're better than those college boys."

That tapped into something primal in him. Because soon he's rushing to pull his cock out. If his fingers had been filling, you could only imagine how the length would feel once it filled you to the brim.

Joel pulled the flimsy and soaked fabric of both your shorts and panties aside. Running a finger between the folds, he finished every caress with a languid circle of your aching clit. After a few swipes, he drew his hand back and eyed the glistening digit before bringing it to your mouth.

"Have a taste, tell me what it's like."

Opening your mouth, you took his finger graciously and ran your tongue along the underside teasingly. Hollowing your cheeks, you began to suck, taking it back and forth like you would his cock. Before his breathing could get too heavy, you pulled your lips off with a wet little smack and admired how the skin of his finger had already begun to prune.

"So?" Joel's voice broke on the single word.

You contemplated on how to best describe your arousal before settling on giving him a taunting glare and declaring, "I don't know, maybe you should have a taste too." Before Joel could question the statement, you grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and tugged him down to your lips, kissing him deep and slow and dragging your tongue along the seam of his lips. When you detached from him with a soft moan, a thin trail of spit kept your mouths connected.

"You best believe I'm getting a taste of that pussy before summer's over," he sputtered out.

"Only if you fuck me first," you promised dangerously.

With that motivation, Joel was quick to take his cock in hand and give himself a few pumps that already sounded wet with his own pre-come. Carefully and experimentally, he slid the underside of his cock between your folds and you swore to god you could feel the blood rushing through his veins. It was all driving you insane.

"I'll try to go slow," he said tenderly. Then, with the fat head of his cock pressed against your entrance, you were overwhelmed with anticipation.

It was an expectation that was satiated more and more as each inch of him sunk into you. Your breath kept getting caught in your throat and it took everything in you not to cry at just how full you felt. You panted, attempting to catch your breath after being engulfed by him. 

You knew Joel was going through something similar when his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. For a moment it made you wonder when the last time he felt a cunt was. In all the time you'd known him, he'd never mentioned anyone, never brought anyone around, never even hinted at having any sort of romantic or sexual life. But you're doubted that he was untrained or inexperienced with the control he exercised, keeping his movements gentle and steadying his breath with each rise and fall of his belly. 

Even when you squeezed – just to see what would happen – Joel only winced and asked carefully, "You doin' alright, honey? Need me to stop?"

You were getting sick of this southern charm and gentlemanly manner. Both of you were way past the point of decency.

You meant to sound mean when you snapped, "For fucks's sake, Joel. I need you to fuck me. Now."

"Well, if you're gonna be such a brat about it..." he trailed off, returning your attitude.

He started to pull out, ever so slowly. Then, with his hands gripping your thighs tight, he slammed back in. The impact made you yelp in surprise.

"Is that how you want it, darlin'? You want me to fuck you hard?"

Head starting to fog, you nodded, added on a weak, "Please."

"Alright, since you asked so politely."

He does it again. And again. One after another, Joel delivers every thrust relentlessly. With each articulated stroke, he grunted and it prodded at something volatile inside you. Something that threatened to burst as he stretched and split you apart at the same time. You couldn't remember a time where you'd ever been touched that deep. And fuck, you were so terribly sensitive to it, your whimpers and gasps accompanying Joel's groans.

His movements were greedy, aiming to take as much as he possibly could and you were all too willing to give it to him; clenching eagerly around his cock and nails searching for purchase in the taut muscles of his back.

Like animals, you both scratched and clawed away at each other until there was nothing left but trembling, sweat slicked skin and the decade old couch threatening to give way beneath you both. Though there was a masterfulness in his motions, you could tell that was quickly fading as his thrusts weakened and he stuttered for breath.

Joel buried his head in the crook of your neck and hissed through gritted teeth, "I can't hold on for much longer, darlin'. You feel so fuckin'...fuck...so fuckin' good..."

"Give me your hand," you whined.

You took it, brought it between both your bodies, and held it over your clit. Joel quickly got the picture and divided his attention between your weeping hole and the sorely neglected nub above it. How he managed to uphold a modicum of gentleness with it, you had no clue. All you knew was that as soon as his fingertips began to brush those coveted circles over you, that was when the tears began to fall. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the white hot pleasure that was burning right through you, visualizing the inferno growing and growing until it had no choice but to explode.

But your eyelids snapped open at Joel's biting tone, "You better look me in the eyes when you come. I need to see it."

Not having it in you to argue or protest, you tried to follow his simple direction. No matter how much you wanted to shut your eyes and somehow try to brace yourself for your incoming orgasm, you had to do as he said. Partially because you wanted him to be proud of you again, but also because you couldn't miss his expression either.

You were glad you withstood the urge because right as you started to come undone, you felt Joel's cock pulse. Then there was the telltale rush of warmth inside you as his seed filled you up. His hand slowing on your clit, you watched as his mouth hung open, letting out a deliciously ravenous groan as you milked him dry. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and the curve of his nose before he wiped them away lazily and collapsed on top of you.

Being in his forties, you weren't surprised that a single fuck could wipe him out so thoroughly. And you gave a breathless chuckle when he confirmed his exhaustion with a low, "Jesus, you wear me out, girl."

"Good," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and running a hand through his messy, damp hair.

You had no idea when your parents would be home. But you knew that Joel would have to be gone before then. Already you weren't looking forward to that parting. You couldn't bear the thought of his cock slipping out of you, leaving you empty again. And most of all you dreaded when you'd inevitably hear him say goodnight. Because you knew he would; he was polite like that, even after railing you into the family room couch.

For now he was yours. And there was nothing wrong with any of it, you told yourself.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚ #hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut

[babydollmarauders]

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n spent her high school years changing herself to become what she thought was Jack’s type, but when they meet again a few years later, she learns that she never needed to change in order for him to like her.

warnings: eating disorder mentioned and lightly described, weed mention/use, alcohol mention/use, light profanity, changing yourself for a guy (yes, that is a warning), this is mostly angst.

notes: one of my most relatable Taylor songs to my favorite guy <3 this was proofread but if you see anything insensitive, please let me know so i can change it. for timeline purposes, i should mention that i wrote this with a summer birthday in mind for y/n.

important: THIS FIC IS NOT ROMANTICIZING ED’S. if you’re struggling with an ED, please know that you can message me any time! i understand the pain and frustration and i will always be there to help in any way possible.

14 YEARS OLD

it was in my freshman year of high school that i noticed i was a bit different than other girls my age. with them having middle school relationships under their belt, and most being in sports rather than chorus like me. i didn’t really think much of it, as boys played no part in my life besides as defacto muses for my songs. but i still felt out of place.

16 YEARS OLD

it was in the summer before my junior year that i met Jack Hughes. a USNTDP hockey player and my first official crush. my family had rented a lake house and the Hughes’ ended up being our neighbors for the summer. My parents quickly befriended Ellen and Jim, and when they realized they had children the same age, all four of them tried for weeks to get Jack and i to hang out. but to no avail, because i was shutting myself in my room for some quiet writing time, and Jack was always busy with his brothers. but when i had slipped away from my parents to go for an evening swim one night, apparently Jack had the same idea. we saw each other at the lake and got to talking, becoming friends pretty quickly after that. it was 2 weeks into the friendship that i realized he made me feel things that my other guy friends didn’t.

when we split up at the end of the summer, we promised to text, but a couple weeks later i was pleasantly surprised when i was called into the school office to show him around. with pretty similar schedules, we were seeing each other in school quite a bit, and from that our friendship only grew. i sat with him and his friends at lunch, he would pick me up for school on the mornings that my car wouldn’t start, and he would even walk me to my classes sometimes.

but because of that, my feelings grew too. i did a full one-eighty, changing my entire personality. i stopped spending my weekends at home, instead opting to attend parties, just in hopes of seeing Jack there. and i found any excuse to talk to him, for even just a minute.

**

i’m sitting in my room, struggling with my math homework when my phone starts ringing. i peel my eyes away from the worksheet to glance over at it, and my heart flutters when i see Jack’s name, his picture lighting up the screen. i quickly press the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.

“hey” i say.

“hey! you texted saying you have a question?” his voice is raspy, words coming out slow and slightly slurred, and i can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole talking in the background. he’s smoking weed.

“uh, yeah. i had a question about the Algebra 2 homework, but i can just ask you tomorrow when you’re in a better state of mind.” i laugh.

“how’d you know?” i can hear his grin through the phone, and it makes me smile.

“call it best friend’s intuition. i’ll let you get back to the guys.” i tell him. we say our goodbyes and i hang up, taking another second to stare at my phone with a goofy smile before i turn back to my math homework.

**

during the school year, i listened to him talk about each girl he was seeing throughout the year. each of them pretty, skinny, and blonde. and eventually, i wondered if he would like me as more than his annoying best friend, if i looked like those girls. so i would stare in my mirror for hours some nights, pinpointing things i should change about myself. as like most teenage girls, i had always been insecure, wishing to change myself. but now i learned to use Jack as an excuse for it. and from there, things started developing.

i begged my mom for weeks to let me dye my hair, and when she finally caved, i went to the salon and went blonde. but my hair wasn’t the only thing that changed. my eating habits were altered. slowly at first, just cutting out certain foods, and then all at once. i started skipping meals, excusing myself from dinner by saying i had a large lunch, leaving the house quickly in order to avoid breakfast, and only eating at lunch when Jack expressed concern about my lack of food. like now.

“good afternoon, hockey knuckleheads. your favorite person has arrived.” i announce my arrival at the lunch table while dropping my book bag by my seat, interrupting the boys current conversation. they all look at me, quickly saying their hello’s.

“y/n, you’d give me an autograph, right?” Trevor asks, and my face pinches in confusion.

“uh, what?” i ask.

“like, if you knew you were gonna be famous one day. you’d give me an autograph right now, right?” he clarifies.

“ignore him.” Jack laughs, pushing Trevor’s face away from he and i. he turns back to look at me, eyeing the empty tabletop in front of me. his smile drops and he turns to his backpack, pulling out a protein bar. he throws it over on the table in front of me, it landing with a smack, making me flinch.

“eat.” he tells me. my eyes bounce between the snack and him, studying his serious expression.

“i’m fine, Jack. i ate a big breakfast this morning, so i’m not hungry. keep this for when you need it at practice.” i tell him, sliding the snack back towards him. but of course my stomach speaks volumes, deciding right then to grumble loudly. Jack raises an eyebrow at me and slides the bar back over to me. i sigh, opening it up and taking a bite. he smiles at the sight, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“good girl.”

17 YEARS OLD

it’s the end of senior year now, and i’ve gotten no closer to dating Jack than i was before. i’ve spent countless nights alone in my room, writing songs about him and crying over snapchat stories of him with other girls.

it’s another friday night, and that means another party in hopes of Jack seeing me dressed up. this time, my own party. with my parents out of town for the weekend, i took the chance to throw a party, inviting what felt like my entire grade in a mass text.

i walk around the house, my blonde hair curled and in a half-up-half-down do. i’m decked out in a tight fit black mini dress with black ballet flats to match, and i did a full glam makeup look. i scan the living room for Jack, but when i finally find him, i immediately feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

he’s sat on the couch, a pretty blonde draped across his lap, whispering in his ear as he nods, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and a grin on his face. our friends were sat around him, some having their own discussions, and some singing along to the music playing on the surround sound speakers.

i go to spin back around, fully planning on going upstairs to my room for a quick cry, but before i can fully turn, i lock eyes with Jack. he raises his hand in a wave and beckons me over and i offer a weak smile in return. i look around the party once more and feel something snap inside of me.

i feel so stupid. i’ve spent the last almost two years of my life changing myself to try and get his attention and to have him look at me in a new light. spent almost two years overanalyzing his every move and i let my final two years of high school slip by me. instead of living in the moment and enjoying my rapidly declining time with my friends, i was wondering if Jack had seen my snapchat story, or if he did then why didn’t he slide up? amongst various other things to do with him.

i was done revolving my entire life and every decision i make around a guy who obviously doesn’t like me the way i like him.

21 YEARS OLD

it’s been four years since i started living for myself. in that time, i went to a treatment center for my eating disorder, graduated college, moved to New Jersey for a new job, and made new friends. i haven’t talked to Jack in three of those years. not because i didn’t want to, but because after high school, our friendship fizzled out. he went on to play in the NHL, and i went to college. we both lived busy lives, and it became too much to handle. i still talk to the other guys, Trevor the most, but not nearly as much as i used to.

now i’m sat in a club. it’s a saturday night, and my friend Yaz wanted to go do her favorite hobby. seeing how many men she can get to buy her free drinks. currently, she’s chatting up a cute brunette with an accent out on the dance floor, and i’m sat by myself at the bar. drinking an almost gone shirley temple and wondering why i agreed to go out when i would much rather be snuggled on my couch with a blanket and a movie. i’m debating telling Yaz that i’m gonna leave, when a guy sidles up next to me, taking the seat on my right and throwing me a smile.

“hi, i’m Dawson.” he holds his hand out and i slip mine in it, shaking.

“hi, i’m y/n.” he nods before turning back to a table of guys.

“IT’S HER!” he yells over, and my brows furrow, face pinching in confusion. he turns back to me and smiles again. “sorry. my friend said he thought he knew you, but he didn’t wanna come over and then be wrong.”

it’s at that moment that a shadow encases us, and i glance over my shoulder to see the one person i wasn’t expecting.

“hey!” Jack takes a seat on Dawson’s abandoned chair. i didn’t even notice he had slipped away. “it’s been so long!”

i blink a few times, just taking in the man in front of me. he looks good. like, really good. i wasn’t naive enough to think that the love i held for him had been snuffed out, i’m just comfortable with myself enough now, that i know that changing myself for him won’t do anything except hurt me.

“hey.” i breathe out. “wow. uh, i wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“yeah, i wasn’t really expecting to see you either. what are you doing in New Jersey?” he asks. okay, it’s not like i’m stupid. i knew Jack lived in New Jersey. i just also know it’s a big state and the possibility of us running into each other was slim. but apparently the universe likes to laugh in my face.

“i live here.” i tell him. “i moved here a few months ago, for a job.”

“and you didn’t call me? i thought we were friends!” he jokes, and i stiffen at the word. friends. yeah, that’s all we’ve ever been. “can we go somewhere? to talk?”

i nod and he leads me out of the club. i send a quick text to Yaz that i went outside for a few minutes, and she responds with a thumbs up emoji. Jack and i stop outside the entrance. the club stopped letting people in about half an hour ago, so there’s no line, just us and a bouncer standing about fifteen feet away at the entrance.

“well, you look good! you went back to your natural hair color, i like it. it suits you better than the blonde.” Jack starts off, and his words strike a nerve in my heart. he didn’t like me blonde? i knew it didn’t change anything with how he felt about me, but i didn’t know he disliked it in general.

“you look healthier too. that makes me really happy, y/n. my mom told me a couple years ago that your mom said you got treatment for your…disorder. i’m really proud of you.” my heart breaks a little more at his soft tone, he seems genuine. “i saw you earlier, with your friend. you have the spark in your eye back. i’m really glad you seem happy again. i’m just sorry i didn’t do anything before, to help you with anything you were going through. i was a naive kid, i just thought you’d come to me if you were struggling. but looking back, i realize that i should’ve reached out to help you regardless.”

“Jack, you shouldn’t blame yourself. you were a kid. i was a kid too, i didn’t understand the full extent of what i was doing.” i tell him. tears prick at my eyes and i blink them away.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks.

“of course.” i nod.

“why did you do it? was there a reason? i mean, at the time, it felt like you completely just changed overnight. but maybe it was a gradual thing and i just didn’t realize it back then.” i lose hope in keeping my tears at bay, letting one roll freely down my cheek. “you don’t have to tell me. obviously. it’s your business. i just- i’ve been wondering.”

i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to explain.

“i was a naive kid, Jack. i liked a guy and i thought if i changed myself, maybe he would like me too. but it didn’t work, and instead i realized that i was just harming myself by not eating, doing things i hated, going to parties just to try and get his attention. looking back at it now, it was stupid. but back then, it seemed like the best idea i had ever had.”

“you did all that for a guy?” he asks. but his tone isn’t the usual one i get from people when i tell them about my past. it’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or even pitiful. he just sounds, sad. i just nod my head. “well, whoever he was, he wasn’t worth it. if a guy doesn’t like you for you, then he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you. i’m really glad you see that now. although, i wish you would’ve known it before.”

if only he knew.

“switching the topic.” i say, and he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been good. just, trying not to get injured on ice, ya know?” i nod along.

“oh yeah, i remember. i still don’t understand why you would put yourself through that barbaric game.” i joke and he laughs. the sound causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and it almost feels no time has gone by at all. i still feel like a lovesick teenager.

before either of us can speak again, my drunk friend stumbles out of the club, an arm looped through Dawson’s.

“hey, i thought i’d bring this one back to you. she kinda seems like she might need to sober up some.” Dawson tells me, and i thank him. Yaz lays her head on my shoulder, and Dawson says his goodbye to me and Yaz before slipping back inside.

“who’s this?” Yaz stage whispers, studying Jack who still stands in front of me. Jack and i laugh at her drunken attempt at being quiet.

“this is Jack.” i tell her. “Jack this is my friend, Yaz.”

“Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.” Yaz repeats, and it’s like i can see the gears turning in her head. “that name sounds so familiar. Jack.”

“hey, wait! isn’t that the name of that guy you told me about? the one you were madly in love with in high school?” she blurts out, and my eyes turn as wide as saucers. i can feel my face heating up. i turn to look at my friend, who apparently has absolutely no filter when she’s had too much to drink. before any of us can say another word, a blue car pulls up and Yaz’s sister, Cara, steps out. “Yay! my ride!”

Yaz stumbles over to her, only stopping to turn and blow me a kiss before letting her sister help her in the car. Cara throws me a smile and a goodnight before getting in herself and driving away. leaving only me and the guy Yaz just exposed my love for.

i turn back to Jack, finding him wide eyed and repeatedly blinking. i open my mouth, but nothing comes out. i’m not sure what to say. but apparently Jack does.

“it was me?” he asks, pointing to his chest. “i was the guy?”

i feel like i might be sick. i never meant for him to know. i thought i would take that secret to my grave. i manage a weak nod, not able to physically speak.

“why- i mean- why did you think you had to do those things to yourself, y/n? i- i’m just— i’m so confused.”

“you had a type.” i shrug. “you dated all these girls, in high school. and they all had the same things in common. blonde, skinny, pretty, outgoing. you liked all those girls romantically so i thought maybe if i was more like them, you would like me like that too.”

“but i did like you like that!” he exclaims. i furrow my brows and my nose scrunches in confusion.

“what?” i whisper.

“i did like you romantically! i just thought i never had a chance with you. so, i busied myself with other girls. why do you think none of them ever lasted long?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i never really thought about that.” my head swarms with all this new information.

“because, they weren’t you.” he pleads. “i tried to forget those feelings for you by dating other girls, girls that before i met you, were my type. but they weren’t you. none of them were you.”

he steps forward, taking my face in his hands.

“i can’t believe you thought you had to change for me. fuck, i’m so stupid. i should’ve just told you i liked you when i first realized my feelings.” he breathes out.

“you can tell me now if you want?” i offer meekly, my head spinning. i want to kiss him. i’ve waited almost six years for this moment, and dear god i want to kiss him. now quite possibly more than ever.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers. “i’ve loved you since the summer we were sixteen and you tried to push me off the dock into the lake, and i pulled you in with me. i still remember when you popped back up in front of me in the water. my first thought was ‘she’s so beautiful.’”

i inhale a shaky breath before tilting my head up to cover his lips with mine. kissing him with desperation and need. need to not waste another second that i could spend being with him. Jack is frozen for a second before his lips start moving against mine. his hands trail down my body to grip my hips, pulling me towards him. we fit together like a puzzle piece. my own hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck. we pull away from each other, and i look into his eyes.

“i love you too.” i whisper. “if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“yeah? i don’t know, i think you might need to show me again.” he smirks and leans back down capturing my lips in a kiss once more.

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #midnights fic list #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nj devils #hockey fic #hockey imagine

[winchesterszvonecek]

could you do a connor piece with these two prompts? theyre not from the same list so i hope thats okay 🩷

"I'm not gonna let you cum no matter how much you want it."

+

“So, what's going on between you and [name] recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden."

and its like the reader is a firefighter at 51 and close to kelly or casey / got closer to one of them and yeah :)

All Yours - [ Connor Rhodes ] 18+

Prompt: “So, what’s going on between you and [name] recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” + “I’m not gonna let you cum no matter how much you want it.”

Word Count: 2550 i couldn’t stop myself

Warnings: female!reader, strong language, jealousy, possessiveness, smut - [ vaginal fingering, oral - fem!receiving, edging, dirty talk… so much dirty talk, unprotected sex ]

A/N: i was so nervous to post this cause it feels so goddamn filthy but i did it anyway so hopefully y’all enjoy it and i didn’t go way off the rails lmao

Masterlist | Connor Masterlist

You knew something was wrong the minute you got into the car and Connor hadn’t immediately kissed your cheek then asked you how your shift was. You could tell simply by the way he stayed silent the whole ride home, his hands gripping the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles had turned white and you were surprised they hadn’t broken through his skin.

It was unlike him to not ask you a hundred questions revolving around your day at work, and even more unlike him not to kiss you, so if you hadn’t been suspicious enough, then his stiff posture and lack of eye contact with you would have been evidence enough. And when he didn’t place his hand on your thigh each time you stopped at a red light, you knew you were in trouble, only you had no idea why.

You didn’t know what was bothering him, what you could have done to make him this way, and in all honesty you were scared to ask which is why you stayed as quiet as he did during the ride home. But the second you stepped foot into your shared apartment, where you’d just about managed to find the courage to ask him what was wrong, Connor beat you to it and he wasn’t at all subtle in hiding his obvious annoyance over what he’d seen when he came to pick you up.

“So, what’s going on between you and Casey recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” Connor asked, his tone a little bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the couch as you tilted your head a little, ignoring the anger that built inside him when you laughed softly.

“Me and Casey?” You shook your head, glancing briefly around the room before your eyes landed back on him. “Connor, I’ve told you this before, he’s my Lieutenant, that’s it. Nothing more” You added, scoffing a little at the insinuation he was so clearly making as you made your way to the bedroom, deciding you’d heard enough of what he had to say.

You’d had this conversation with him once before when he caught Casey hugging you in the hospital after a rough call and that hadn’t gone well so he could forgive you for not wanting to go down that road again.

“Oh really? Well it seems to me like he thinks differently… Especially if the way he looked at you when I picked you up said anything on the matter.” Connor said with a touch more anger as he followed you into the room, even the sight of the eighty-one shirt covering your torso enough to have his blood boil over the memory of how Casey had looked at you.

“How he looked at me?” You repeated, your tone matching his as you couldn’t believe he was making you go through this again. “Tell me Connor, how was he looking at me? Cause if it was anything less than with drool coming from his mouth then I don’t want to hear it.”

“He might as well have been drooling.” Connor scoffed, pulling his shirt over his head with such haste that he was surprised his head hadn’t come off with it. “The way he watched you… Practically fucking you with his eyes right in front of me.”

“For God sakes, Connor.” You muttered in frustration, pulling your own shirt off and tossing it in the hamper. All you wanted was a quiet morning after work, but it appeared as though your fiancée thought otherwise and little did you know… “How many times do I have to tell you? Casey does not want to fuck me. And even if he did…”

Unaware that Connor had been moving towards you, your words were cut off when you suddenly felt your chest hit hard against the wall, sending a tingle down your front which quickly made its way between your legs when you felt Connor push up against you, lifting your hands to pin them above your head, making you unable to see how he stared at you the very same way he’d accused Casey of.

“What? Would you let him fuck you?” He whispered, his voice so deep he was practically growling as he attached his lips to your neck, the pure heat coursing through your veins making you unable to reply.

You could feel his free hand snake around your waist, his fingertips trailing down your stomach before they delved beneath your trousers, ghosting over your already throbbing pussy and causing a soft moan to escape your lips as you leaned back against him, his hardened bulge pressing firmly against your ass.

“Would you let him pin you down in his office and fuck that tight little pussy of yours?” Connor whispered into your ear, his teeth digging gently into your lobe as he tugged on it, hearing the muttered swear words that left your lips in response. “Answer me baby… If he wanted to… Would you let your Lieutenant fuck you?”

“No.” You gasped softly at the coldness of his fingers as they pushed aside your panties, trailing themselves painfully slowly across your soaking slit as Connor made sure not to touch your clit as he wanted to hear you beg for it. “No I wouldn’t.”

“And why’s that?” Connor asked in intrigue as he always thought you had a little school girl crush on Casey before you met him. He pulled his hand from your panties and flipped you round, once again pinning your hands firmly above your head. The first thing he noticed about you was the lust that had blown wide in your pupils, your breathing heavy as you all but panted which only had him straining that much more against his pants.

“Because…” You breathed out, clenching your legs to try and feel some friction against the raving heat beneath them. “…you’re the only one I want to fuck me… The only one whose cock I want to feel inside me.”

“Hm, good answer.” Connor hummed in satisfaction, pressing his lips hard against you as you all but devoured each other. His hold on your hands faltered, allowing them to fall to your sides before you moved to unbuckled his belt, the only thing he allowed you to do before he took your hands in his, stilling your motions. “Not so fast… I think you deserve a little punishment beforehand, don’t you?”

“Punishment? For what?” You asked, almost finding yourself angry again as you thought you’d made it clear to him that you’d never dream of cheating on him with Casey. That was, until you saw the way he smirked, his eyes darkening as he imagined all the ways he could have you squirming beneath him and that’s when you knew you were done for.

“For being so goddamn hot that every guy who meets you wants to fuck you.” And with that, the words that had you smiling like crazy, Connor lifted you off your feet and threw you down onto the bed, towering over you as his hands roamed across your skin, feeling the hotness of it mix with that of his cold hands.

He gripped the cups of your bra, pulling it down to allow your breasts to spill over the edge, his mouth cupping one of them instantly whilst his hand went to the other, kneading it softly as he flicked and pinched at the hardened bud between his fingers, making you hum softly as your threaded your fingers through his hair.

You were already a soaking mess by the time he moved lower, his fingers hooking around the waistband of both your pants and your panties, which he pulled off you in one quick motion before he got to his knees, spreading you open to see the glistening sight that was your pussy.

“Look at you.” Connor teased, pacing soft kisses up your inner thigh, his stubble scratching you lightly as his arm slid across your stomach, holding you down to stop you from arching your back too high. “Absolutely dripping… And all for me.”

“Only you, baby.” You gasped, followed by a low moan as he slipped one finger inside you, which was enough for you to almost lose your train of thought. “Fuck… Only for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Connor chuckled, in a way that told you that you were more than likely about to have to beg for your life. “Now be a good girl and moan for me while I fuck my fingers into your pretty little pussy.”

You did what you were told as he slid a second finger into you, knuckle deep before he pulled back, thrusting them into you once again and keeping a steady rhythm. The noises they made were not at all quiet as you knew how wet you were, how absolutely soaking you got when he took control like this, but then again, neither were you.

Your moans echoed off the walls, probably reaching the neighbours which you’d normally be embarrassed about but right now you didn’t care. You were simply in heaven as he continued to finger fuck you, curling them slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. It had barely been a minute before you already found yourself clenching tightly around his fingers, about to come harder than you’d ever done before.

That was, until Connor pulled them out, making you whine at the loss of contact and look down at him, just in time to see him suck the glisten of you off his fingers.

“Oh, did you think I was gonna let you give in so quickly?” He asked, moaning softly at the taste of you on his fingers as he licked them once again. “Baby, I’m not gonna let you come no matter how much you want it.”

The second the words left his lips he’d attached them to your pussy, sucking gently on your clit before his tongue worked its way downwards. Eating you out like you were his first meal in days which had you whimpering as you all but levitated off the bed, gripping the sheets for dear life as you’d never felt anything quite like how his tongue felt inside you.

Five times Connor brought you to the edge of your climax, allowing you to see briefly over the edge before he pulled you away, his mouth leaving you as you let out a stifled sob. You couldn’t take another second let alone another minute of him denying you what you wanted. You were desperate. So fucking desperate for him to make you come that you could feel your eyes stinging with tears, your lower abdomen tightening more than ever before as it slowly reached the brink of being painful.

“Connor please.” Your breath hitched as you spoke, your body shaking from the edging he was so thoroughly enjoying. “Please… I can’t… I can’t take it anymore, please let me come.”

“You want to come baby?” Connor said softly, rubbing a slow circle against your swollen clit, making you whimper quietly to yourself as your hips bucked involuntarily. “You want me to make you come?”

“Yes… Yes, please make me come.” You begged, propping yourself up on your shaky elbows to look at him. “Please… I want you to make me come so fucking bad, baby. Want you to make me come so hard I scream your name.”

“Tell me you’re mine.” Connor said seriously, unbuttoning his pants as he readied himself to make good on his promise. “Tell me you’re mine and I’ll fuck you so good you’ll scream my name loud enough that the whole city hears it.”

“I’m yours.” You said instantly, biting down hard on your lip as he pushed down his pants, freeing his already leaking and thick cock from beneath them. “I’m all yours. My heart. My pussy… All of it belongs to you.”

“Good girl.” Connor cooed, tracing his tip down your slick folds, pushing it in just a little as he smeared your arousal down the length of it. “Now get on your hands and knees.”

You moved quicker than before, barely settling yourself down on your knees before you felt him come up behind you, his erection brushing against your inner thigh as he settled himself nicely behind you, the bed the perfect height to allow him to stand which you knew meant he wasn’t going to be gentle at all. And right now, right now you wanted it rough.

“Give it to me, baby… Let me feel that thick cock in my tight little pussy.” You murmured, knowing that you talking dirty always riled him up, which it did as the second the words left your lips he’d pushed into, bottoming out in one quick motion and he was anything but slow as he began to pound mercilessly into you.

Your back arched, your chin pushed deep into the mattress as you bit down onto it, stifling your cries as your body trembled in pure pleasure, the slight pain of Connor’s roughness and lack of allowing you to adjust to his size only adding to the heat that pumped through your veins.

“Fuck… Yes baby, give it to me. Fucking give it to me. Yes.” You cried out, pushing your ass out further before you felt a sharp sting across it, Connor having slapped it before digging his fingers deep into the flesh of it, sure to leave bruises come the next morning.

“Taking it so good, baby.” Connor groaned, his hips moving furiously as he continued to slam into you, the sound of how wet your pussy was like music to his ears, as were your moans which he’d never heard quite as pleasure driven before. He could feel you clamping down around him, about to burst any second now as he gave you exactly what you wanted. “That’s it, sweetheart, come for me.”

As though on command, you clamped down fully, pure ecstasy flowing fast throughout your veins as you came harder than ever before, making good on your word of screaming his name as you couldn’t help but allow it to cross your lips. You couldn’t begin to describe this moment, your head was fuzzy, your eyes were clouded over in white as you felt your very spirit leave your body, and for a second you thought you’d ascended into heaven, that was until your name slipping from Connor’s lips as he came inside you pulled you back to reality.

“Fuck, Connor…” You exhaled, no air left in your burning lungs as he’d fucked it all out of you. “I think… I think… God, I don’t even know what to think.” Your body fell flat against the bed, your thighs sticking together from a mixture of yourself and Connor, whose release was slowly dripping out of you.

Connor chuckled, flipping your now limp body over so you lay on your back, making it easy for him to see your flushed face as he towered over you, gently brushing his thumb across your lips before he spoke.

“You know what I think… I think… You did so well in letting everyone in Chicago know that you're mine… And mine only.”

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#chicago med #chicago med one shot #chicago med x reader #chicago med fanfiction #chicago med oneshot #chicago med connor rhodes #connor rhodes oneshot #connor rhodes #connor rhodes smut #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes one shot #connor rhodes fanfiction #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes fanfic #connor rhodes x you #x reader #reader insert #winchesterszvonecek #one chicago #one chicago x reader

[wing-ed-thing]

Marriage Pact (Erwin x Reader) Part III

Synopsis: To the surprise of the cadets, Commander Erwin is married to more than just his work. Their curiosity brings up fond memories of your and Erwin’s early days in the scouts.

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: Language, No Reader Pronouns, Fluff, Marriage Pacts, 104th Cadet Corps Shenanigans, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Original Characters, Alcohol

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Notes: This has been done and edited for... far too long.

Affairs were irritatingly mundane during the days that followed the Military Ball. And after all the show-boating and money that exchanged hands, the Scouting Regiment certainly had something to prove.

“Shadis is putting you on expedition command?” You blinked in pleased surprise. Erwin stood in front of your desk, thumbs looped in a pair of straps that bisected his torso. He hummed in confirmation. You offered him a light applause with the soft tappings of your fingers. “Congratulations, that’s promising.”

“We can hope so.” Erwin shrugged with near indifference, brows jumping for only a moment as he considered the notion. He heaved a steady breath of air, likely already envisioning the increased workload.

“Hope so?” you laughed, not quite paying attention to his rigid body language. “You’re being set up to take command for sure—”

“Are you able to take my squads for a bit?” Erwin interjected. You blinked at him, taken aback by the interruption. He took a slight pause before squaring his shoulder back. “Sorry for cutting you off.” He tugged at his collar.

“No, not at all.” You shook your head, forcing yourself to maintain the cordial smile on your lips. You offered a gesture of your hand. “Continue.” 

Erwin met your eye, matching your closed-lip smile of pleasantry, but only briefly. He dove right into business. 

“I’ll be needed Tuesdays and Fridays. I was hoping you could take my squads. I asked Hange, but they’ve got their hands full with R&D,” he explained with a curt nod. You stared up at him, almost lost. Taking on additional bodies for two days a week was already a tall order, but taking on five extra squads might serve to be impossible. 

“Okay,” you started, thinking before committing fully. If Hange couldn’t take them, you were likely the only one who could. Your eyes darted back at Erwin, who was waiting for your answer expectantly. Your lungs inflated with nervous air before you spoke again. “There’s no way they can be split—?”

“I don’t trust anyone else with my squads.” Erwin’s answer was swift. He stared at you with serious eyes and a severe expression. Erwin’s hands traveled from his leather straps as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The sigh he heaved made you frown.

“There’s five of them. That’s— what?— over a hundred additional bodies?”

“Ninety-nine, actually.”

‘Okay, ninety-nine added to my eighty—”

“And I would owe you one.” Erwin leaned over the front of your desk. With one hand on the solid wooden surface, he imposed himself above you with his other hand back to clutching one of his ODM straps. The tips of his bangs swept gracefully over his forehead. Erwin glanced toward the door and then back at you.

You opened your mouth to retort, but your attempt at protest broke down into a resigned huff. You shook your head, raising your hands in defeat.

“Yeah, I can take your squads on Tuesdays and Fridays.” Your voice sounded more tentative than you’d have liked. Erwin quirked a brow. The crease on his forehead was subtle. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I can take them,” you said definitively, shooting him a glare of warning. “Don’t push your luck.” 

Erwin’s brows bounced again as he surrendered a step backward. You cleared a few things off your desk in search of paper to write yourself a note. 

“If you’re not busy, we could discuss details now. I could make us some tea.” You avoided his eye, a large part of you just wanting to use taking on his squads as an excuse to finally get some alone time with him to talk the whole marriage pact situation over.

“Shadis actually has me preoccupied. I’m actually due to meet with Edmonds any moment now.” He glanced at the clock on the wall before continuing to inch away. “I’ll send a memo by the end of the day.” He was already off by the time you looked up from your note-taking. 

“A memo?” You nearly spat, standing as he began to walk out the door. You shouted after him. “I’m doing you a favor, Erwin! You owe me!”

 He waved over his shoulder as he briskly walked out into the hall, not even bothering to look back.

“I know I do!”

***

There was a reason there were four section commanders. 

Between your four squads and Erwin’s five squads, regular drills were crowded at best. The larger venue you scrambled to book for the following month was just large enough to accommodate your combined teams for standard practice. And for forest training, you were required to wear your ODM gear the entire day to get from one side of the grounds to another. You must have gone through five canisters in one session of supervising alone. 

And so it went for the next few weeks. Almost every other day, you’d find yourself trudging up to the temporary training grounds far out of the way to meet over double the amount of soldiers you were used to. Erwin’s squads were about as obedient and competent as you could expect— Miche Zacharius alone took a hefty amount off your plate— but no amount of capability could take away from the fact that you were training half the branch two days out of the week. If it wasn’t for how well-coordinated your squad captains were, you might not have been able to pull off Erwin’s favor. 

You stood at the edge of the forest with eyes toward the treetops on a particular Friday at the end of the month. The sun was already setting as you deliberated whether you wanted to let your total of nine squads leave for the day— the main deciding factor being your air tanks. If it were earlier, you might have switched your canisters, but after your last few rounds through the treetops, you decided you were satisfied with the work your teams had done. You watched them whip around among the branches, waiting until things felt right for you to call it quits. 

The trotting of a horse sounded behind you. Just as you turned, Section Commander Fletcher dismounted. 

“Are you getting paid for all this overtime?” he laughed, jogging his horse forward to meet you where you stood. You heaved a deep sigh, hands on your hips just out of the way of your massive sheathes. 

“Can’t say I am,” you announced in the way otherwise polite words come out in fatigue. Fletcher pulled up beside you, gaze glued on the treetops above. A full squad of 28 members whirled by, maneuvering expertly through the branches and artificial targets.

“Wow,” he mused, a hand shielding his eyes from the beams of the setting sun, “You’ve got a well-oiled machine out here.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’d think I’d have it figured out, considering I’ve had them about a month now.”

“This isn’t figured out?” Fletcher raised a brow, jabbing his thumb up toward the flurry of scouts. You let out an amused scoff, head tilting up to bask your face in what was left of the light. 

“Flying by the seat of my pants,” you jested, but your words were true. Fletcher let out an amused puff before mirroring your posture. 

“Hell, if this is you making things up as you go, I’d love to see what you got when you do have a plan.” He shook his head in silent admiration. His eyes flickered to you, irises huddling in the left corners of his eyes as he studied you through his peripheral. “No wonder Erwin went to you first.” 

“He came to me because Hange was busy,” you laughed, “Honestly, Hange might have had better luck anyway. They’re more used to handling all the moving parts than I am.”

“Well, you’re doing great.” Fletcher nodded affirmatively. “Although, I can’t say I’m not pressed that I was the only one Erwin didn’t ask to take his squads…” His lips formed the slightest pout. “I could have sworn that Hange said he went to you first. Either way, we could have split them and done drills together.”

“Two of us and three-quarters of the branch? No, thank you.” Another laugh erupted from your throat, and you turned to fully face him for the first time that evening. You gave him a once over, noting the state of his uniform. “Um, Fletcher? You know your backplate is supposed to go on your back, right?” 

You reached over to loop your finger through the leather strap connected to his backplate and ran over his shoulder. His attention shot straight to where you tugged before Fletcher’s face drooped in reluctant acknowledgment. He held his hands up in defeat.

“Yeah, I know. But I got everything on before I realized, and I didn’t want to take it off and start over.” You withdrew, subconsciously looping your hands around your own tattered ODM straps. Fletcher continued with some more frantic waving of his hands. “Look, don’t tell Shadis. I’ve already faced disciplinary action for one too many mishaps with the uniform. He says if it wasn’t for my record on the field, I would have already been demoted.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who always has it perfect,” you tried to assure him. With the condition your straps were in, you were probably in uniform violation far more often than Fletcher was. Although, being as high ranking as you were, it probably wasn’t the greatest example to set for your squads. At least with you, most people couldn’t usually see that your uniform wasn’t up to policy in the first place without a full inspection. Fletcher was less lucky. 

You heard your name a distance behind you, and by the time you turned again, Erwin had already ridden up the grassy hill on his white stallion. You perked up in surprise. Erwin spared a quick glance toward your company.

“Ah, and Section Commander Fletcher,” he remarked, not particularly content at the other section commander’s presence. Erwin smoothly slid off his saddle, tying up the reins to a nearby post with a flick of his wrist.

“Erwin! It’s good to see you finally resurface!” Fletcher waved. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Erwin retorted curtly, gazing briefly at the trees. The branches rustled with movement. “Don’t you have affairs of your own to prep for, Fletcher?” 

“All about business as usual, I see,” Fletcher chuckled. His horse bumped him with its muzzle, and Fletcher gave the opposite side of the animal’s face a few pats. “It was quite the day today. My soldiers deserve the early break.”

“So soon before the next expedition.” Erwin’s eyes narrowed slightly, although his expression remained nearly undetectable. Despite his subtle dismay, Erwin’s demeanor remained straight and proper. “How intrepid.” 

“If we work them too hard before the big day, they’ll be too exhausted to make responsible decisions.” Fletcher regarded Erwin nonchalantly, speaking lazily with his hands and a complacent twinge to his lips. Erwin blinked at him, scowling.

“Well, it’s good that we ran into each other,” he said, “You’re needed at headquarters. Something about one of your squads duking it out in the mess hall again.” 

Fletcher’s face just about went white, and he needed little encouragement to mount his horse and start racing back toward Trost. He shouted something over his shoulder as he rode away. You only caught bits and pieces of promises to resume talking to you soon.

You watched him retreat down the hill, lost in fatigue from the day.

“Fletcher is an idiot.” Erwin’s voice cut through your daze. The harsh bite of his words hit you like an electric shock, causing you to perk up in acute astonishment. 

Erwin didn’t meet your eye as he watched the speck that was Fletcher and his horse in the distance. He just stood there, posture straight and face stoic as he looked off toward the Walls. You opened your mouth to comment, but he soon brushed past you, leaving his scent in his wake. You stalled for only a moment before following him.

“What?” You wondered if you had heard him right. Erwin hardly spoke disparagingly of others— particularly not his peers— let alone so blatantly.

“For all that natural instinct Shadis sure puts a lot of stake in, Fletcher is an absentminded fool who won’t make it to see winter.” The inflection of his voice rose at the end of his sentence as if he were talking about a nice breeze. He shrugged, an uncomfortable and rigid indifference about him. Erwin focused on the equipment of his gear, standing just ahead of you at the edge of the forest. 

“That’s mean.” You frowned. Erwin tightened one of his thigh straps.

“You know it as well as I do; no need to be coy.” He began rolling up his sleeves. You checked the time, wondering if Fletcher wasn’t the only superior officer to let his subordinates out for the day. “It’s better if he kept his destruction to his own squads. I don’t trust him around anything of mine.”

Perhaps you were devoting too much mental energy to your agreement, focusing too much on what exactly your relationship with Erwin was because his words left his lips and paralyzed you where you stood. You stopped mid-step, head jerking slightly in surprise.

“Anything of yours?” The words left your lips before you could even think.

You quickly snapped your mouth closed, meeting Erwin’s gaze with your own slightly widened eyes. You stood frozen, almost afraid to move.  Erwin’s forehead creased, his mouth contorting downward with acute confusion. He cocked his head toward you, trying to decipher what the miscommunication was. 

“I don’t trust him around my squads?” 

“Oh,” you breathed, avoiding eye contact. You shook your head as if to physically dismiss the thoughts racing around your head. You covered your face with your hands, hiding the embarrassment and mortification that contorted your features. “I thought you said something else.” You shook your head again. 

“What did you think I said?”

You continued to avoid meeting Erwin’s gaze even as you stepped up next to where he stood. You waved your hand in the air, not doing a great job of looking nonchalant. You stared straight ahead into the forest in an attempt to look normal. 

“Don’t worry about it. I take it you want to round them up?” You gestured toward the trees. Your canisters were on the lower side regarding fuel, but you could afford to take one more trip around the training grounds. Luckily, Erwin didn’t pry.

“I’d like to catch the tail-end of their progress,” Erwin hummed. “And to see how severely I’m about to be out of a job.” You shot up into the trees together, landing on adjacent branches.

“Yeah, when you get promoted to commander, I’ll be working overtime taking on your teams while we train your replacement.” You were already on another branch, an impressive distance from where you started. Erwin wasn’t too far behind as you each signaled for your squads to regroup. 

“You seem to be under the impression that Shadis will be relinquishing his title soon.” You could barely hear Erwin’s baritone voice over the wind in your ears. You whipped through the treetops together, expertly avoiding the soldiers flying through the air from the other direction. 

“I thought we talked about playing modest?” you teased, swinging just ahead of him.

You landed next to each other, having reached the far end of the circuit. Your team captains were already leading your nine squads back the way you came to regroup and dismiss for the day. There was a notable shift in the air, no doubt caused by Erwin’s commanding presence. Everyone was eager to show off their coordination with the two of you present and watching.

“You’re talking as if you aren’t also very well qualified.”

“Erwin,” you grumbled with a roll of your eyes. You slapped him on the bicep with the back of your hand, “Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying…” He whistled, playfully mocking the smile you tried to fight off. He didn’t even bother to hide his snickering. Erwin never looked old by any means, but even so, when he laughed, he seemed to become five years younger. 

“Alright,” you sighed, the corners of your mouth still slightly upturned, “Let’s wrap this up. But I hope you know you’re taking charge on this one because I’m sick of looking at your squads—” You snickered, absentmindedly turning toward Erwin. 

He stood with the thick wood of a branch beneath his boots, and his hand wrapped around an anchored cable which kept him steady. Erwin simply watched you. You dared to think he held something sentimental in his gaze, just like the night you made your pact. You turned to look over your shoulder, which garnered a chuckle from Erwin. 

“Hey—” You were quick to snap in jest but weren’t allowed to say much else.

—“Would you like to grab a drink tonight?” Erwin mused.

You almost lost your balance right then and there. You instinctively moved to grip your own anchored cables.

“Yeah, sure,” you answered quickly, perhaps too quickly, “What time?”

“Let’s meet outside the gates at, uh, seven.” Erwin punctuated his decision with a decisive nod. His anchors reeled back in with a snap before he cast them out again into the forest. He didn’t miss another beat, already gearing up to set out through the branches again. You heard yourself agree before you both set off, ready to rein in the troops for the day.

***

You barely had time to stop home before it was time to meet Erwin, but you’d be damned if you were going to show up to your date in your uniform and the grime from the day on your skin. 

To a lack of surprise, Erwin showed up early. He leaned against the brick pillar that held the left-side gate outside the Trost headquarters, seeming to have also changed clothes. Erwin retired his uniform straps and trousers for a pair of beige slacks. A grey leather jacket draped over his elbow, the dark color contrasting his white button-up. When he saw you, he perked up, pushing off from the pillar to meet you. 

“I hope you’re okay with a walk,” he announced, his projected voice bouncing off the cobblestone street as he gestured in a vague direction with his thumb. 

“Sounds good to me!” you answered, jogging up to meet him directly in front of the closed metal gates. You set off down the road together, chatting about random things from the day. 

You didn’t see Erwin very often outside of work— although, given the nature of your professions, you still continued to see each other for obscene amounts of time between meetings, expeditions, and trainings. Even in contexts where you’ve slept within the same vicinity of each other, you were in uniform and on duty more often than not. 

As you walked, you couldn’t help but consider how different he looked without his uniform— like something was missing. You wondered if you looked the same, although you didn’t have time to do much special preparation of your appearance between work and your meeting time. Your hair was still in an ODM-safe style. 

You didn’t consider that this would become the norm when you were married. However, a growing part of you was gradually becoming more convinced that Erwin wasn’t actually serious about the agreement at all. Quite frankly, he hadn’t brought it up once, and you were sick of how often your pact had been on your mind. The extra thoughts only served to ruin the perfectly decent friendship you had with your coworker. 

Things were never like this with Erwin before, and surely, a soldier as high ranking as you had better things to worry about; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I do appreciate your help this past month,” Erwin said, somewhere between your passage between walls Rose and Sina. 

“It wasn’t too bad,” you admitted, not quite able to accept his thanks, “Your team leads are amazing. I couldn’t have done it without them.” Erwin’s brows rose in pleasant acknowledgment.

“That’s great to hear.” He nodded as you turned onto a familiar street. 

The pub sat on the corner, and Erwin moved ahead of you to grab the door. Only then did you realize that the place Erwin took you to was Mulligan’s.

—“You said you liked the ale here.” He smiled. He was definitely talking before you tuned back into reality, and you already missed the first part of what he said. 

You carried on with a simple hum and pleasant smile, drifting into the pub with Erwin, who led you to the bar. The far wall was covered in military memorabilia. A military police cloak and a set of ODM straps were displayed in the center, surrounded by hand-drawn portraits of service members from all three branches and newspaper clippings of various achievements. A set of wooden stairs sat on the far left of the wall, leading up to a loft area with seating. Erwin ordered ales for the two of you. 

“We don’t get to do this too often, do we?” Erwin draped his jacket over the back of his stool. “I think the last time we even saw each other out of uniform, it was—”

—“Walkers’ retirement party,” you said in unison, smiling at the memory. Your mouth remained slightly agape as you struggled to calculate how long ago that was.

“That was— what?— twoish years ago?”

“Three.”

“You’re kidding.” Your cheek molded into your palm as you rested your elbow against the bartop. You squinted slightly as you glanced up at the ceiling. “I remember Baker’s promotion was two years ago, and I thought Walker left a week after or something.” Your ales appeared in front of you. The rim of your glass brushed your bottom lip as you spoke. “Because that was the year Baker had to separate those two rookies who got tied together during training.” 

Erwin shook his head, swallowing his sip of ale.

“Walker retired three years ago, but he got so bored he tried to get his old job back about a year after Baker was promoted to his old position.” He motioned decisively with his hand as if painting an abstract, invisible timeline in the air. Your lips formed a circular shape as the memories clicked. 

“Right.”

“Not that the minutia matters,” Erwin quickly clarified. He waved again in the air before taking his ale to his lips, meeting your eye from above the rim. “Three years seems like too long of a time to me.” 

You stared into the foam on the top of your drink, watching as the white bubbles formed a perimeter along the section where you had been taking your sips. You averted your gaze as you spoke.

“Would that be considered normal for colleagues?” you asked with a raise of your brows, playing with the handle of your glass. Erwin studied you for the briefest moment in your peripheral before shifting in his seat with a shrug.

“I find the length rather excessive,” he admitted, expertly avoiding your actual question as he slung an ankle over his opposite knee. He sat somewhat straight with an arm on the back of his stool, and the other mirroring yours leaned against the bar. “It’s nice we could meet at such short notice. Talking about work all the time is hardly conducive to our dynamic, don’t you agree?”

“Excessively formal as always,” you sighed. You almost thought you saw him let out a single puff of amusement before he dove back into his ale. You saw your chance and took it. “But I’m glad you brought that up, because I think it’s time we talked about—”

“If a little bullying was all I needed to do to get you to visit, I would have done it sooner!” The chatter in the pub was cut by the booming voice. All heads turned toward the loft as an unnatural silence overtook the space.

Marie appeared at the top of the steps leading down from the loft, a tray of empty steins and glasses balanced on one hand. Her apron only served to emphasize the size of her enlarged stomach. Marie waddled down the steps, a few servers and patrons rushing to her aid. All talk within the pub slowly returned as most people turned back toward their drinks.

“Shit— Marie! You’re gonna fall!” One customer hurried to her side, taking backward steps down the wooden planks to give Marie his arm for stability. A server quickly scooped the tray of glassware away, the towers of empty beverages clinking and wobbling on top of each other. 

“Oh, thank you, Steven. I could have gotten that.” Marie blinked, not watching the rest of her journey down the stairs.

“A business owner shouldn’t be bussing tables, let alone pregnant! Please go home!” a server urged. Marie only offered him a light smile, not acknowledging any of the pleadings that clamored around her as she made directly for you and Erwin. 

“You didn’t bully me into anything, Marie,” Erwin sighed playfully. He stood out of his seat, but not before offering you a swift dip of his lip to you in apology. Erwin heaved himself up, ready to face Marie’s complaints, and you followed suit. Marie wasted no time in pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Oh, sure, sure. Nothing to do with that military schmooze-fest last month. I haven’t seen you here in years, Erwin! Shame on you!” You barely had time to think before Marie let Erwin go and latched on to you next. She slotted herself a bit to the side to properly hug you. Her demeanor seemed to melt as she grasped you firmly by the shoulders. 

“Wonderful to see you again,” she said, smiling warmly. 

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you reciprocated. 

Marie pulled away, hands crossed over her chest as she took in the both of you.

“Drinks on me tonight!” She accented her exclamation with a single nod. 

“Marie, please—” Erwin attempted to reason with her, but Marie wouldn’t let him get a word in before she was already talking to the bartender.

“Thomas! Please refill these ales— Oh! And put in for an order of pretzels!” Marie met your eye and offered you a wink before disappearing into the throng of patrons. Even then, Erwin wasn’t allowed any time to complain as the door to the pub swung open wide enough to hit the adjacent wall outside. 

“Fuck! Be careful, Hange!”

“Yoo-hoo! Is that two workaholic scouts I see emerged from their caves to party with us?” Hange threw their hands up in the air, completely blocking the doorway. A few prominent regiment members piled in behind them, uttering various grumblings about moving out of the way. Miche’s face popped up over the crowd.

“Yo,” he nodded toward Erwin. The volley of scouts flooded the pub, spreading across empty tables and chairs. Hange, as well as members of yours and Erwin’s squads, began to approach the bar. 

It was the last weekend before your next expedition. 

How could you forget about something like that?

***

Jean didn’t expect such a mild reaction out of you, especially after they had trashed what he could only assume was one of your most prized possessions. The moment the door opened, visions of extra brutal drills and penalties beyond his imagination flashed before his eyes, his dreams shattering like the broken picture frame on the floor. Jean could only imagine what a cross-branch punishment entailed.

Eren was quick to try to explain, quickly lurching forward with your first name spilling from his lips, thankfully with your rank. A few other members of his cadet class tried desperately to explain their presence in your office, but you remained expressionless.

You stood wordlessly in the doorway, and as the room erupted into defensive panic, your eyes were only focused on the shattered picture frame. Jean saw you in his frozen silence, following your line of sight to the floor. He knelt down to salvage the mess. 

“Don’t touch it; I don’t want you cutting yourself.” Your voice was neutral and level. You crossed the office in seconds, plopping your miscellaneous files on your desk before plucking a broom and dustpan from a tall cabinet.

“Let me get that!” Jean and Eren exclaimed in unison.

The cleaning process was slow. The only noise that dared to vocalize in the room was the soft brushing of broom bristles on wood. Your scouting paraphernalia sat in its usual closed wardrobe just above a small office trashcan now filled with broken glass and the broken frame. One of the seams where the wood had been glued at the corner had fractured, forming a jagged line. 

You stood as still and expressionless as you did when you first entered while Jean finally articulated their presence in your office after hours. He considered your neutral demeanor the worst part of getting caught. There was no yelling or a scrunched-up look of disgust, just active and silent listening. You only nodded, seeming to think to yourself without giving away any hints about the nature of your thoughts. 

“We wanted to know if you and Commander Smith were married,” Jean admitted plainly. There wasn’t any way around the truth. He studied your blank gaze. You were listening but didn’t have commentary to give quite yet. He bowed his head sheepishly. “I know that talking about things like that is really inappropriate, and coming into your office is even worse. We’ll replace your frame and accept any punishment you deem fit.”

“Speak for yourself…” Eren muttered.

“Now’s really not the time for—!”

When you spoke, “There’s ten of you?” was all you said. 

Jean assumed you were counting heads for when you reported to Commander Pixis— or worse, Erwin. But it wasn’t until Jean sat on your worn, leather-covered couch with a cup of tea in his hands that he started to wonder.

You didn’t answer Jean’s question until the last cup of tea had been poured. 

You sat with it, looking into your reflection in the steaming beverage as you perched on the front of your desk. The picture— which looked rather flimsy without its frame— sat to your left. You crossed your ankles, the tips of your shoes brushing the floor as you leaned back on one palm. You took a sip of your tea.

“Yeah—” You shrugged. —“Erwin and I are married.”

The room collectively choked. 

“See—?!” Jean could only get out one word before he broke into a coughing fit, the words rushing to his lips before he could even think about the liquid in his mouth. He covered his face with his arm and sputtered into the fabric covering his elbow. A violent dribble of liquid splashed over his chin. You offered him a cloth from your tea cart. “See? I told you! I told all of you—!”

“God, Jean, shut up!” Connie’s speech was muffled by the tea cracker passing through his lips. Eren smacked the back of Jean’s head before stepping to the other side of Mikasa. Jean’s coughing fit began again. 

“I think that's so cute!” Christa’s exclaim cut through the brewing feud on the other side of the rug. She leaned forward, squishing her face into her palms with a childlike glimmer of excitement in her blue irises. Ymir rolled her eyes, much more interested in the bowl of snacks making the rounds. “How did you guys meet?” You laughed almost giddily.

“We were section commanders together before I transferred to the Garrison!” 

The smile on your lips gave away the fond thoughts and memories that flashed across your mind. The group of new scouts huddled together, the eleven of you forming a circle sprawled out across your office. They sipped their tea, eager to indulge in a self-imposed late-night story session. “And now we’ve been married for almost ten years.” Reiner held his hand up shallowly in the air, his fingers slightly curled.

“I got a question for ya,” he began. You nodded like a teacher fielding a student’s question. “Has he always been so…” Reiner trailed off, leaning deep into his seat on the couch that faced Jean’s. He stretched his arm out so that it rested on the tops of the adjacent cushions. “Uptight?” 

“Reiner!” Bertholdt scolded under his breath, nudging him for emphasis. Bertholdt sank slightly lower in his seat, expertly balancing his teacup and saucer. 

You hardly took offense as anticipated, laughing out loud instead.

“I suppose Erwin’s always been more strait-laced, even back then!” you mused, glancing up at the ceiling in thought. You swung your feet, drumming your fingers at the front edge of your desk before returning your attention to the group. “I will say, though, it’s a good trait to have in a commander, especially for the scouts— not that I have to tell any of you that. He humored me a few times when it came to, you know, your usual antics, but we all— Erwin included— knew he was being groomed for that commander position. He liked to stick to the— the rules if that makes sense.”

You nodded before sipping your tea. You thought that answered the question, but unbeknownst to you, you only served to further pique everyone’s curiosity. However, none of them were able to ask any of their burning questions before Christa’s voice silenced the entire room.

“So, when did you fall in love?” she asked, and her words bounced off the wooden fixtures in the office. It seemed as though all attention turned to her as she sat giddy, a knee to her chest as she anticipated your answer. You took a moment, apparently too long of a moment, as tense silence filled the room. 

You tried to hide your shock, voice stalling in your throat as you struggled to find a good answer. Mikasa stared at you with a sharp keenness in her eyes.

“You aren’t in love, are you?” she said as more of a definitive statement than a question. You were quick to answer.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You shook your head, still searching for what to say. “I—” All words stalled in your mouth when you looked up at the gathering of scouts. All eyes were on you, waiting silently. Staring. You sighed. “We had a marriage pact. And that’s not to say we don’t care about each other.” That last part tumbled from your lips like an avalanche.

“A marriage pact?” Reiner grumbled, but once again, you didn’t even have time to answer.

“It’s when two people promise to marry each other if they reach a certain point in their lives and are still single,” Ymir explained before you could. She looked at you as if allowing you to tack on any details she left out. You could only nod.

“That’s not very romantic,” Reiner bluntly spat. A few low hums of agreement dotted the room. You didn’t register how his words rattled something in your chest. 

“So, what, did you both turn a certain age and just… what? Get married?” Eren leaned on the back of the seat where Armin sat. His elbows sunk into the worn leather. “How does that work?”

“Did you have an actual wedding, or was it, like, courthouse?” Connie asked with his mouth full of a tea biscuit.

You sat on your desk with your tea in your hands. Your grip hadn’t left the saucer and cup handle in the moments you sat on the hot seat of their gaze. Your agreement with Erwin wasn’t something you necessarily kept secret. Still, the pointed questioning stirred something within you you couldn’t identify. The former cadets remained huddled together, clearly intently interested, with no signs of leaving anytime soon.

You sighed, refilling your tea.

“There was a couple under my command who had a marriage pact. I was telling Erwin about it one night before an expedition,” you began, and the entire room sat in interest as the sun set on the other side of your tall office windows.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: It's so odd writing "Christa" instead of Historia. I also wonder how many of my deep cuts land whenever I write for this section of the timeline. Sometimes I wonder if people think Marie is an original character. I mean, given how little she's in AOT she might as well be.

On another note, I really wanted to wrap things up in this part. But I think there was too much set-up for the last expedition/proposal for it to fit in one chapter. Once I hit 5k I knew my fate was sealed...

I don't know if I should write the wedding because I imagine it to be small and intimate. It might make this fic 5 parts. I only really wanted to write 3. I know engagement usually drops the more parts there are. People don’t seem to like long stories, but I dunno what do you think?

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Stupid, Stupid, Emotionally Unavailable Erwin Smith (Levi x Reader x Erwin)

Notes: I’m happy to add people to the tag list, but requesting to be added without interacting with any part of this series outside of your tag request will result in a swift block

@goddessinsweats @lionhearted-soldier @answer-the-sirens @piercedddriver @scarletrosesposts @thewrittenromance

#erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #aot x reader #erwin #erwin smith #snk x reader #x reader #x you #reader insert #attack on titan x reader #aot fanfiction #erwin fanfic #erwin smith fanfic #erwin x you #erwin x y/n

[blooberrytea]

Connections Pt. 2

Pt: 1 2 3 4

~ Summary: Set in post-revolution Detroit, You've been assigned to the recently developed Android Crimes Division; and it's already off to a rough start.

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: more slow burn so sorry

~

“And you’re really sure this is gonna work?”

You crossed your arms as Connor looked up at you, tilting his head to the side, his hair falling over his eyes. It was such a small thing, but the way those strands framed his face, and the look in his eyes at you questioning his expertise; it was enough to make you blush. 

“Yes, Detective.” He drawled, sarcasm lacing his tone, “My program indicates an eighty-five percent success rate.” 

His voice sounded playfully smug as his LED spun from yellow to blue. You let out an exasperated sigh and turned on your heel. The room was totally fluorescent, equipped with white walls and bright lights. There were several Cyberlife crates and one of the walls was full of drawers. A few monitors also cluttered up the space. There was enough equipment in this room to create an android if you really wanted. 

Moments after you’d arrived at the crime scene, the android had been transported to Cyberlife Tower. You’d been directed to a room on the twenty-fourth floor where his body lay motionless on a dimly glowing surgical table. According to Connor, he’d been here plenty of times and knew exactly where you were going. 

“Which parts do you need?-” You started, cutting yourself off as you pulled one of the drawers open. A pair of legs lay nestled in black styrofoam, neatly packaged, and clearly never touched. Next to them was a pair of forearms, equipped with hands. 

“Connor, I feel like I’m in a morgue right now.” 

The android let out a soft laugh and moments later you felt his body press against your back, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You swallowed hard and warmth flooded your cheeks. 

With him pressed against you like this, you could feel the beat of his thirium pump, the firmness of his torso, the sturdiness off his fingers. 

Connor pulled open a drawer above your reach, sliding it completely out of its place.

“Watch your head.” He murmured, “Everything we need is in this one.” 

You ducked as he lifted the drawer over you, quickly turning to follow after him. 

You pressed cool hands against your face, hoping you could persuade the flush into taking its leave. 

“So uhm- How many times have you done this?” You cleared your throat, praying your voice came out steady instead of weak. 

“I did it a handful of times during the revolution.Taking parts from androids, swapping them between each other, trying to find any clue that could lead me to Jericho.” 

His voice was soft, full of remorse as he spoke.

You placed your hand on his arm and offered a comforting smile.

“That wasn’t you, Connor. They made you do that. You were just following orders.” 

“It doesn’t quite wash my hands of all that thirium though, does it?”

You frowned, choosing to stay quiet as you watched him work.

He placed his hands on the androids stomach, the synthetic skin peeling back as he opened the androids chassis. 

“The wiring definitely looks a little fried. Like Nines said, his reactivation will only last for a minute, if that.” 

Connor replaced a few biocomponents before connecting two wires together. 

The android suddenly gasped, his eyes shooting open. 

“Where-- Where am I?” The android's voice came out scrambled, almost like static.

“We don’t have much time,” Connor started, “I need you to relax. I’m going to interface with you.”

Before the android could protest, Connor had already grasped his forearm. You watched as both of their eyes fluttered, the damaged android convulsing on the table. 

“Fucking hell-” You shuddered out, averting your gaze from the two. 

The android abruptly stilled, his eyes going dim, and synthetic skin sliding back into place. 

Connor dropped his arm, taking a step back and pushing his fingers through brown locs. 

“Connor? You okay?”

Connor paused, his LED spinning red as he made eye contact with you. He gave a short nod. 

“I just- I can feel the death, when I’m connected like that..” He said, LED still blaring red.

You hesitantly took his trembling hands in yours, “Wanna try a breathing exercise?”

“A breathing exercise?” He repeated, his fingers instinctively intertwining with yours, “I don’t have lungs, detective-”

You laughed softly, “I know, I know. But maybe it’ll help? Cool your systems off in a way.”

Connor gave you an uneasy look. 

“Just humor me, okay?”

The android sighed, giving a small nod and closing his eyes, “Okay.”

You took in a deep breath, Connor inhaling along with you and almost too easily matching his faux breathing pattern to yours. You stayed like this for a few minutes, up until the android’s LED returned to its cool blue. 

“Okay. Now what did you see in the interface?”

Connor cringed, “It was too fried to make anything out. The images were warped and blurry. The only thing I managed was the terror he felt through it all.” 

You let out a frustrated ‘Ugh’, gently dropping your friends hands and turning to face the android on the table.

“There has to be something. Some kind of lead or something to connect this to– Something we’re missing. The only person who could get away with this without leaving a trace would be another android, right?” 

“Or a very smart human.”

“But if it were a human you’d have found something! Finger prints, fibers, anything.”

Connor furrowed his brows, looking over the other android for a hundredth time. 

“I’ve scanned him several times, detective. If we’d missed something we’d have caught it by now… It’s possible it could be a human acting through an android?” 

You groaned, “Well that’s another theory, I suppose.” 

“We’re overdue for one of those corkboard late nights, anyway.” He teased, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “Hank can make the coffee runs this time.”

In a way, it was sweet to know that Connor still thought of those moments so fondly. You figured he’d have thought of them as insignificant or just work. You tipped your head back, taking in a deep breath and shaking your hands out. 

“Yeah, okay. We tend to do our best work then, huh?”

“Even if we don’t, I still enjoy it.”

You glanced at him, something purple catching your eye in the motion. You paused, turning back to the android on the table. 

“Was that there before?”

Engraved on the android's arm was a symbol. One you’d seen before just the other night.

“Hm… It would appear his skin had been hacked to hide the symbol, but now that all his systems are completely shut down…” Connor trailed off, tilting his head as he looked at you. 

“Fuck. Okay, I have to show you something.”

#dbh #detroit become human #connor x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh rk800 #dbh connor #connor dbh #fanfic #dbh fanfic #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #bloo connections