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theoldsports · 5 months

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Mistake.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.2k words

SMUT 18+ ONLY | murder, manipulation, dubcon, mutually assured destruction, some bondage, gun violence. everything, really. danger!

The floor of Coriolanus and [Y/N]’s bedroom used to be hardwood. She would hear him on his way in when he worked late at the Citadel. The creaking floorboards typically snapped her out of sleep. Recently, Coriolanus decided on carpeting the room, full well knowing that he often woke up [Y/N] with his returns. If she stayed asleep, she asked less questions. The carpet was rich and purple. Tastefully purple, like a mauve. Coriolanus did not tolerate tacky like most ‘Capitol Phonies’ as [Y/N] called them when he would get agitated with couture, fashion and consumer trends.

When Coriolanus entered the room tonight, he was not concerned with waking his lover like usual. He was furious and he wanted attention. Coriolanus threw the door open with a bang. He came in like a shot. [Y/N] sat bolt up right in bed at the unexpected noise so late at night. She went from asleep to over alert. With practiced ease, she yanked open the bedside table’s white drawer and reached for the handgun Coriolanus had gotten her as an anniversary present. The wife of a young Senator couldn’t afford to take risks.

[Y/N] extended her arm, pointing the gun where her tired eyes spotted movement and undid the safety. She blinked once. Then twice. It was clear that it was Coriolanus, not a murderer. Not a murderer that would do her harm, anyway.

“Fuck!” Coriolanus said, raising his hands in surprise. “Darling, it’s me. Drop it!”

She would have known his footsteps if he hadn’t put in carpet.

“Coryo, good god. Don’t do that!” [Y/N] screamed. Instantly, she snapped the safety back on and dropped the gun back in the drawer. “I could have shot you! What time is it?”

“I—I don’t know! Late!” Coriolanus shouted and shrugged his jacket off. “Fuck!” [Y/N] watched his burgundy coat smack into the wall as he tossed it in frustration. Coriolanus didn’t usually get visibly angry. Instead, he got cold. There was door slamming sometimes to end an argument, maybe dirty possessive sex, but normally, he became calculating vile to be around instead of petulantly rage-filled.

Today must have been a bad day.

He almost got shot to top it off.

“I’m sorry,” [Y/N] said like she was attempting to defuse a bomb. She had only had to speak to him like that once or twice in her years of knowing him. Normally, Coriolanus found that tone condescending. “Coryo, come here.”

Coriolanus made no mind of her words. He continued to pull off his clothes a layer at a time clumsily. He pulled at his hair, he groaned sounds of anguish barely below a holler, he even threw one of his beautifully polished shoes across the room. Real, adult male rage. The kind you stayed away from.

“Coriolanus Snow, you’re going to hurt yourself!” [Y/N] shouted. “You’re gonna… hurt me, or break something. What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] said cautiously while she climbed out of bed in her nearly transparent red nightie.

Coriolanus breathed heavily. He was trying to sooth his anger. He knew this behavior, this blackout rage, was unbecoming. His eyes focused on [Y/N]’s, and then [Y/N]’s throat, then [Y/N]’s dress, and what was visible under [Y/N]’s dress. His breathing slowed a bit and he pushed his loose curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You still with me?” [Y/N] asked, stepping into where he stood. “Coryo, look at me,” [Y/N] commanded. She reached out with a hand as if Coriolanus was a wild animal that might bite her and slowly placed it on the side of his cheek. Gently, she guided him to look down at her. He stared down at her almost expressionlessly. [Y/N] reached up with her free hand to tucked Coriolanus’s long hair out of his face. “What happened? The truth, preferably.”

“Where… Where’d you get that nightgown?” Coriolanus deflected.

“Bought it last week.”

“It’s very striking on you. You aren’t cold in that thing?”

[Y/N] shook her head and dropped her hand from Coriolanus’ face. She thought her window for some sort of talk about why he had behaved like that had latched closed. “No.” She sighed. [Y/N] spent another moment examining Coriolanus with her eyes to make sure that he wasn’t hurt or completely falling to pieces standing before her in merely his crisp black pinstriped trousers and belt. Once she felt her once over was sufficient, she turned to walk back to the bed to lay down.

“I… I lied to someone when I should have told them the truth,” Coriolanus started as [Y/N] climbed back under the pristine white covers on their bed. “It was a miscalculation and I suspect it’s going to take… work to… eradicate the rest of problem entirely.”

He was incapable of saying ‘I made a mistake and my actions have consequences’ like a normal person. All the same, relinquishing that information cost him a lot emotionally. He didn’t share burdens. Coriolanus didn’t share anything.

“This was another Senator?”

“It involves another Senator, yes,” he said. “It’s inconvenient.”

“Fix it,” she said. There was no more advice to be offered on the subject without argument and she knew that Coriolanus would fix it, by whatever means necessary. [Y/N] patted the bed beside her again. “Come to bed.”

Coriolanus climbed into bed stiffly and laid beside [Y/N]. He settled for laying in an uncomfortable, temporary position because he did not expect to fall asleep in his pressed slacks. She wrapped an arm around him and yanked him on top of her, forcing his head to rest on her chest. Coriolanus liked it when [Y/N] let him use her like a pillow. [Y/N]’s heart went so fast when he was near like that. Coriolanus wondered if it was because she was afraid of him. He smiled.

“Did you get this nightgown for me?” Coriolanus asked. He traced the sheer fabric around one of [Y/N] nipples and watched the bud become stiffer with every rotation. He did that to her, not some no-talent, inexperienced Senator who probably couldn’t keep his own dick hard.

[Y/N] scoffed with her bottom lip captured between her straight teeth. “Who else?” She said plainly.

“You got all dressed up in this and I didn’t even get home on time, huh?” He said, sounding almost disappointed. Coriolanus’ finger slid under the strap of the dress and snapped it against her skin.

“There’s always tomorrow. It’s not like I don’t live with you,” [Y/N] chanced sliding her fingers into his hair. Coriolanus often hated when she touched his overly manicured hair, but [Y/N] knew he found it soothing in a moment of private vulnerability. She knew he liked the attention. [Y/N] tangled her fingers in his white blonde hair, combing out the product he had put in it that morning to hold it in place. Coriolanus let her. “You’re so tense. Relax.” [Y/N] said.

“Can’t. Go back to sleep, Darling. I might go for a run, think.”

“…You could discuss your miscalculation.”

Coriolanus was silent. That was a no without saying no. [Y/N] tugged his hair carefully in frustration. “Please stay here with me. If you go out, I’ll be all nerves til you’re properly back with me,” She said. “Stay. I’m awake now… Blow off some steam. The adrenaline of pointing a gun at my husband’s going to keep me awake for a while too.”

“I never should have bought you that,” Coriolanus said firmly, but maintained a smirk. “If I stayed with you all day, you would have no reason for needing the gun. You wouldn’t ever have to wear clothes either. Well, what you’re wearing now is hardly clothes to begin with.”

“I’m sorry. About the gun, not the nightgown,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus stole kisses across parts of her exposed and covered chest. Eventually his mouth came to rest over her clothed left nipple, with his teeth giving it a gentle tug. “Coryo…” [Y/N] whimpered.

“You want me to relax, here’s me,” Coriolanus leaned up and kissed [Y/N]’s lips. “Relaxing.” He smirked.

[Y/N] genuinely never did know if Coriolanus was out-of-his-mind obsessed with her, or if he told her what she wanted to hear because that kind of talk made Coriolanus feel better about himself in a roundabout way. Either way, she got something out of it, so complaining at this stage felt unimportant.

Sustaining two deluded minds in a relationship meant both parties had to consistently 1) lie, 2) obsess over minutia, 3) fuck.

See, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t just fucking either. The pair could not love. Something had happened to each of them that made real romantic or intimate compatibility impossible. Their intentions for the other weren’t selfless, but they mutually let other believe they were.

They were perfect together.

They had unified strength, a need for control and that beloved little thing that made them work: obsession; fundamentally. To hear one of them talk manically about the other, was to see the face of God. To each of them, the other was the only person who had ever kept them from getting bored, so they made it work. It was the endless chase that kept them going. That, and a constant need to outdo the other. Daily, they engaged in a delicate pantomime of intimacy and all their world was the stage.

“Did you hurt someone, honey?” [Y/N] moaned as Coriolanus kissed her, bucking her hips up. “You only act like this when you’ve hurt someone. Y-you, oh fuck, you know I don’t care.” She said.

“Cut it out.” He snapped.

“Who.”

“How many times before have I told you not to ask?” Coriolanus said, pulling his lips away from her chest and instead leaned back to bury two fingers inside her wetness to affirm his point. He had already noticed she hadn’t been wearing panties under the translucent nightie, so it was easy.

[Y/N] inhaled sharply at the abrupt stretching sensation and shut her eyes. “I wasn’t asking, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus stretched her further, eliciting an explicit moan from [Y/N]. She clawed at the fabric of the only stitches he had left: his trousers.

Through gritted teeth, Coriolanus choked out “Festus Creed.”

“Festus?” [Y/N] said as she sat up on her elbows. They had known him since they were children. Coriolanus didn’t stop fucking her brutally with his hand. “Coryo… You didn’t.”

“He said something he shouldn’t have and he took his coffee too sweet to notice before it was too late. The only worry is if someone saw. Eyes everywhere. It was too public.” Coriolanus grunted. He felt himself getting hard from watching his wife fuck herself on his long fingers whilst he confessed to killing a childhood companion.

[Y/N] knew it was in poor taste to feel so good from hearing something so awful. She did not care because who was going to judge her in the privacy of her own home? She let out her most wanton moan yet when Coriolanus pressed in a third finger. He knew had an advantage in the conversation considering their current position. Coriolanus knew exactly what she wanted and that he was not going to get her to cum just from the penetration of his fingers. Effortlessly, he slid his thumb over her clit and rubbed it quickly. “W-why…” [Y/N] tried her best to sound coherent.

“He wanted something that wasn’t his.” Coriolanus muttered, leaning his mouth into [Y/N]’s bare neck.

This could have meant Festus had coveted her, or that he had coveted the presidency. Whatever it was, Coriolanus didn’t like his foods to touch and took care of the problem. [Y/N] let herself believe that out of the possible options, it was her that had gotten in the way of the two men’s relationship. It made her grin an unfortunate grin.

“Coriolanus, you sh-shouldn’t have d-done that,” [Y/N] said. Her thighs were practically shaking. “That was a mistake.” She tried. It was a mistake. Logically, she knew that. [Y/N]’s quivering hands unbuckled his belt. Carefully, she slid the fine black leather through the metal fixings and soft fabric loops. It stayed clutched in her hand.

“What was a mistake?” Coriolanus asked coyly. “This?” His hand slid out of her, making [Y/N] yelp at its absence.

At least [Y/N] was able to think clearer without his hand in her folds. [Y/N] clutched the belt in her hands tighter. “Fuck you.” [Y/N] said. She sat up further causing Coriolanus to lean back further. Her temper flared. She hated how much Coriolanus liked it when she got angry. Of course none of her feelings were really her own with out Coriolanus’ desire and interests. Her temper escalated until she could feel a full throbbing in her left armpit and side. [Y/N] also hated how aroused she still felt. Her friend was dead, after all. She sent a silent prayer to Festus, wherever he ended up.

[Y/N] knew this desire she had was going to be a challenge, but she wanted to punish Coriolanus carnally. Everything was too easy for him as it was.

When Coriolanus sat up against the fluffy pillows and the metal headboard, [Y/N] wasted no time climbing into his lap. She stared seriously into his blue eyes for a moment and leaned into his ear. “I’m extremely disappointed in you.” She said.

Nervousness coursed through her veins. Coriolanus was going to be very upset with her. She grasped Coriolanus’ left wrist in the same hand that held his belt. In one fluid motion, [Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ other wrist and clutched them over his head. She pressed his wrists together and linked them with the belt. Before she locked the belt on itself, she pushed his beautiful pale hands against the metallic headboard she was so familiar with chained to herself and cinched the belt closed fast enough to rash up Coriolanus’ delicate wrists.

Coriolanus looked at her in stunned shock. He tried to pull against the belt once.

Twice.

Three times.

It jerked the metal bedframe with a crack.

“What the fuck is this?” Coriolanus said through gritted teeth.

“Punishment. You… I… I said I was extremely disappointed in you. You created a significant amount of unnecessary stress because… Because what? A man I’ve known since I was twelve wanted to share your toys? Is that it?”

The crease between Coriolanus’ eyebrows deepened and his eyes. [Y/N] popped the button on Coriolanus’ pants.

“Now, I’m gonna get some pleasure out of you if it kills me. For my sake, not yours.” [Y/N] said. She shimmied Coriolanus’ pants and boxers down to his knees. Coriolanus wasn’t making this movement easy for her with his wriggling.

“[Y/N], get me out of this. Now!” Coriolanus commanded. At the noise, she grabbed his cock and circled her thumb around its head a few times. He was a leaking mess; he liked this more than he implied. Coriolanus let out a whimper, whether from pleasure or being emasculated. Either would do.

“No.” [Y/N] said softly. She released his cock and climbed properly back onto his lap and slowly sank all the way down on his painfully hard cock. Coriolanus was tall and broad so it was never a surprise to [Y/N] that he was so big. She herself moaned at the familiar stretch of taking him in all the way. [Y/N] rolled her hips to compensate as she settled. [Y/N] chose not think about the consequences for what she was doing. She thought about Coriolanus instead. She glanced down at Coriolanus. Of course he looked frustratingly gorgeous. He always did. His hair looked extremely tousled and his eyes were truculent. His jaw clenched in a grimace of some passionate emotion.

[Y/N] had never seen Coriolanus below her like this. She liked it.

Coriolanus thrusted his hips up, but [Y/N] sat still, not dignifying his need with a response. “No, this is an apology. This is for me now, not you.”

“[Y/N], please—“

Begging so soon?

[Y/N] fucked herself on his cock sharply. Repeatedly, she lifted herself high and slammed herself back down his length. She had no idea sex felt so good in this position.

“Coryo, I want an apology for whatever this is. You should be ashamed of what you’ve done. Are you?”

Silence. He looked away from her.

“I asked you a question.” [Y/N] whispered when she leaned in to bite Coriolanus’ earlobe.

“No.” He said. [Y/N] leaned back and struck him with her open palm. She smiled to herself as she did so, thinking of the night of their engagement party. How striking his pale face always looked with the contrast of a stiff red mark on it.

“[Y/N]!” Coriolanus shouted at the stinging sensation, pulling at his restraints. Coriolanus hated not feeling in control. He wanted to hold [Y/N], to squeeze her, to devour her alive.

[Y/N] leaned to clutch his bound forearms, bouncing up and down sickeningly fast. “You’re not ashamed? Guilty? You think this is deserved, this cruelty?” He didn’t have to answer for [Y/N] to know he didn’t feel ashamed. Coriolanus couldn’t feel shame quite like that, only self pity. He let out another moan at her words. [Y/N] clawed her nails down his biceps on a journey to his abdomen. “Coryo, apologize to me.” She purred.

“I…” Coriolanus started to apologize, but [Y/N] began sucking brutal hickeys on his neck first, then collarbones. He could barely string a sentence together at the sensation. By the time he had four blossoming bruises on the marble column of his throat, he was writhing beneath [Y/N]. He was getting frustrated. Every time he tried to buck his hips naturally (or desperately) into hers, she refused to move or acknowledge until he stopped.

“Fine! I’m sorry!” He spat, barely conscious of his words.

“For what?”

“F-Festus.” He said quietly.

“What was that, honey?” She teased, twisting one of his nipples.

“Please don’t make me talk about another man when I’m fucking you…” Coriolanus whimpered. “Undo the belt, Darling, we can—“

“Too late. What are you sorry for?” She said, rolling her hips into his. “Tell me you’re sorry or there’s no chance I let you finish.”

“Festus!”

“Louder!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry about Festus. It was a mistake. PLEASE! Let me fucking cum!”

He wasn’t sorry at all. While he came into his wife, all Coriolanus could think about was how awfully good it felt to kill someone if it meant his wife would be on him like this.

—

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow

sorry if tags didn’t work! i tried!

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow imagine #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #coriolanus snow smut

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todomochi-uwu · 6 months

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Who (1/?) -J.Y & S.M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

"Mingi, please. I think we should talk; I don't feel good and…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm tired."

You are always tired these days…

"Yunho, love do you want to go out and check out that new cafeteria? I heard they have…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm busy."

You are always busy these days...

Things haven't been the same in a while, always in a rush, always in a mood. You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you. It was a type of routine you had grown accustomed to, and even if it was killing you inside, the idea of being without them was way worse than the pain of their neglect. Cold, endless nights laying in a bed that was way too big for you; tasteless dinner plates that would end up in the trashcan or at the back of the fridge rotting. A home that was crumbling from its foundations, one that you had so desperately tried to patch up and fix by yourself. But in the end, you just had to face the cruel reality, that they don't care. You were not a priority; your relationship was at the bottom of their list.

That's how you ended up at Chan's apartment, in the middle of the night, with so much as your phone in your pocket and your heart in your hand. He had been your main support the last weeks, anything you wanted, anything you needed, no questions asked. Whenever you woke up crying, whenever you broke down in the middle of the day, Chan was always there to comfort you. And so, you laid there, in his chest, the aftermath of a movie night in which you had only cried twice, an important milestone.

The constant buzzing in the pocket of your pyjamas was making it quite hard for you to continue sleeping. You knew exactly who dared bother you so late at night, it had been the same callers every single night for the past month.

"Don't answer it." Chan's groggy voice filled your ears. He was right. You declined the call and turned off your phone.

But said-call had already done its job, you couldn't stop thinking about the phone, well the people behind it. Your phone was full of texts and missed calls, eight people behind them, because their friends were loyal like that.

They are so sorry.

Please talk to them.

Yunho is drowning himself in work.

Mingi doesn't even talk to us.

Funny it is. A few weeks ago, it seemed they could live perfectly fine without you; they could go on with their day without even glancing your way. You gave them every single piece of your being just to get crumbles in return. But at the same time, your heart is weak, it can’t help but break every time you read one of their texts, wondering if they miss you that much, if they are sorry, if maybe, just maybe, you should go back.

“Y/n… you are overthinking again.” Bang Chan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I know, I just feel bad, Chan. Maybe I overreacted, maybe if I tried a bit harder to talk to them…” There you were again, trying to justify their actions. Chan gave you the same stern look he had been giving you for weeks, every time you blamed yourself.

He got up, not mentioning the subject anymore. Tired of going on about the same subject, “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order in.”

It would be a lie to say you were not enjoying Chan’s presence. Having someone to talk to, someone to have a meal with, even someone who sits next to you without being on their phone or computer, you miss not feeling alone. And even though you were heartbroken, you felt warm on the inside.

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

While you might be doing somewhat okay, the other parts of your relationship were not. The house was in complete silence, no matter the hour, no matter the day, no one would dare say a word, their mouths too busy sobbing every single time they remembered their sins, taking you for granted, neglecting you, breaking you.

Yunho would keep himself busy at the hospital, the idea of going back to a broken home simply made him nauseous, and even if the lack of food and the stress were killing him, he much rather endure that than face the harsh truth. Mingi wasn’t any better, endless nights spent in the office, acting as if he was reviewing cases, but the reality was that he just wanted a place to cry without anyone noticing him. Even the love between them was running cold. Fight after fight, they spat cruel words and thoughts trying to get all the hurt and anger out of their chests, blaming themselves, blaming each other. How did they not notice things were so wrong? How could they let things get so wrong?

“Oh, don’t act as if I'm the only one who wasn’t here, you slept at the office almost every day. I came home late, but you didn’t even come at all.” Yunho said, venom in his voice and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Mingi scratched his forehead in frustration, he could feel the bile going up his throat. “Forgive me for trying to pay the bills, someone has to pay for the house, the student loans, the fucking food that’s on the table.”

“Fuck off, don’t you dare say I’m not bringing any money. Besides, you know that this is temporary while I finish my residency…”

And there the cycle began once again, a screaming match of arguments that never went anywhere, masking the true cause of their pain. Tears ran down their faces, their voices broke down more and more with each word they let out, Yunho's body trembled so much it hurt, while Mingi’s chest felt as if it was about to explode.

“I’m not okay, Yunho.” It was the first time any of them said it out loud, his voice was much raspier and heavier than the usual one.

“I'm not either, Mingi.” He whispered, fearing he would break down even more if he admitted it much louder.

“She left three weeks ago.”

Yunho could only nod.

“She’s not coming back, is she?”

“I don’t know, Mingi.”

#yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho x reader #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi angst #jeong yunho #song mingi #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez

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justwonder113 · 14 days

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Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count-

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️

454 notes · View notes

jjklvr9 · 3 months

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⇢ " 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 "

18+ minors dni !!

pairing: heeseung x older fem!reader (by a year)

genre: smut, slight romance

warnings: slight praising, mentions of blood, fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 5.3k

a/n: my first ever heeseung fic !! i have not been writing in a very long time so i'm kinda rusty and i'm trying a little different style of writing ;_; but! i still hope you all enjoy it <3

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

You often wondered if there was more out there for you. Something that would make your mind and nerves twist in excitement, something that’d make you yearn for more. Something that would never make you think twice about, something that wouldn’t obscure your thoughts with uncertainty and ‘what ifs’.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head, aiming to clear your mind. It's time to focus on getting that pending work done so you can relish in the relief of passing in bed. It was a Friday night after all.

It’s been a year since you graduated from university and the momentary happiness of completing a goal you’ve set flushed away when you began your first new job. The pay wasn’t too bad and it was the only way you’ve been guided to headstart on a career. Head start your life more so. You were beyond glee when you read the acceptance email, calling around your family members and best friends to tell them the good news. Yay! You’re finally earning money and doing something. The excitement didn’t last long, for the first two weeks on the job already took a heavy toll on you. The countless meetings, paperwork, overtime. Not to mention the commute home on the bus was dreadful after a late night. It became a routine you despised, slowly killing you from the insides and sometimes it showed on your face.

Your life beyond the confines of work bore a striking resemblance. The majority of your friends were entangled in their own busy lives and careers, leaving little room for regular meetups. Furthermore, your family resided inconveniently in an entirely different city, making it impractical for you to freely come and go as you pleased. Not that you’d have the energy to do so anyway. On most of your days off, you found yourself indoors, indulging in the solace of leisurely idleness. There was nothing better than being able to sleep without the expectation of an alarm blaring to wake you up too early in the morning for your liking.

But it was also getting dull. You couldn’t deny that life was pretty dull. You were grateful most times, having the security of a job and home was everything that was enough. Though occasionally, you longed for more. More to feel what life and this world could present. Even for the tiniest second, you desired to feel something different.

9:30 pm. Finally, you turn your laptop off for the night and raise your arms to stretch the extremely tautened muscles straining your shoulders. You’ve been working non-stop since your lunch break ended, dinner didn’t even occur to you till small growls churned in your stomach. Packing up your things, you decided to head down to the convenience store in the building before leaving to catch your bus ride home. Maybe some onigiri or a bento box would suffice.

Treading into the well-lit store, the cashier welcomes you with a smile along with the rush of the cold draft from the air conditioner hitting your skin at once. That woke you up a bit, forgetting how cold it would be in actuality outside of this building. It was winter after all. Your eyes survey through the food section, set on that last tuna mayo-flavoured rice ball before extending your hand to pick it off the shelves; when another hand seemed to beat you to it. This interaction caused you to jolt a little on your feet, waking you up fully now as your eyes dilated slightly at the man standing beside you. His hand was still next to yours by the shelves, only his successfully holding onto the onigiri.

“Oh, sorry. Did you want this?” he asks softly, or rather he seemed, apologetic with his eyes staring back into yours. “It’s fine...I’ll just..” you trail on, glancing back at the array of rice balls before aimlessly picking another. “take this one.” The man blinks instantly in surprise, you can tell, but what about you weren’t sure. “Y/n?” with your name slipping out of his voice, your eyes widened once again and this time you were surprised. What?

“You are..?” Not wanting to confirm straight off the bat just in case it was a stalker danger situation or something, you crease your eyebrows in question. “It’s me, Heeseung. From the basketball team.” Heeseung…Heeseung? Oh. Right. Heeseung. Once his facial features registered in your fatigued brain, recollections of university life played in your mind like a movie trailer. Were you truly this depleted that you didn't recognize this earlier? Unbelievable.

You knew him briefly through your group of friends who were also part of the basketball team, glimpsing him in the socials and games you attended, merely ever acknowledging each other with “heys” and greeting smiles. Heeseung was a year younger than you but it was hard to tell with his domineering height and build. Despite his rapport with your closest friends, you two never seemed to escalate the acquaintanceship. Yet, there was always a subtle exchange of prolonged glances between you two. You often notice his gaze and you'd find yourself looking back at him. His captivating charm and attractive features were no secret to anyone, and you were well aware of the magnetic allure he possessed around people. Well, those glances held no deeper meaning; they were just moments, fleeting and devoid of any significance, or so you believed.

“Ah…Heeseung. I didn’t realise it was you with your hair all black now. Sorry, my brain is kind of fried..” you convey with a slight smile, mixed with comfort and apology. It had only been a full year and a half since you last saw him, at one of the parties the basketball team threw before a big game. It was apparent he changed; grew a few more inches and his shoulders looked larger too. Black strands covered some of his eyes now, which differed the most drastically from the blonde he used to have. He looked really good even sporting in just a hoodie and sweatpants, you couldn’t refute that. Heeseung lets out a chuckle, taking the onigiri from your hand and strides his way to the cashier without another word. “Oh?” was all you could say, flickering your eyes in surprise as you followed him. “You don’t have to! I should be the one buying.” He chuckles once again; never realised his voice sounded temperate either. As he thanks the cashier and hands you the plastic bag filled with the tuna-flavoured rice ball you wanted initially and an extra orange juice, a smile curves up his lips. You thanked him quietly and showed a smile back, both of you now walking out of the store into the cold air of the night.

The darkness encompassed your surroundings, yet the glow of the streetlights and moon shine compensated for the lack of clear sight. “Hey, you didn’t have to..you know. But thank you again Heeseung. I should pay you back though..” The man looks at you with the same smile still plastered on his face, his hand pushing back his hair slightly. “Instead of paying me back, why don’t we grab a bite sometime?” Did he just ask me out? No, he’s just being friendly.

You weren’t certain if you were more exhausted than you thought, but you sensed a slight leap in your heart. You weren't exactly unnerved by the inquiry, but it certainly deviated from the norm for you, especially now that you're fully engrossed in the corporate grind. Work accumulated on too much of your life and mind, as well as on people around you that nobody ever had any time to do such things. Sure, you’ve been asked out for lunch and coffee, sometimes even dinner with a colleague but this felt different.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you weren’t sure on how to react, nodding your head along with your words. You were shy. Heeseung chortles once again, noting this obvious expression from you. “Tomorrow sound good? Here, give me your number.” He says, passing you his phone. Was he always this straightforward? He did seem the type to be but encountering it first-hand was heating your ears and cheeks. You hope he doesn’t realise this, assuming it was from the cold. Nodding slowly in agreement with his suggestion, you take the phone from his hand and fill in your contact information. For some reason, your phone number seemed scrambled up in your head, causing you to doubt if you're even keying in the right digits. Saving it and handing the phone back to him, you retained your eyes on his. The sound of the bus huffing to a stop nearby broke your gaze, realising it was your ride home for the night. “Okay well I um, I have to catch that.” you tried not to sound awkward, pointing at the bus a few steps away as you took some in that direction slowly. “Ah, alright, I’ll text you!” Heeseung graced you with yet another warm smile, this time radiating even more brightness than before. He watches as you get on the bus and settle on a seat in the back, waving slightly when your eyes look out the window to him. You wave back as the bus drives off, his silhouette gently fading away into the obscurity of the night. It had been quite a memorable evening for you, as the sight of an old familiar face reignited something within you, much like the gradual lustre of a dried-out candle; and indeed, the flames do begin to flicker and glow anew.

As sunlight sifts through the curtains and gently tickles your face, its warmth prompts a soft, contented whirr to escape your lips as you continue to slumber peacefully. If that wasn’t enough to wake you, the buzzing sound of your phone sure did. It was a quiet Saturday morning, or rather, afternoon, considering the clock struck 12 pm. At this hour, the stillness persisted, and you were expecting a respite from incoming messages. Everybody was either too occupied catching up on their sleep and lives, but you’d forgotten there was a new number soon to be added to your contacts. Seizing it from the side table, you open one eye to take a peek at the notification illustrated on the screen before opening both in surprise. Perhaps even excitement, reading the words out loud in your head.

“Good morning Y/N :) Heeseung here.”

A bashful smile began to play on the corners of your lips, and your cheeks blushed once more at the mere thought of the text. The fact that he probably just woken up too to text you ‘Good morning’ at this hour; the fact texting you was the first thing he did when he woke up. You swiftly replied, not forgetting to replicate the smiley face he added to his good morning text. Within a few minutes, your phone buzzed again, leaving you no space to bask in the joy of having received that initial message.

“I hope you rested well :) What are your plans for the day?”

There's that smiley face again. Why did he have to message you like that? Such simple words yet they made your smile grow bigger. You turned your body to the other side, back facing the window now with your legs wrapped around the bolster. It felt like reliving high-school days being a young girl in love, smiling and giggling as you read the exchanged messages between you and your crush. You weren't entirely certain if your feelings for this boy amounted to a crush just yet, but there was an undeniable sense of something growing within you.

Heeseung was sweet, and he was really funny. It’s around 5 pm now, having been texting each other the whole day with a dinner plan for the night, you found yourself giggling once again as you read the joke he made this time. All you managed to do today was eat lunch and take a shower, with half the other time spent typing your fingers away on your phone. Over the course of a few hours, the bond between you two clicked instantly and deepened, ease and comfort settling enough for Heeseung to have flirted a little bit here and there. You did appreciate his gestures, noting his flirtatious manner, which leaned more towards showering you with compliments and engaging in innocent teasing. Glancing at the time once more, you figured it was time to get ready for the dinner he had planned for the both of you.

Gazing at your reflection one final time in the mirror, a smile graces your lips as you adjust your flared-sleeve top and skirt to perfection. The sound of your phone ringing caught you off guard, stumbling a little as you hurriedly put on your jacket and picked it up. “Hey, I’m outside.” Heeseung sounded like he was smiling over the phone, the hint of excitement couldn’t be missed from his tone. An involuntary smile finds its way to your lips, peeking through the window to see him standing outside with his back resting against his car; dressed handsomely in a pair of loose black pants, matching it with a black collared shirt and jacket. God, even in simple clothing or dressed up, Heeseung always looked good. Despite hours of conversation, a flutter of nervousness still lingered within you. Heart beating louder and quicker with every step closer you took to him, the sight of his glinting eyes seemed to relax you.

Breathe. It’s just Heeseung.

“You’re so pretty.” He blurts out as you become clearer in his line of sight; and with the subtle reddening of his cheeks, you discern that he hadn't intended to express it so candidly. He blinks slowly as if he was coming back from a daze, clearing his throat. “Come on, let's go.” the boy says, opening the car door with one hand and the other leading you to get in. What a gentleman.

“Y-you look really good too.” Did you just stutter? Pursing your lips in embarrassment, you tried to save face by giving a small smile. Cute, he thought and as usual he chuckled in response. The ride to the restaurant turned out to be less awkward than anticipated, and as the night unfolded, you discovered yourself becoming more and more comfortable in his company, easing into the evening with each passing moment. Engaging in conversation, you delve into the recounting of shared experiences in university and reminisce about mutual friends, weaving a tapestry of memories and connections. Diving deeper, you navigate through a multitude of topics, slipping past the surface to explore more facets of each other's lives. Amidst soft laughter that punctuates the conversation, you discover that there's an inexhaustible well of things to talk about with each other.

In that fleeting time, everything felt perfect and your heart did the leap once more. Whenever there was a minute of silence between the two of you, Heeseung would look up to you with a smile, reaching his hand out across the table to hold onto yours. You found yourself pondering whether he might be experiencing the same nervousness as you, despite his outwardly composed and confident demeanor. Yet, every now and then, you caught a slight flush creeping up to the tips of his ears, offering a glimpse into his inner thoughts.

Nothing could’ve beat the night you had, if you had to compare it with all the others you spent rotting alone at home in your bed. With everything running smoothly, what could go wrong? It felt like you two grew closer not just emotionally but physically as well, being cosy enough to hold hands as you walk out of the restaurant together now.

“Oh shit, I think I left my phone on the table.” Heeseung says, patting down his jacket and pant pockets a few times, apologising to you as he hurriedly walks back in. You giggle a little at his clumsiness, standing at the side of the restaurant waiting for him to come back. It was getting later in the night now, the cold air tingling down your skin making goosebumps rise. No amount of clothing or jackets was enough for the temperature that drops at night.

Bits of the evening kept replaying in your head and you couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself. It was yet to end until Heeseung sent you home but you were already reminiscing the time you shared. He surprised you in a way; with how effortless it was to talk to him, to share with him the things you’ve always had in mind. He made you feel accommodated and heard; like he really wanted to know you. Like he really wanted you to know him. There undoubtedly was a paradoxical sense that you and he had an enduring connection as if your souls had been intertwined for eternity. What took you so long to finally talk to him? It made you excited, knowing there would potentially be more of him in your life after this.

“You alone?” a slurred-out voice pulls you out of your thoughts, surprising you, even more, was the tall man standing in front of you now. He didn’t look too old, nor did he look too young, but he did look wasted. You were seemingly scared and decided not to pay any mind to the stranger, hoping he’d just walk away and stop bothering you; but to no luck, the man remained there. Pestering and being persistent in having a conversation, he started to annoy you. Annoy more than how scared you felt before. Annoyed about what's taking Heeseung so goddamn long to come back. Before you could muster the words to dismiss the man, he unexpectedly takes hold of your wrist, as if intending to lead you away. “Come, let's go get some drinks!”

“Let her go.” Tone harsh and low, Heeseung was evidently angry at the stranger bothering you. He made sure to be delicate, grabbing your waist to pull you off from the man’s grip and fall back close to his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” The stranger retaliates, puffing up his chest as if he were trying to scare Heeseung off. It would take more than just a little show to get him to back down from guarding you, not even a mere attempt at a punch in the face could. Heeseung scoffs in spite, unfazed at the hit; his own fist curling up to show the man how it was actually done. You gasp softly, being pushed to the sidelines as Heeseung lands his hard knuckles on the man’s face. It clearly did the damage he meant to, seeing how the man was now wincing and scurrying off in pain and curses. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the dispute came to an abrupt end. “Heeseung, are you okay? Y-you’re bleeding!” A small red hue illuminates from the corner of his lips, quickly being licked off by his swift tongue. Though the bleeding continued to slowly seep through. “I’m fine if you’re fine. Let’s get you home.”

You weren’t going to lie, besides the worry you felt for Heeseung getting into a physical altercation, the sight of him all strong and protective like that kind of made your insides turn. In a good way. Never mind that he was younger, the fact he was protective towards you and even took out a hit for you; ten folds attractive in your eyes. The whole ride home remained shrouded in silence, with a subtle tension lingering in the air. His hand held yours firmly as he drove, a silent reassurance amidst the quiet unease. Caressing your hand with his thumb, indicating he was worried for your well-being and this soothed you immensely. Pulling up to your driveway, Heeseung turns to face you, hand still firmly clasped with yours.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He starts, hanging his head down low as if he was ashamed to meet your eyes.

You give his hand a little tug, signalling him to ease up. “It’s okay. You’re the one who got hurt though..” unconsciously (or not, you weren’t even sure yourself anymore) your lips form a small pout, eyes wide focused on Heeseung’s face with slight glances at his bleeding lips. He notices this, and instead of wiping them off, Heeseung slowly leans his face closer to yours till your noses brush against each other and he pauses there. His breath wandered around the air near you, the warmth emanating from his body exuding into your skin and creating a calming closeness. His scent was undeniably pleasing and so close, the black strands of his hair softly poking on your own cheeks. Electrifying, both heartbeats getting louder and louder you could almost feel it claw its way out. You held your breath at that moment, fearful that any wrong move might cause the enchantment to disperse. You’ve never felt like this before, and you’d do whatever it takes to keep feeling it.

Your thighs seemed to rub against each other, warmth burgeoning in your stomach and extending downward. In one brisk second, Heeseung plants his lips onto yours and immediately you reciprocate. It felt tender and pacifying, radiating sincerity and solace.

You could feel the speck of passion pouring into your heart, flowers blooming as the garden grows. It grows, wilder with a pinch of fire now, as Heeseung pushes for more with how deep and harsher his lips felt. Your sanity erupts into a chaotic symphony, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His hands had seemed to find themselves on your bare thighs, gripping them like his life depended on it. Fingers tracing up your skin till it reaches the hem of your skirt, you feel it daringly push the fabric away and climb higher. With the soft touch of his finger on your now-soaked underwear, a soft moan escapes your lips. Your hands encircled his neck, drawing him nearer, the desire for more amplifying with each lingering touch of his piers. Heeseung pushes his tongue in at the brief parting of your lips, licking your cavern wet and continues to weave both of your tongues together, sucking on them ever so roughly.

Breaking the kiss, now messy and sloppy with saliva running down your jaw, you somehow felt your lips still parched. As if it were insufficient, leaving an unquenched longing for his flavour. Tracing your tongue on the edges of his crimson-covered lips, you sniffle a moan at the taste of him. Despite the tempting urge to nibble more onto them, you resisted, mindful of not wanting to inflict any more hurt upon him than he had already endured.

Inclining into him again, his finger resting on your underwear has started to make its movements; nice and slow. He rubs them in a circular motion; wanting to tease you a little bit more. You moan in between kisses, your own hands now gripping onto his shirt to tug and pull him closer, bodies pressing against each other. With that eagerness coming from you, Heeseung holds your underwear to the side with his thumb, pushing two fingers into your folds without breaking the kiss. You gasped at this, unconsciously biting onto his lower lip a little bit too hard than you intended. It created a little bloody mess, but nothing you couldn’t fix.

You tenderly murmur a soft apology, delicately licking away every trace of red left on his lips, seeking to soothe any discomfort.

“You’re such a good girl, cleaning up after your mess. My good girl.” the man coos under his breath, fingers pushing themselves further into you, accelerating the pace as the seconds go by. My good girl. There's that heart leap again. A fleeting moment of uncertainty crosses your mind as you ponder whether he expressed those words in the heat of the moment

or if he meant it, but the way he handled you and kissed you earlier seemed to pivot the pendulum towards it being honest. At least, that's what you wanted to believe.

The muffled sounds escaping you grow more pronounced, escalating in intensity with the hold on his shirt tightening within the grasp of your fingers shortly before they sneak downwards to the growing mound in his pants; gently but firmly grasping its contours. This prompted a hiss from him, his lips pressing even deeper into the yours than before.

You've never encountered such an exhilarating feeling like this, as Heeseung's firm fingers gradually heighten the vigour of euphoria seeping up your senses. "Ah, more..more."

The man smirks in response to your desperate plea, forcefully pushing his fingers deeper before withdrawing them completely. Dismayed at his retraction, your eyes fluttered as you leaned back from him, gasping for the breath you had momentarily lost.

"More what? What is it that you want, baby?"

With a raised eyebrow, he questions, attempting to suppress a grin that you catch in his expression. Ignoring the blush taking shape on the apples of your cheeks, you briefly scrutinise him; his shirt bore a charming dishevelment, his tousled hair adding a touch of allure, making him exceptionally more attractive in sight. The burgeoning bulge beneath your clammy palm subtly twitches, drawing your focus to its presence; making it known to you of his equal excitement at what you're about to say.

"I want you to fuck me, Heeseung. Please."

A groan escapes his lips in response to your words. Without uttering another sound, he withdraws from you and begins lowering his pants and boxers down to his thighs; springing out his ever-so-eager cock free. Damn, what a sight. Heeseung clearly overpacked on your anticipations in this department.

How much more pleasure could he bring you now, considering the sensations his fingers alone prompted? Your insides ignite further at this view, body flushing with heat and throat drying at the mere thought of how he would taste and feel inside of you.

"Like what you see?" With his grin no longer concealed, the man wastes no time in pushing his seat back to create space, pulling you up to straddle his lap, facing him. A loud grunt breaks free past his lips at the pressure, sending a thrill of giddiness through you. Each time his subtle noises reached your ears, it professed that you were doing something right, eliciting a sense of satisfaction for the pleasure you were giving him. "It's not even in yet." you giggle softly, pulling your own underwear down to your thighs. "Someone's impatient." Though he started with the tip of his erection gently brushing against your clitoris, he swiftly proceeded to thrust himself inside your entrance.

"Fuck."

Both of you utter the same word, yet in two distinct tones – yours emerging as a whine of pleasure, and his as a gratifying groan. The folds of your clit envelope him completely, with every quickening thrust he pushes in constricting yourself around his cock.

The strands of his hair, once framing his face, now clung damply to his forehead, hooded eyes barely peering through them yet intensely staring into your orbs. Countless thoughts inundated your mind under the weight of his intimate gaze, leaving you unable to focus on any single one. In this moment, concentration eluded you entirely; even the disbelief that Heeseung was pounding you out in his car right now. This is crazy. I'm crazy.

"Damn, you feel so fucking amazing." his hands wander underneath the back of your skirt, grabbing the flesh of your ass ever so roughly as it bounces up and down his stripped thighs. “Oh fuck me-faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy as the wetness of your gushing clit slides his erection in and out of your tightness with ease. Heeseung accelerates his pace even further, seemingly preempting your unspoken demands. With your hands wrapped around his neck, you pull his chest closer to brush the tip of your hardened nipples beneath your top, and that causes you to moan out his name. The heated boy buries his face in the crook of your neck now, leaving soft brushes of his tongue against your skin and sinks his teeth into them rough enough to leave distinct marks.

"You taste so fucking good too. You're just perfect." You hear his raspy voice mutter under his breath, face still grazing on the skin of your neck as if he was savouring your scent. Feeling the tip of his cock pushing itself exactly into your right spot, you whine out his name repeatedly. The back of your body arches, your toes curling at how hot the air stands; all sorts of emotions strike you at once as your sight goes blurry, mind growing hazier by the second.

"Mmhm..faster Heeseung. Your cock feels so good in me.” this time, you moan even louder, indicating that you were on the brink of reaching the climax of your high very soon. Heeseung took notice of this, quickening his thrusts as he was about to reach the same destination.

"Cum with me, baby. Together."

Hoarse, low groans escaped from his lips with each accelerated movement; the cry of pleasure lamented out both your breaths the moment he blew in one final deepened jab at your spot. A surge of warm fluid cascaded through you, blending seamlessly with your own essence, propelled by the sheer bliss you've just shared. The air was filled with the sounds of heavy, hurried breaths, your lungs working overtime. Your eyes remained fixed on Heeseung's face as you endeavoured to recover composure and catch your breath. Finally, a sense of clarity returned to you as your thoughts regained focus. Did that really just happen? Everything seemed surreal, as if plucked from a dream.

Somehow it appeared like he could read your mind when he laughed at your countenance, his hands now accommodating on your waist to pull himself out of you slowly. As you lean in, finding comfort by resting your head on his chest, the rhythmic thumping of his heart surrounds your ear. The sound was loud and hastened, almost palpably carrying the nervous anticipation in its rapid beat, reminiscent of your very first kiss together. Well, you've done so much more than that now. Freeing his hands from your waist, Heeseung tenderly cradles you with one arm while the other softly strokes your head, radiating care and affection in his touch. He showers your forehead with soft pecks, each one a tender expression of adoration, accompanied by whispered sweet confessions that linger in the air.

"You're really beautiful, I've always thought that."

You both stay like that for a while, reluctant to disrupt the intimacy you shared. However, the reality of your semi-nude state in the confines of a car eventually nudged you both to acknowledge that the moment couldn't last forever. Not right there. The unexpected series of events that unfolded tonight, stemming from your fateful meeting just the day before, had taken a turn you hadn't even considered viable with him. In retrospect, those exchanged glances at the parties and games back then seemed to carry a newfound meaning now. Life wasn't so dull anymore.

Gently disentangling yourself from his embrace, you meet his eyes once again before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Let's go inside." you chuckle, sliding off his lap and back to the passenger seat while fixing your clothes. In sync with your decision, Heeseung follows suit, concurring with the idea of heading back inside your house; as the rest of the night evolved with an abundance of conversation and lots and lots and lots of cuddles.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #heeseung x reader

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glossgojo · 9 months

Text

seven days a week (but not really)

zb1 hyungs (01 and older) x fem!reader smut | ~1k each

jiwoong, zhang hao, hanbin only bc this took me a while (i got carried away with hanbin’s)

with your boyfriend debuting, he’s been busier than usual but he makes time for you as much as he can, or your bf is busy but not busy enough to stop loving you

18+ MDNI CW: AFAB reader, eating out, fingering, p in v sex, no protection (wrap it up!!), riding, creampie, size kink, reader is shorter, choking in hanbin’s, reader wears a skirt in hao and hanbin’s, manhandling, use of pet names (pretty girl, baby, love, etc), slightly mean dom jiwoong, pussy drunk and kinda mean dom hao, rough sex with dom hanbin, oh also everyone got big …..

jiwoong

your boyfriend comes home from one of his schedules late as always. you’d made dinner for him, reheated it twice and eventually gave up on waiting, falling asleep in the living room with some reality show droning in the background. jiwoong finds you in your shared apartment looking peacefully asleep, he would’ve thought the sight was adorable if not for how his shirt swallowed your frame and rode up your plush thighs in your slumber. your pink underwear peaked out from the hem and jiwoong reminded himself that you’d visited him at music bank just yesterday, both of you disappearing right after his performance and coming back disheveled, but he was already getting worked up. he groaned as you stirred and his shirt rode up revealing your tummy, he wanted nothing more than to press kisses to it trailing them up your body until-

no he had to let you rest, he’d eat the dinner you made and then carry you to bed, you deserved some rest after waiting up for him. jiwoong dutifully changed his clothes into his sleepwear, just a pair of boxers, and then ate the food you made. although he’d been quiet you woke up from the sound of the microwave beeping, you grumbled as you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend sitting at the dinner table. lazily, you made your way over to him, jiwoong pushing back in his chair as you wordlessly sat on his lap. you sat sideways, graciously allowing him to reach his plate still. he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you squinted and adjusted to the dim light of the kitchen. “my pretty girl’s cooking is the best.” jiwoong must have been hungrier than he realized because he was finishing the meal in record time. now he could give you all his attention.

“hmm you like it?” you rested your head against the hard plane of his chest, you’d only realized then that he was shirtless.

“so good baby, sorry i made you wait.” he pressed another kiss to your head, breathing in your strawberry shampoo and the smell that was just so deliciously you.

“it’s okay, i don’t mind, makes me feel like a housewife.” you giggled at your own words, not thinking too deeply before saying them but god did they affect jiwoong. images of you with his kids running around all day flashed in front of his eyes and he sighed out in agony, he was really trying to compose himself, but you made it so hard. you felt him harden underneath you, making a small noise of confusion as you sat up in his lap. jiwoong winced at the movement, you weren’t helping in the slightest. you were looking at him, he could feel your pretty wide eyes staring at him expectantly.

“you need rest.” he said sighing as he finally met your gaze, forever a brat you shook your head no and you noticed his lips twitch as if he was holding back a laugh.

“i need you.” jiwoong was patient, his members said he was so mature and calm but not when it came to you, his resolve crumbled just from a look. he pulled you up with him as he got off the chair, your legs going around his hips as he sat down on the sofa where you’d slept.

“show me.” he leaned back, eyeing you up and down on his lap and you flushed at his gaze, you knew what he wanted and your fingers shook as they dipped underneath the edge of his shirt and pulled your underwear down and then off your legs. jiwoong watched your every move like a predator, even if he was letting you use him he was still the one in control and the thought alone made your blood rush south. he crossed his arms, intent on just watching and you pouted as you pulled his hard length free from his boxers. it was red and throbbing in your hand, always so thick and heavy in your hold and you gulped down as you leaned up on your knees to fit him in. the only time he did move was so he could lift his shirt up and see your pretty little cunt swallow his length. you breathed out slowly, your cheeks puffing out and you scrunched your nose in concentration as you slowly lowered down. “relax doll, you’re clenching me so hard i won’t last long.” you nodded as you finally bottomed out, letting yourself adjust and easing up your grip as you did so. you put your hands on jiwoong’s broad shoulders as you began to rise up and down and take his length as well as you could. it never felt as good as when he fucked you, he knew just how to make you come again and again and the feeling of building pleasure was never like how he made you feel. you needed him, not his stupid perfect dick. and jiwoong could tell, from how pouty your lips had gotten and how you didn’t bounce with as much fervor as when he touched you. he was just waiting for you to admit it. “jiwoongggg” you whined out his name, lighting hitting his chest and he huffed out a laugh, gripping your waist before he pounded up into you. you moaned at the feeling, he was relentless bouncing you on his length so hard and fast you were squirming in his hold. your slick combined with his was coating your thighs and no doubt his balls, you whined his name insisting that you were close and he held you close as he angled himself to fuck you deeper, hitting the spot that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. you cried out his name as your orgasm hit you like a truck, your legs shaking as jiwoong continued to use your cunt. he came soon after, the way you clenched around him making him see stars as he filled you up. “my pretty little cunt, always so perfect for me.” he murmured into your shoulder, his hot come leaking out of you making you whine and jiwoong laughed at your actions promising you he’d fill you up properly tomorrow.

zhang hao

his pretty baby, he’d do anything to run to you right now but instead he was stuck in a meeting at the company. just one more hour and he’d be free. the trouble was you had sent a picture of your outfit this morning and all hao could see when he closed his eyes, when his mind drifted or when he didn’t try his damn best to focus on something else was your bare thighs in a mini skirt and knee high socks. the small glimpse of skin was enough to drive him crazy. it had been days since he last saw you in person so it was safe to say he was feeling desperate to be near you. the manager droned on about the upcoming week’s schedule, yes it was important but it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. all he could think about was being between your legs, heat traveling south and he sighed out in relief that he chose to wear an oversized shirt today. hanbin looked over at him suspiciously, noticing his pink ears and glazed eyes, god hao was so obvious sometimes it was a wonder the company hadn’t found out about you.

“alright that’s it.” finally after what felt like years the meeting had come to end and zhang hao didn’t even try to hide how quickly left the room, saying he needed to call his family privately. of course the members knew what really was happening since they’d greeted his parents on the phone just this morning but they withheld their remarks as they watched their hyung hightail it out of the room. he made it to your place pretty quickly, he’d made sure you were close to the company, just like their dorm, when you moved to a new place and of course one pout from your boyfriend was enough to convince you to move closer.

he’d shot you a text before the meeting, and you’d been waiting for him at your place. you usually worked from home and always made time for him when he popped by during his busy days. sure enough when you heard the front door open you quickly closed your work computer and practically skipped to the door to greet your boyfriend. hao grinned at you as he looked you up and down, watching you outstretch your arms to him, your crop top rode up and another sliver of your skin drove him crazy. yeah the real thing was much more maddening then that picture, hao decided. he embraced you pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could reach as you burrowed your face into his shoulder. he loved how much shorter you were than him, loved being able to cover you completely and especially the way he could feel your smile press into his skin.

“missed you so much today baby. you look so pretty,” you whispered a thanks to his skin, flushing as you met his adoring gaze.

“i missed you too hao, always do.” you kissed him, losing yourself in his soft lips and how he deepened the kiss so naturally, drawing your sweet breath as a gasp as he teasingly bit your lip. he pulled back after he was satisfied in getting you riled up, your small hands now scrunching his shirt material. hao watched as a string of saliva connected his lips to yours and it didn’t do anything to help his growing problem. your flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him dizzy.

“baby can i eat you out?” you flinched in shock and looked away from his gaze, feeling hot already and hao’s innocent seeming eyes were burning you up. you nodded shyly and he grinned like he hadn’t just asked something obscene, kissing you again and lifting you over his shoulder in a swift motion. hao laid you down carefully on your bed, making sure you were comfortable on the bed, prop your head up on a couple pillows like you liked so you could watch him, or at least struggle to watch him.

he laid down on the bed the plush of your thighs bulging out the top of your socks, his fingers tracing the skin and his cock throbbing in his pants just from how you shivered at the feather light touch. hao huffed out a laugh as he lightly shifted your skirt up, being pleasantly surprised at the lack of underwear. “sweetheart, were you waiting for me to find you like this?”

“n-no hao, it’s just comfier.” you weren’t very convincing you were sure, you had sent that picture to him with one objective and one only.

“hmm, is that right? even when you’re practically dripping?” he pried your legs open wider, watching the light catch on your slick cunt. you whined, covering your face with your hands and he laughed before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. he continued teasing you like that making you whine as his strong arms kept you spread open for him. your heady scent and sweet noises were making him lose control slowly and so finally he let you win, pressing a prompt kiss to your clit and earning a hiss.

“so sweet,” he hummed mostly to himself as he pressed another kiss to your slick hole and you squirmed. the sweetness leaving him the next second as he pulled by the hips closer to his face, looping one leg over his shoulder as he licked a stripe down to your leaking hole. you followed his silent instruction your shaky leg moving to his shoulder as he dipped his tongue into you and drank you up. you cried out his name, already feeling on the edge of an orgasm. his sharp nose ground against your clit as he pulled more ichor from you and swallowed it down in one go, withdrawing when you felt close and moving to suck your clit as his pretty fingers circled your hole. without warning he dipped two fingers into you and you arched your back as he masterfully found the fleshy spot that made you shake. in seconds you were coming undone from his fingers, your wetness would no doubt stain your white skirt if not for zhang hao making sure to clean you up. you whined as he overstimulated you but he didn’t see like he would stop any time soon, you begged for him to stop.

“h-hao s’too much.”

“taste too good baby, just one more come on.” and with such pretty words hao was able to pull not one but two more orgasms from you. every time he made to clean you up, insisting that you were the sweetest taste in the world.

hanbin

you’d been at the dorm with hanbin, getting there before the other members came back from a schedule without him. he’d done a solo shoot for a magazine and you couldn’t keep your hands or desperate eyes off of him when you saw him all dolled up. now you were whining for him to hurry up with his shower, pawing at the bathroom door like a puppy. hanbin laughed at your desperation, he’d only left you for a few minutes and you were already whining for him. he was no better really but the makeup on his skin had began to bug him and although he liked staining your lips with his, he’d rather not see the reaction on his member’s faces at what you’d been doing. they’d be back pretty soon, he was doing his damn best to keep things tame between you two. when he heard his name leave your lips in a soft whine, his resolve shattered.

“baby the door’s been open, come join me.” you had no intention to join him in showering, instead just opening the door and propping yourself up on the sink counter. you could see his frame through the frosted shower screen, it did nothing to hide how unbelievably perfect your boyfriend was. you could make out his tattoos, his dripping wet hair, his strong arms and muscular build and worse of all his annoyingly pretty cock. despite the warmth rising to your cheeks and quickly moving south, you kept staring.

“i’m started to get creeped out baby.” hanbin ducked his head out, a smirk on his face at how unabashedly you’d been admiring him. you just pouted.

“not my fault you’re so hot.” he laughed before finishing up his shower, turning the water off and reaching for a towel. you made yourself useful, bringing it to him and motioning for him to lean down so you could towel his hair dry. he had to lean down quite a bit due to your height difference and now all he could see was your bare legs under your skirt, god you made it so difficult for him to be a good hyung. you dried his hair gently, not any bit as rough or careless as hanbin usually was and when you felt satisfied you handed him the towel and tilted his chin up, combing your fingers through it and styling it as you pleaded. hanbin watched your lips pout in concentration and your eyelashes bat as you worked under his scrutiny. he found you so adorable and more and more irresistible the closer he got to you. “there, my handsome binnie.” you loved his natural bare face and hair and hanbin’s eyes glazed over at the compliment and the way you said his nickname. standing up tall, he couldn’t help himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist and brought his hands up to cup your face and bring your lips to his. you gasped into the kiss, spreading your soft warm hands on his still damp broad chest, standing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss and hanbin sighed contently into your lips. you were always so sweet and so soft and warm under his touch. anything he gave you you’d react so well he couldn’t help but tease you. you swung your arms around his neck pulling his hard chest against you and hanbin was still very aware that the only thing keeping him decent was a wryly bound towel. despite that he couldn’t help but mold your lips to his, sucking and biting at the plush of them as he grew hard against your stomach. he pulled back, finding the common sense to end this early but your pretty lips followed him pressing kisses to his bare face, neck and collarbones.

“my girl is so needy huh? the boys will be back soon.” he warned, cupping your face and swiping your warmed cheek with his thumb. you nuzzled into his hand playing with the drying hair at his nape.

“please binnie? i’ll be good.” you were begging, eyes glazed over and wide and watery from how badly you wanted him. hanbin would hold you to that promise. he didn’t waste any time then, he wasn’t sure how much there was left anyways and he needed to capitalize on that. lifting you up by the back of your thighs he placed you on the sink counter, making you finally his head level and you gasped as he practically tore your underwear off under your skirt. you grasped his shoulders as he pulled you towards the edge of the counter. he pressed two of his long fingers against your lips, and ever pliant you opened up and sucked them down to the knuckle swirling your tongue over them until hanbin was satisfied. although you’d never admit it you were sure you were already dripping onto the cool counter. he watched you with a smile the type that took over his entire face, if anyone saw him they’d think he was looking at a cute animal and not the love of his life prepping his fingers to finger them. with a pop he pulled his fingers from your plush lips and snuck them under your skirt, brushing your clit before collecting all your slick and diving into you. he was met with resistance, you clenching on his thick fingers as you whined out his name. “shhh baby, don’t want anyone to hear us do you?” you shook your head, opting to burrow your face into his neck instead to silence your moans. “so wet, so tight, so perfect for me, my good girl.” you clenched on him harder, his fingers grazing the fleshy spot inside and making it impossible for you to keep quiet. “look at me baby,” if there was one thing that drove hanbin crazy it was seeing your fucked out expression when he plunged into you. you did your best to maintain eye contact, your pretty face bobbing from the pace he set with his fingers before he pulled them and licked them clean, humming at how sweet you were, eyes still on you and a sob caught in your throat. you were so so close, he was making your blood boil, your legs shake, and your mind cloud over. all you wanted was hanbin, the room smelled like his shampoo and was filled with the sounds of your embarrassingly wet cunt getting fucked by his fingers. you watched him step back, hanging his towel instead in the drying rack as he lined up his hard cock at your entrance, he watched your expression as he collected your arousal, coating his own dick with it and sliding in. hanbin gave you time to adjust, the tip of his stupid long cock bullying your cervix and you breathed out slowly with a nod to get him to move. he was a man on a mission, you both had to come quickly and look fairly normal when you left the bathroom. as if sensing the worst possible time to come home, hanbin heard the front door open and he clasped a hand over your mouth as he pulled out and plunged back in. you whined against his hand, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your boyfriend filled you up.

“stay quiet.” he whispered into you ear and caged your neck with the hand that had been on your mouth. you bucked with his thrusts, the sheer force he was fucking you with making you knock things down as you got shoved up the surface. he hissed at the sound, it wasn’t like it was pin drop silence in the bathroom anyways, the sound of your wet cunt swallowing him and the slap of his balls against your ass filled the room. the apartment was too quiet, he turned the sink on behind you with his free hand, the sound of rushing water disguising the obscene clapping of skin against wet skin. he felt close, you were still clenching around him, his hand on your neck applying pressure as he felt you leak down onto the counter. when he finally plunged into you, coming inside he choked you to keep you quiet as he flicked your clit and made you come along with him. you squirmed in his hold, clenching and milking him for everything he had, feeling dizzy from the pressure on your neck and the mind-numbing orgasm he brought you to. hanbin pulled out slowly, looking down and seeing his come slip out of you onto the counter and he pouted at the sight, shoving it back in you and putting your underwear on swiftly so it would stay there. he couldn’t have his pretty baby have his come spilling down their thighs, it was bad enough you looked ruined. “binnie-“

“hanbin hyung you home?” you heard gunwook yell out from the living room, the sound of the tv being on made him breathe out in relief. at least with the members distracted he had some chance of sneaking you out.

“yeah just showering up!” he yelled back, tucking your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him, standing on shaky legs. you closed your eyes from his touch, it felt so soft and gentle on your skin compared to moments prior when he used like a fuck toy, he was so hot and cold. you loved him more for it.

“you think you can walk?”

#zb1 x reader #zerobase1 #zerobaseone #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 smut #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 hanbin #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #kim jiwoong x reader #kim jiwoong smut #sung hanbin smut #zhang hao smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Licence to Thrill || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You give Charles the ride of his life when he’s running late to an important event. Warnings: 18+ only, illegal driving, sexual innuendos, fluff WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || Based on this request

“No, no, no, shit.” Charles’ curses woke you up and you rubbed your bleary eyes as he tossed the blankets back, cold air rushing over your skin. You immediately missed the warmth of his body where he had been spooning you all night and grabbed your phone to see the time.

“Fuck!” Charles growled as his little toe caught the corner of the bedpost, again, and you leapt up to get dressed too. “We are so late, mon amour.”

He had been looking forward to the charity football game all week and the prospect of missing the kick off made him clumsy in his rush. While you pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt he struggled to get one leg into his team’s black football shorts, falling twice as he lost his balance.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you curled an arm around his waist to steady him. “I shouldn’t have kept you up so late.”

He grabbed a shirt before sparing a moment to press his lips to your forehead. “Don’t be, I enjoyed myself very much.”

“Oh, I know, and I’m pretty sure my neighbours know it too,” you teased as you took your shirt from his hands and tossed him the correct shirt with his name and driver number on the back. “Come on, get that sexy ass moving.”

He laughed as you squeezed his butt when he bent down to tie his shoes. “Hands off the goods, honey, I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, handsome,” you shot back as he made for the stairs and you locked the house behind you.

“Shit,” Charles groaned as he hit his head on the steering wheel. “I am stupid.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, leaning over to see the dashboard. “You forgot to put petrol in again, didn’t you?”

“I was in a rush to get here last night,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ll call Arthur to come get us.”

“I can take us.” You opened your handbag and found your keys as well as the remote for the garage door.

“Wait, you drive?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed as you climbed out of the Pista.

He quickly hopped out his side to follow. “I didn’t even know you had a licence. Why am I only just learning this now?”

“You never asked,” you said with a shrug, “and you always offer to pick me up.”

“Because I thought you didn’t drive.”

You giggled as you hit the remote and the door lifted up. “What did you think was in the garage?”

“Storage? Chérie,” he sighed as he followed you down the driveway that passed by the front door that he had a key for and he pointed to it. “I’ve never come in your backdoor, how should I know?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a smirk and he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, just so you know, the garage is where I park my car.” You waved a hand to the opened door and Charles whistled as he saw the gleaming black hood catch the morning sun. He automatically started walking to the drivers side and you tutted at him. “Don’t even think about it, love. That’s my baby.”

“But-“

“No buts, if you want to make it to the match on time you ride shotgun.” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the other door and he grumbled as he started to walk around. “If it’s any consolation, you can pick the music.”

The door creaked open and slammed shut behind him before he groaned and you laughed as you climbed in to see him holding his phone, the Spotify app useless with the old radio. “Forgot to mention, she only takes cassette tapes.”

“You know you can update the stereo,” he pointed out as he opened the glove compartment and rifled through the stacks of old cassettes. “Fleetwood Mac. Michael Jackson. There’s nothing from this century.”

“Hey, don’t hate on them. They are classics and this is a classic car.” You turned the key and grinned as he dropped the tape at the sudden roar that was deafening in the small garage. “You might want to buckle up, baby.”

“Why are there racing harnesses in here?” he asked as he pulled the five point harness over his shoulders and bucked it in.

“You probably shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” you admitted as you shoved a random mixtape into the radio and turned the volume dial up.

The kick drum intro to Ram Jam’s Black Betty thumped from the speakers as you pushed down the clutch and put the ‘70 Dodge Charger into gear. The full force of the V8 engine drove your body back into the seat as the car hurtled forward and burst into the sunlight. Charles latched onto the handle above his door and while the other hand pressed against the dash and his knees tucked up like he was preparing for impact.

“I’m trying not to be insulted here,” you huffed as you pushed his knee down between shifting gears. “I may not have a super licence like some people, but I have never crashed.”

A terrified scream erupted as you burst out of the driveway and pulled the handbrake, kicking the back wheels out as you drifted into the quiet suburban street and took off with a trail of burnt rubber. Your neighbours wouldn’t be too happy but you didn’t care as long as you got Charles to where he needed to be on time.

You spared a glance over to your boyfriend and saw the whites of his eyes as they stared at the road ahead and his knuckles turned white from the tight gripe he held. “Chérie, road, road, cars, look, traffic, look at the road. The road!”

He turned to you wide eyed as you approached the busy intersection at full speed before hitting the brake. You held his eye contact as you shifted down the gears before coming to a gentle stop at the lines in front of the traffic light and he exhaled in relief.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said but the words were warm and his smile was one amazement as the adrenaline hit him. His hands tugged the harness until it was snug and he settled into the seat as you waited for the light to turn green. “I’m ready this time.”

“Good, because we won’t make it if I stop for every red light.”

“Wait, what?” The light changed and you put your foot to the floor as Charles chuckled nervously. “You’re joking right?”

“If it helps, sure,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of the cars and ignoring the angry honks of their horns. “Do you think I could take your car for a spin?”

“Absolutely…not.”

You narrowed your eyes as he got your hopes up and almost missed the turn that would shave a few seconds off the travel time. Any normal person would have struggled to stay upright in their seat but Charles’ line of work made it easy for him to tense his abdominals and neck so he barely moved as the mass shifted and the back wheels drifted behind the turn.

“What if I let you drive this?” you bartered as the road straightened out and you reached speeds high enough to instantly lose your licence and the car.

“Oh, mon amour,” he murmured as he chewed his bottom lip and he debated the offer before looking at his watch. “If you get me there before kick off you have a deal.”

He should have known you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity very few people got and the smile you gave him gave him pause as he wondered what he had just got himself into.

“It’s going to be tight,” you muttered as you saw the time, just catching the hint of a smile on his face. “But doable.”

Charles watched with fascination. He saw your eyes scanning the road far ahead, making plans and contingency plans for the hazards that you might face. All the while you blindly shifted up the gears with your feet working in tandem, releasing the accelerator as you double clutched for a smoother transition.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he chuckled in disbelief as you took a corner with enough speed that he knew there had to be some g-force working against you, but you didn’t even notice as you gripped the wheel tight and exited the apex without slowing down.

“I’m pretty sure if you were dreaming we would be doing something else, not driving.”

“I’m not sure now, I’m finding this extremely hot. You could pull over and make that dream come true?”

“And miss out on driving your baby? No way.” You shook your head with a laugh before biting your lip. “It is tempting, but I have to think of the children. They would be very disappointed if you didn’t show up for the match.”

“And Pierre, I don’t think he would forgive me.”

“I said children didn’t I. Oh, shit.” You ripped the handbrake and did a 180 as you missed the street you needed. “Stop distracting me.”

The stadium was just up ahead and you could see the parking lot on the other side of the overpass but there was only one road to get there. Unless you wanted to drive the long way around but then you would be late.

“Amour, that’s a one way street,” Charles pointed out as you headed to the underground pass. “You’re going the wrong way. There’s traffic cameras here too.”

“You’re right,” you huffed before twisting the wheel a little to the left then all the way to the right. The suspension would not like the pressure you were putting it under but she spun around and you shoved the car in reverse and draped your arm across Charles’ chair as you looked over your shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to get a fine.”

The engine roared inside the tunnel as you pushed the limits of the gear and you swerved through the lanes. You were grateful that it wasn’t rush hour traffic so there were only a few drivers angry with your recklessness before you burst out of the tunnel, through the intersection and into the parking lot.

The stadium was quiet since the event was only televised but there were still lots of media crews at the entrance and they all turned your way as the back of your car careened towards them. You reached the last row of empty parking spaces and pulled the handbrake, whipping the front around and coming to a stop beside the gate entrance.

“Twelve seconds to spare,” you laughed as you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel. “That will be twenty euros and a five star rating, s’il vous plaît.”

“Just enough time to change my shorts,” he joked as he pushed his door open.

“Good thing they are black this year,” you retorted with a laugh as you tossed him his boots he would have forgotten. “Go, I’ll meet you inside.”

He blew a kiss as he took off at a jog and waved to the stunned reporters who were still recording.

“Is that Y/N?” A female presenter asked her male colleague.

“Leclerc’s girlfriend?” He laughed and shook his head. “No way. This has to be some stunt.”

You drove more sedately to a spot a few spaces away where you spotted Pierre’s car and parked beside it before killing the engine and letting the silence settle. Adjusting your mirror, you saw everyone still watching, waiting to see who it was being the wheel.

“I told you,” the woman gasped as she elbowed the man. “It was her! Do you have a moment?”

“Sorry, games about to kick off,” you apologised as you rushed past and into the stadium just in time to see Charles faceplant. “Ohh,” you gasped along with the others watching before cupping your hands around your mouth. “Yellow card ref!”

“He tripped over himself,” Kika whispered as she joined you.

“Oh I know, I just thought he could use a little 15 minute rest.” You grinned as you gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He’s had a rough morning.”

“What happened?”

“He stubbed his toe.” Your phone started vibrating and you pulled it out of your pocket to see your twitter notifications blowing up. “Huh, that was quick. The devil works hard but F1 fans work harder.”

You showed her the thread which started with a short clip of your car thrashing it down the street, Charles holding on for dear life. You chuckled as you saved it to show him later, knowing he would get a kick out of it too.

“Yeah, I don’t think that was the stubbed toe, hun…” she hummed.

“Meh,” you shrugged, pocketing the device so you could concentrate on the game.

Charles and Pierre’s team won the match and you climbed over the baluster to jump down to the grass as the pair jogged over. Charles swept you up with a proud grin as he spun around.

“Well played, handsome,” you praised as you brushed his sweaty hair back into place before helping yourself to a quick kiss.

“Wouldn’t have made it without you, chérie.”

Pierre clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head to the reporters waiting for a post match interview and he reluctantly placed your feet back on the ground.

“Well, this should be interesting,” you muttered to Kika as you waved to the camera that remained pointed at you until Charles said something.

“Just how bad was your driving?” she asked curiously.

“Bad? Oh it wasn’t bad,” you chuckled. “My driving is actually very good, if I do say so myself. It was just a little faster than he was expecting.”

She curled an eyebrow up. “He goes 200 mph for a living.”

“Yeah, funny right.”

Charles was still catching his breath when the microphone was held in front of him and could see videos of his entrance playing on the big screens around the stadium. Pierre’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair in surprise as he saw the black Charger spinning to a stop and his friend climbing out.

“No fucking way,” Pierre laughed as he looked back at you laughing with his girlfriend. “That’s awesome.”

“I know right,” Charles said with a proud smile. “You should have seen it, she was going full on sideways through these corners, it was insane.”

“So, Charles, I'm sure this comes as no surprise,” the reported began, “but we have some questions about your girlfriend, after the entrance she made.”

“You have some questions?” He threw his head back and laughed. “I have some questions! I had no idea she could drive like that.”

“Her father is a rally driver. Did you really never suspect anything?”

“My mother is a hairdresser, doesn’t mean I am good at cutting hair. Why do you think I wore a bandana during lockdown? I butchered it that’s why.” He brushed his hair back that had thankfully grown back after his terrible attempt and laughed to himself. “So no, I didn’t assume she could drive because her father can.”

The interview finally turned to the football match and then a little bit about the upcoming race before Charles was able to escape. He held up a finger and mouthed one minute as he made a detour to the few fans that had been invited. He talked with some of them, shaking hands and signing autographs.

You wolf whistled loudly as Charles took his shirt off and he grinned without even having to check who it came from before he gave it to a fan and waved goodbye. You knew you were staring as he jogged back and you knew you weren’t the only one, but he only had eyes for you as he gave you a wink and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“How cool is that shot,” he said as he looked up at the screens still playing a rotation of highlights from the game and your arrival. “There’s just one way to make it better.”

“Excuse me?” you dared him to criticise your driving but his charming smile only grew wider.

“Do it in a Ferrari.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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wtfsteveharrington · 2 years

Text

sorry to interrupt / steve harrington x reader

content & contains: requested!! set during s4. you were on watch duty with steve, he convinces you to share the special treatment you receive at the wheelers.

reader wakes up to steve grinding against her, lil bit of perv!steve (my beloved), choking (steve receiving), thigh riding, hints of hung steve!size kink, hand job, pussy job, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie. mentions of bruising/hickies, tearing up, and scratching.

author’s note: realized after that this is all technically happening at his ex girlfriend’s house......... sorry nancy. all my love to @yellowharrington & @chestharrington who always encourage every unholy thought i have and eagerly read whatever brain rot i give them at all hours of the day.

word count: almost 4.9k

i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

Out of all the random kids who run around his house, you’re Ted Wheeler’s favorite.

Everyone else was stuck piling into the cramped basement while Ted made a big show of letting you know that the guest bedroom was made up for you. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t so entertained by the groans of protest coming from Dustin and Steve.

Steve who then, suspiciously, made sure he was on watch duty with you.

The two of you took first watch and it went by relatively quickly. Steve was dozing off in his chair again while you kept yourself alert with one of the old puzzles that sat around the Wheeler’s basement. He wakes up after about 15 minutes, clearly startled before giving you a sheepish smile. You weren’t sure how well he was sleeping these days, so the sight of him knocked out for any amount of time? You would have let him sleep the whole night through.

There’s the sound of shuffling filling up the quiet room as he comes to sit next to you on the floor, the sides of your thighs pressed flush together under the low coffee table, and begins working on the puzzle as well. Sorting out edge pieces and making piles of what he assumes goes together. There’s an almost finished ocean scape in front of you when faint beeping started to come from Lucas Sinclair’s watch, signaling it was shift change. He’s groggy, sitting up and grumbling to himself as he tries to wake up.

Steve slides a soda, the only source of caffeine almost all the kids would willingly drink, and a few snacks across the table towards the boy. Lucas gives you both the best smile he can muster, scanning the room and finding Max sat on the floor by the desk. He’s grabbing the stuff off the table, the blanket from the couch, and stumbling his way through the dark room towards Max.

You and Steve start collecting your own things. He’s grabbing your bag out of your hands, slinging it on his shoulder so you didn’t have to carry it, grabbing his jacket off the chair while you get your shoes from the foot of the couch. You spare a glance across the basement, heart melting as you watch Lucas wrap the blanket around his and Max’s shoulders. He takes a sip of the Coke then offers the can towards her, giving her knee a squeeze once his hand was free. They easily settle into a hushed conversation and you catch Steve smiling at the sight too before you both make your way up the stairs.

Steve’s shared his bed with you. Twice. Once after a party at his house got a little too crazy and there was no way you could drive, or even walk, home. You woke up tucked into his bed, your hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and a cup of water with Advil sitting next to it on the nightstand.

The second time was late one night after the Starcourt incident. There had been a group of you who got together a week later once things settled down. Recounting what each person knew and had been through while everyone was apart. It wasn’t always the easiest to talk about but everyone agreed it was important that all information be out on the table. Almost everyone slowly trickled out one by one as the night got later, all except Robin who excused herself to the guest bedroom to sleep. You could have sworn she gave Steve a very pointed look as she left the living room, leaving the two of you alone on the couch, but you were pretty sure you imagined it.

It was Steve’s turn to fall asleep first that night. You let him sleep on your shoulder for about twenty minutes before exhaustion finally threatened to take over your body.

All you planned on doing was getting him upstairs to his room, but he grabbed your hand as you turned to leave and asked you to stay. Mumbling something about how it was late and, more importantly, how he felt safer with you around. Probably something he wouldn’t admit without the fog of sleep but it worked. You two woke up in a tangled mess, letting yourselves savor the connection for a little longer than you should have, quickly excusing yourself to freshen up once it began to drag on a little too long.

Robin grinned into her coffee cup that entire morning the three of you ate breakfast together, both of you pushing food around your plates while refusing to look at one another.

So yeah, sharing your bed with him tonight was the least you could do.

You’re getting ready for bed in a comfortable silence. Changing into an oversized shirt from your bag and taking off whatever remnants of your makeup made it this far into the night. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Steve stripping down to just his boxes then tugging a pair of sweatpants on. He’s scratching his bare chest and you focus on the way his fingers drag through his chest hair absentmindedly. You spare a thought as to what it must feel like to touch his chest before going back to getting ready for bed while he untucks the blanket and gets the bed ready for the night.

You guys settle into bed easily. Exhaustion taking over before either of you have the time to overthink being in bed together.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

You were hot.

Like, depths of hell levels of insanely hot.

It takes a minute to register where this heat is coming from as you wake up... Low and behold, Steve Harrington did not stick to his side of the bed. At first you assume he’s just reached out to cuddle against you in his sleep. It would make sense. But then you feel something that quickly breaks down that theory and now you’re trying to process the fact holy shit he’s hard and holy shit he’s grinding on you in his sleep.

Maybe for the slightest, briefest of moments you allow yourself to enjoy the feeling. You’d be outraged if it were anyone else, but for some reason the fact that it’s Steve? The man who’s saved you life multiple times? The man who tucks his stupid shirts into his stupid jeans and loves to play with his stupid belt buckle absentmindedly when he’s thinking? The very same man who always seems to have his hand on your knee when you sit together or your lower back while you walk next to him? Maybe you’re having a little less concern towards the situation than you should.

You can feel Steve twitching against your ass, a low moan right in your ear. Part of you wonders what he’s dreaming about... Fine, maybe you’re solely wondering if he’s dreaming about you and oddly jealous if he’s not. He’s rocking up against you, a shockingly smooth motion.

Finally you reach backwards, gently squeezing his hip a few times to wake him up. “Steve? Stevie?” He’s grumbling against your hair, tightening his grip on your body and pulling the two of you flush together. You’re starting to get wet, heat building between your thighs as you squeeze at him a bit more frantically. “Steve Harrington wake up.”

He fully awakes with a jolt. Taking a moment to assess the situation before jerking his hips back from you and stuttering out a string of apologies. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry. How long have you been awake? Did you feel that? I can’t believe-...” Cutting himself off and burying his face in his hands as he lays flat on the bed. Did you feel that? There was no way you couldn’t have felt it.

You risk a glance back just to see Steve’s chest rising and falling so quickly, a noticeable bulge coming from under the blanket that’s slung low on his waist. You desperately want to reach out and touch him. “Not a big deal.” He’s scoffing now, hands coming down to his chest. You have to look away.

“Not a big deal? I have no clue what the hell came over me. Just give me like a second to collect myself. Gonna take care of this mess in the bathroom and then I’ll sleep downstairs tonight.”

The mental image of him jerking off in the bathroom doesn’t help your situation.

“Steve there’s like twenty people in this house and only two bathrooms. You’re gonna end up getting interrupted and I don’t wanna have to explain to people why you went from sleeping with me to jacking off in the bathroom. If you have to take care of yourself, do it in here. Won’t look, promise.” Sure, maybe it’s flawed logic but it’s late.

He doesn’t waste any time, throwing the blanket off his overheated body as you turn your back towards him. Steve’s pretending not to notice how the blanket’s now mostly on your side and in front of your body. Leaving your thighs, the bottom curve of your ass, everything exposed to him. He tightens his grip on his cock while letting his eyes wonder across the seam of your panties until they disappear between your thighs. Maybe it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself.

In the comfort of your half asleep haze, this didn’t seem like too bad of an idea... But now you hear Steve’s breathy whimpers as he strokes himself right behind you and you’re starting to question your decision. He’s spitting into his hand, now slick his fist around his cock sounds now is making you rub your thighs together for some ounce of relief. A motion that might have gone unnoticed if all of his focus wasn’t on you.

His head falls back on the pillow, cock twitching in his fist. “Fuck.” A high pitched, broken sound. You arch your ass out a little more, the cold chill in the air alerting you that it’s exposed. You’re mumbling into your pillow, “Someone’s gonna hear you… Won’t exactly help our cause”

There’s little shame. His moans are getting more out of control. Louder, drawn out. It’s making you throb and feel dizzy at the same time.

“Do I need to make you be quiet?”

The response comes quick, surprising you both.

“Fuck yes.”

You finally turn around in the bed to face him, body working on auto pilot because you can’t actually think about what’s happening. Maybe this is just some grand plot you’re dreaming up? That seems more feasible.

Throwing one of your legs over his thigh in order to straddle it, you adjust yourself until your core is flush against his skin. Telling yourself it’s just to keep your body balanced, nothing more. Yet, at the same time, the feeling of your warmth on his skin instantly pulls a loud moan out of Steve, his knee coming up with the same mental excuse of trying to give you stability. That’s all. Nothing more. You were just a friend trying to help him out and keep you both from getting shit if the rest of the group found out.

He’s moaning out your name now, a needy and wanton sound.

You never knew he could be so loud.

Again your body acts before your mind can catch up.

One of your hands comes up to clamp over Steve’s mouth, his eyes going wide as he now moans against your palm and the vibrations on your skin sending shivers down your spine. You watch as he’s clutching the sheets beneath you both, his cock laying on his stomach so heavy and so pretty. He notices that you’re stuck staring down at him, deciding to push his luck by arching his hips up towards you.

The action makes you smirk, feeling extremely drunk on power. You drag your nails down his chest with your free hand, slowly rocking your core along his thigh at the same time. Steve can feel you getting more wet, his cock once again twitching at all the stimulation.

“You want me to touch you?”

He responds by tilting his hips up towards his chest, desperately trying to get dick closer to your hand. You take some pity, swiping your pointer finger along his slit to collect the precum dripping out. Making a big show of sticking your tongue out and licking your finger clean. Steve’s kissing at your hand over his mouth, silently begging for you to give him anything before he combusts.

Your hand falls down from your lips to between your thighs, collecting some of the wetness pooling at your core, using that hand to finally wrap around Steve’s length. He’s bucking up into your fist, groaning out your name into your other hand. You lower yourself back on his thigh, rocking your hips along it in time with with the movement of your wrist. He’s just slighting moving his leg back and forth, adding a bit more friction.

Watching him writher under you while you work his length is a power trip like you’ve never felt. Steve’s going wild which only adds to your ego. Humming his approval at your motions.

It’s not until your fingers slide from his mouth to cup his balls, marveling the weight of them in your hand and tightening your grip around his cock that Steve really starts to lose all train of thought. Biting down on his lip to keep from getting too loud.

Your thrown off balance when his hands start grabbing at your hips, pulling your body towards him. You take the hint, eagerly straddling his waist and reaching down to push your ruined panties to the side. Lowering yourself until Steve’s length is tucked between your folds.

“Holy fuc-“

You’ll never know what came over you tonight, but your hand flies up to Steve’s throat. Gently applying pressure to either side while his adam’s apple vibrates against your palm with all the moans he can’t actually make. “Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” He’s nodding enthusiastically, an almost panicked look behind his eyes at the thought of you leaving him now.

Steve’s not sure what is driving him more crazy - The slick sound of your pussy rubbing over his cock, the dizzying way you keep applying a fluttering pressure to his neck, or the way you keep whimpering out his name. Just barely a whisper. Quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear it across the room. But it’s his name, and his name has never sound as beautiful as it does falling from your lips.

The head of his cock bumps into your clit, your body giving a small jerk at the sensation. That small movement is his final point of no return and you barely have time to register the fact that you’re moving before Steve has you pinned under him. A cocky grin on his face as he easily takes back all the power you thought you had. You’re grabbing at his shoulders, withering uncomfortably under him as the tension begins building... You needed to be touched, stat.

Steve’s taking pity on you, his hands cupping your sides under your shirt, dragging them up your body. Your chest is now exposed to him, and he leaves you to fumble through fully getting your shirt off while his mouth wraps around one of your nipples. His thumb flicks at the other as you wrap your legs around his waist, rocking yourself up towards him. There’s a stray thought where you’re silently cursing yourself for not wearing cuter underwear, but in your defense who would have thought this was going to happen.

You’re bucking your hips now, freely letting yourself get a little needy because you can tell it does something to Steve. He’s moving from your nipple to the side of your breast, sucking on random spots that were sure to leave a pretty bruise on your skin. He’s pulling away from your tits before running his hands down your body. Only stopping the motion once the waistband of your panties are on his fingers.

He’s grabbing two fistfuls of the ruined material covering your core, tugging it apart with a grunt. Ripping off your underwear and throwing the scraps at the foot of the bed. You yelp out at the motion, the loudest you’ve been all night. He’s figuring out he likes breaking down parts of your self control.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll buy you more.”

His lips are dragging along your jaw while his hand finds your now bare center, cupping over it and keeping his hand flat and firm against you. Now it’s Steve’s turn to tease.

“Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” Mimicking your question from earlier.

You instantly nod, arching your hips up off the bed towards him. The small power trip you had earlier almost all but gone as he now takes control. He’s kissing a path from your jaw to your cheek until your lips are just barely together. His ghosting over yours while both of you are a mess of broken and heavy breaths. That’s all you can give each other but somehow it’s more than enough.

“Can I kiss you?” Murmured against your lips. A thoughtful gesture that’s going to make you squeal when you think about this tomorrow, even if it feels a little redundant in the moment. You’re pressing a kiss to his bottom lip for an answer and as your lips finally connect you feel his two fingers drag up through your folds. His thumb presses up towards your clit while he wastes no time pushing those two fingers into you. You’re moaning into his mouth, jaw going slack as Steve’s fingers crook inside of you at the same time his tongue swirls around yours.

You’re reaching to push at his sweatpants and boxers, finally getting them all the way down his thighs and you’re amazed that his motions inside of you don’t stop while he kicks his clothes the rest of the way off. That familiar, uncomfortable tension is building deep inside of you again, your arms wrapping around Steve’s chest and your nails dragging along his skin. It entices a moan out of him and the sound goes straight to your clit.

“Need more, Steve. Need you to fuck me.”

He’s pulling back to look over your face, his fingers still working deep inside of you which makes it harder to concentrate on him. “Can’t fuck you tonight.” What the fuck? Frustration builds, your eyes burning with the threat of tears at the idea that you won’t get what you clearly so desperately need. There’s lips on the corner of your mouth, “No condom, Baby.” Steve’s head cocks to the side, glancing down where the hallway should be. “I wonder if Ted has any. You think he still gets laid? Bet you there’s some in those bathroom drawers.”

“Disgusting! Shut up! You are not going to fuck me with Ted Wheeler’s expired condoms.”

“You’re right... They’re probably too small away.” Steve’s shaking his head as if he’s shaking the thought out of his mind. You were half convinced if there was one more mention of Ted Wheeler you were going to dry up. His wrist is twisting, hitting a new angle as he slips a third finger into you. You know, if you were already making questionable decisions tonight you may as well go all the way. “Just pull out?” It comes out sounding like such a pathetic little question. His jaw tightens and he has to think of every single horrific thing he’s ever seen in life to keep himself from finishing right then and there.

His hand slides out of you as you cry in protest, but it’s seconds later that you feel the head of his cock tapping against your clit. Firm and heavy pressure that has you dragging your nails so hard down his back that you’re leaving behind a mess of angry red marks. Steve swears he must have died at some point and managed to find his way to heaven.

“Never went without one before.” The tip of his cock his pressing against your hole and you can both feel as you tighten around what he’s barely giving you.

“Steve, holy shit. Please, please, please. Need you so bad I don’t even care if you pull out at this point. Just fuck me.” You’re a babbling mess and if you had any pride left you probably would be embarrassed. Every word is playing a risky game with his self control. His eyes are trained on you while he sinks into you slow, both of you savoring the sensation as he stretches you out inch by inch. It’s your turn to get a little loud, Steve instantly leaning in to start kissing you. All in an effort to keep you from getting them caught. You’re choking out a whine into his mouth and his eyes literally roll back at how angelic the sound was.

“Steve, fuck. Feel so full.”

“I know, Honey. Doing such a good job taking me, aren’t you? Your tight little cunt-... Jesus Christ, so fucking amazing.”

It takes every ounce of strength Steve has to not shove himself the rest of the way into you. Wrapped so well around his cock, the way you’re gripping at whatever inch of his body you can reach. This moment will be all he thinks about from now on. Unless he’s lucky enough to get to fuck you again. Then that might take the cake. Then the time after that… He’s refocusing himself on the moment at hand, licking into your mouth and fisting the bed sheets on either side of your waist for more stability.

You feel his trimmed bush on your clit, his balls resting heavy against you as Steve stays still to let you adjust.

He’s reaching down, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and bringing your legs up until your knees are over his shoulders. Tilting his head to the side and gently nipping at your calf before licking over the small bite marks. His breathing is getting shallow as he feels you mold around his cock, tightening yourself on his length as you get used to the feeling.

Steve thought you choking him was going to be the hottest thing he saw tonight, but something about the way your hand clamps tight over your own mouth to muffle moans you can’t hold back... It’s his undoing. You’re crying out into your hand as he starts to stroke his hips into you once you’re both settled in the new position. His brows knit in concentration as he sets the rhythm, all the way back just the head of his cock is left in you, then sinking in once again.

If he goes too quickly the wet sounds of his dick stretching out your pussy fill the room and it’s not exactly quiet. So instead he’s fucking into you with an intensity you had never felt before. His hands are gripping at your thighs and fuck he can’t decide what to look at - The way your tits are moving in time with his strokes, the blissed out look on your face, or the way he keeps sinking in and out of you.

Your thighs are already starting to shake, body on the edge of a much needed orgasm. “Want you to come in me, Steve.” A low, guttural sound rips out of Steve’s chest, his movements getting sharper. “Wanna feel you dripping out of me.” Another thing you’re not quite sure where it came from tonight, but he seems to be pulling a lot of unexpected things out of you.

“Fuck, yeah? Okay, shit, I can do that.”

You reach down between your bodies, toying with your clit while staring up at him. Even like this, forehead damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed, you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks. Oddly enough? Steve must be thinking the same thing because he pulls out of your admiring trance with a -

“So beautiful.”

Heat erupts in your chest.

You have to look away from him, content on staring at the wall until there’s a hand on your cheek, nudging you back to looking at him. “Wanna watch you... Can you do that for me? Let me see how pretty you look when you come and I’ll fill you up for being good to me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s picking up his pace, noise level be damned. Fucking into with a fevered passion that you had never felt. You’re clawing at his chest with one hand, the other one still working at your clit, and fighting every instinct to close your eyes. There’s a part of you that fears he would pull out if you look away and it would fully break you if that happened.

“Can feel you’re close... Wanna feel you let go for me, Baby.” Both of your hands are grabbing at Steve now, arching your chest up towards him and it only takes one more deep stroke before the tension in your body snaps. Your orgasm rushing through every inch of you. He’s watching you fall apart, fully amazed at the sight.

He’s still fucking into your oversensitive pussy, the feeling making you cry out. There’s a death grip on your thighs as Steve chases his own thigh, taking just a few more strokes when you can feel him still his hips all of a sudden. Taking mere seconds before he’s unloading deep inside of you. God you feel so messy now. The mixture of you both is dripping out around his cock, both of you trying to recover. He’s carefully sitting your legs back on the bed, leaning forward while you stay connected to lazily kiss you.

Your hands tangle in his hair, his arms find their way behind your back. Neither of you care that you’re both a sweaty, sticky mess. In fact, you’re wrapped up so tightly against Steve’s chest that you’re half convinced the two of you are going to be permanently stuck together.

The two of you lay like that for a moment until the sound of your giggle breaks the silence. Steve’s pulling back, looking at you with a cocked brow. You’re reaching up to push the hair from his forehead, giving a small shrug. “Just can’t believe that happened... Can’t believe you’re still inside of me, can’t believe we just fucked in the Wheeler’s guest room, can’t believe it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Always thought you were all talk, Harrington.”

He’s scoffing now, leaning into your touch as your hands rest on his cheeks. “Trust me, that was equally as insane for me. Can’t believe you tricked me into coming in you.” You gasp at his words, pulling your hands from his face to playfully shove at his chest. “Excuse me! Certainly didn’t hear you complaining.”

Steve’s grinning down at you, slowly pulling his hips back from your which has you both groaning at the loss of the other. He’s kneeling back on the bed, holding your thighs apart and admiring just how pretty you look all fucked out. Only allowing himself to look for just a moment before he’s on a mission to get you guys cleaned up and back to bed.

You both end up stumbling down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible and praying no one catches you. There’s no way to explain what’s happening without looking guilty.

To both of your surprise Ted Wheeler does have condoms. They may have expired in 1972, but he does have them.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

Robin’s propped up on the back of the counter, kicking her feet through the air as everyone stumbles their way through the kitchen to get their breakfast. “Hey there... Sleep well?” She says with a smirk. No way she knows, right? You start to panic a little, wondering if there is a stray hickey on display or if it just shows on your faces that ‘Hey! Steve came in me last night!’.

Were you limping that noticeably? The ache deep in your hips a reminder of what Steve did to you last night.

The counter turns left and comes out to separate the kitchen from the dining room. You walk over, hopping up on the part of the counter she’s not on, giving her the most normal smile you can muster. “Yeah, nothing crazy.”

Steve’s walking around the counter with two glasses of juice, handing you one with this sheepish smile that certainly doesn’t help your deniability.

Almost worse than the juice?

The way he steps between your legs, turning his back to you and resting his elbows on your knees while facing the rest of the kitchen. Your face feels so hot as he settles in between you, everyone stealing a side eye glance. You swear you can hear Dustin mutter something along the lines of “Holy shit, finally.”

Robin’s got this loud bubble of entertained laugher,

“Nothing crazy, huh?”

#s.h. ♡#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader

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mae-gi-writes · 11 months

Text

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

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elisespage · 9 days

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Absolutely loved your most recent post! It was so heartwarming <3

Could you maybe write something about Jude with a reader a with sweet tooth? She's always wanting something sweet so maybe her and Jude bake something :)

in which your midnight cravings convince jude to make pancakes together.

jude was fast asleep next to you, snoring away with his arm loosely hung around your waist. it was pitch black outside yet you couldn’t find sleep.

perhaps it was because you just weren’t tired or maybe it was because all you could think about was pancakes.

your sister had facetimed you before and she was making them, which had kickstarted your need for the sweet treat.

jude knew how much of a sweet tooth you had and there was always chocolate or sweets in the cupboard, which he’d find you munching on late at night.

the thought of pancakes was becoming too much for you, so you carefully moved jude’s hand away and creeped to the kitchen, getting everything out to make the pancakes.

you knew you shouldn’t be eating chocolate at night so you opted for blueberries and syrup instead. you worked on the batter and when it was done, you decided you’d make fluffy pancakes instead.

as you poured the batter into the pan, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, jude’s head leaning to rest on your shoulder. “why are you up so late baby?”

“needed something sweet. i was thinking pancakes.”

“you should have woke me up, i love your pancakes.”

when you and jude first got together, you were both terrible cooks. your sister suggested taking cooking classes but he didn’t want to, so you spent multiple hours on youtube following tutorials, most of them being about baking.

pancakes became your thing, something you’d make together at least twice a week.

“do we have any strawberries left?” jude asked, routing through the contents of the fridge looking for his favourite pancake topping. “no, just blueberries.”

“well there’s my pancakes ruined,” he groaned, moving to one of the barstools and taking a seat. “you can have syrup instead, that’s what i’m having.”

jude’s favourite part about making pancakes was flipping them. he loved watching it fly in the air then drop back into the pan. you used to laugh at him for it because it was something a ten year old did, but he didn’t mind.

when it came time to flipping them, you told jude and he joined your side again. “okay, don’t throw it too high. there’s still a stain on the ceiling from the last one,” you snorted, handing the pan to jude.

jude had a smug look on his face as he flipped it perfectly, shaking the pan a little like he watched in the youtube videos. “you’re too confident, you know that?”

“you love it,” he laughed, grabbing your cheeks and pushing them together. he pecked your head then your nose and then moved on to your lips.

“the pancakes are going to burn,” you moved away from him, grabbing the spatula to put them on the plates. “do you want blueberries or not?”

“please.”

pouring the maple syrup on top, you slid the plate across the counter for him. “hey y/n, look.”

jude had placed a couple of blueberries on top of his pancakes and made them look like a smiley face. you smiled at him and he cut into it, holding the fork up to your mouth.

“they’re so nice,” you groaned, joining his side with your own plate. “you know what, we need to make these more often. they just taste better at this time.”

the pair of you ate the pancakes together, joking about random things and jude wrapped you in his blanket, the pair of you walking back to the bedroom to find sleep.

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football x reader #football imagine #football

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thesunisatangerine · 6 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door.

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other.

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space.

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?”

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response.

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?��

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine.

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway.

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.”

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.”

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV.

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold.

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this.

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras.

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth.

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you.

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you.

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm.

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.”

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.”

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back.

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you.

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing.

Then it was your turn to gasp.

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck.

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure.

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: i think this is the halfway point guys for this one #ik alexia mentioned somewhere that she has dinner with her family on fridays but for this fic's sake i made it to saturdays lol #also i have a backlog of ideas i wanna start writing but i really wanna finish this one first #just a side note this part is 4.3k #so on aggregate this is officially the longest fanfic id written so far.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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impala-dreamer · 2 months

Text

Not Your Fault

A Supernatural Story

~Something is in the air and your boss takes notice...~

Dean Smith x F!Reader

2,070 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Office Sex. Probably Illegal. All consensual.

Fics like this and so many more are available on my patreon!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

It wasn’t your fault, really.

Since you woke up that morning, you were wet; your panties worthlessly snuggled deep into your slit, blankets twisted around your legs. You need to be fucked, but no amount of self-pleasure made your predicament any better.

Late for work because the shower just felt too good, you tried to keep busy at your desk to make up for the lost time. Phones were ringing off the hook, emails were piling up, and your boss had two appointments that canceled on him, leaving him a little frazzled.

Despite the hectic day, you couldn’t help the arousal still throbbing inside of you. Your clit had a mind of its own, distracting you anytime you moved in your chair or walked to the copier. Even the tiniest brush of your skirt against your thighs made the wetness worse and by ten, you were sure there was a giant wet spot in your panties.

But it wasn’t your fault, not really.

There was just something in the air; maybe the moon was full. Whatever it was, you were totally distracted, totally mindlessly moving through the day with a deep ache between your legs.

Twice, you snuck away to the restroom to rub your pussy; your back against the cold wall, legs spread as wide as the stall would allow. Your bottom lip was dented by your teeth as you bit back moans of frustrated pleasure, trying to cum but failing each time.

It wasn’t your fault, not really.

One o’clock rolled by and most of the office had gone to lunch. You were about to go yourself, hoping to run home and sit on your vibrator for forty minutes or so when your boss called you into his office.

“Y/N? Got a second?”

Dean Smith sat behind his desk, green eyes glowing in the light from his laptop screen. He looked stressed, his tie loose around his neck, collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. It had been a difficult few weeks, you knew, and he was starting to show the signs.

“Mr. Smith?” You smiled in the doorway when he finally looked up to acknowledge you.

His eyes ran quickly down your body and you could feel your nipples harden beneath your blouse. “Come in,” he said, “shut the door.”

You obeyed, quietly shutting the door and taking a seat in the chair across from him. The glare from the computer made him look ghastly, but he clicked it off even as the thought crossed your mind.

“Is...everything ok, Mr. Smith?” you asked, your mind reeling with a thousand anxious thoughts. Had you done something wrong? Did you miss a deadline sending out the TSK Reports?

He smiled and you relaxed almost instantly. “Everything’s...fine,” he said; deep voice filling the room and your head. He was gorgeous, so well groomed and immaculately dressed; you wondered vaguely what he smelled like. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“To me?” Your cheeks warmed and you felt your nipples harden as he looked at you. Did he know how wet you were? How desperate to cum?

Mr. Smith stood up and slowly came around the desk, perching on the edge next to you. “I couldn’t help but notice how distracted you’ve been all day.” There was no annoyance in his voice, no accusation, he merely stated a fact.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, I-”

“Please,” he smiled, “Dean.”

Your heart was racing, his smile was too incredible. “Dean. I have been a little off today, I know, but I promise, I’m-”

He held up a hand, begging for your patience. “I think I know what’s been on your mind all day,” he said, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “It’s been on mine too.”

You sucked in a deep breath and his cologne hit you like a drug. It was heavy but sweet, spicy, and warm. It flowed through your system like wine and you bit your lip, trying not to moan. “And...what’s that?” you asked, trying to clear the desire from your head.

“Sex.”

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, breath fanning your cheek as he pulled back slowly. “I’ve been watching you all day. You’re practically begging for it. It’s seeping from your pores. I can smell how wet you are, how aroused…”

Swallowing hard, you dared yourself to meet his eye and not whimper. “This is extremely inappropriate.”

Dean sat back all the way and held up his hands in surrender. His palms were so wide, his fingers so long and thick, the very idea of them inside of you made your head spin. “My apologies. I’ve misread the situation.”

He went to stand, but something inside you took over. Grabbing his left hand, you pulled it to you and pressed it against your breast.

“You didn’t misread anything,” you whispered. His fingers contracted over you, squeezing your tit gently. You moaned and he pounced, falling to his knees as he kissed you hard, his hot tongue slipping between your lips. He tasted of coffee and wintergreen and his hands were strong. You leaned into him, scooting to the edge of your chair, your legs spreading wide to accommodate his broad frame.

“I knew it,” he growled, lips trailing down your throat, making you dizzy. “I saw you out there, staring at nothing, rocking in your seat… the way you kept sneaking away to the restroom all day… I knew it.” He sucked hard on your pulse and slipped his right hand between your thighs and up beneath your skirt, making you gasp. “Made me so hard I could barely keep working. Just been staring at you all day.”

“Fuck...” Your chest was heaving. “Been so wet all day and I just…” His fingers teased at your pussy, rubbing hard against your soaked panties. “I can’t… I can’t cum.”

Dean left your throat and sat back, grinning wildly at your confession. “I think I can help you out there,” he said, licking his plump lips.

The arousal was overwhelming and you simply nodded, dazed by his touch and the gleam in his emerald eyes. “Please.”

Two warm fingers hooked around the elastic of your panties and you lifted your hips, helping him pull them away.

“Fuck, look at this beautiful cunt.” Dean sucked on his bottom lip as he stared, his mouth watering as you squirmed.

“Please,” you begged, leaning back in the chair and pushing your hips towards him. “Please. I need it so bad.” You squirmed and he chuckled, amused by your neediness.

“You do, huh?” His eyes fluttered up to yours; so beautiful, so devious.

You nodded quickly. “Please, Mr. Smith. Help me cum…”

A smile tickled the corner of his mouth and then he was gone, diving down between your thighs and lapping at the dripping arousal that coated your pussy lips. He hummed happily as your sweetness hit his tongue and buried his face deep between your folds.

You clung to the chair, thankful for the upholstered arms, thanking God that you’d shut the door. His mouth felt like fire on your cunt; his tongue was so soft yet somehow rough at the same time. It felt like years since someone had tasted you properly, and your boss was making all the right moves, devouring you for lunch.

His coiffed hair crunched a bit beneath your fingers as you reached down to grab him, to hold him still while you rolled your hips against his perfect face. He sucked hard on your clit and let you ride him while he snuck to manicured fingers deep inside your cunt.

“Fuck!” The orgasm hit you like a truck, slamming into you before you could draw a preparatory breath. It rolled your eyes and curled your toes, forcing your body to clamp down on his hand as a fresh flood of juices ran down into your ass and all over his hand. “Fuck. Fuck...fuck.”

“Oh, she’s got a nasty mouth on her,” Dean laughed, sitting back with a proud grin. He licked his lips clear of your sheen but kept his fingers slowly pumping inside of you.

Dizzy and still desperate, you agreed, nodding at him with wide, empty eyes and a slack jaw. “Yeah, so nasty.”

“Well, let’s give that nasty mouth something to do.”

He stood quickly and opened his slacks, letting the fancy leather belt hang by his hips. He wore pale blue silk boxers and his cock pushed firmly against the seam, reaching for you all by itself.

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” you teased, coming back to yourself long enough to scoot forward and take hold of his thick cock.

He chewed his lip as you pressed your lips to the tip and then jerked his hips forward, forcing his cock down your throat. He was heavy on your tongue and you gagged around him, your mouth flooding with spit that dribbled down your chin when he pulled back out.

“Oh, you’re fucking perfect,” he praised, reaching down to bundle your hair into one fist, keeping it out of your face. “We should have done this a long time ago.”

You hummed around his shaft and hollowed your cheeks, wanting to taste as much of him as you could. The hand in your hair grew tighter and Dean rocked his hips into you, fucking your mouth with a quickening rhythm.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned. “Is that pussy as tight? I bet it is.”

Pulling back, you let him go with a tight, wet, pop of your lips. “Tighter.”

Dean growled and reached for you, his big hands stiff around your upper arms as he guided you upwards. He looked down at you with hunger in his eyes and spun with you, pushing you down onto his desk, your palms slapping hard against the mahogany top.

You moaned pitifully as your breasts crushed against the desk and spread your legs for him as he stepped up close. “Yes, please.”

“Oh, I like that,” he teased, gripping his cock and rubbing the swollen head against your slit. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Mr. Smith, please fuck me,” you whimpered. “Please, I need your cock so bad. Need to be fucked.”

He pushed inside with a grunt. “Yeah, you do, don’t you? The little office slut.”

“Yes!”

He filled you up perfectly, his thick cock swelling inside your cunt.

“Please…”

It was quick and rough. He slapped your ass as he fucked you into the desk, bruising your belly as he slammed into you again and again.

The big clock behind his desk ticked away the lunch hour and Dean used every last second to break you. Sounds of the office coming back to life permeated the seams of his door, but he paid them no mind, wrecking your cunt until you came again, pulsing hard on his cock. Breathless, you screamed into your forearm and bit down to keep quiet.

“Fuck, that’s it. Keep nice and quiet for me. Don’t want everyone to know what a slut you are.” He slammed into you once more. “Or do we?”

“Please!” Your pussy was aching, beyond sensitive as he kept going, deeper and deeper until you could do nothing else but cling to the desk and try to breathe.

Finally, Dean pulled out and slapped your ass. “Turn around.” He gripped his cock tight and you wobbled upwards, turning around to face him. “Down.” A hand on your shoulder urged you to your knees and you went willingly, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to receive his cum. “Such a good girl.”

He pumped his fist until he came, spilling hot ropes onto your lips that you sucked down happily. Dean slumped over you, bracing himself with his hands on his desk as you licked him clean, swallowing every delicious drop.

“Jesus Christ, you are amazing, you know that?”

With a final smack of your lips, you crawled away and stood up, quickly readjusting your clothing. You were a mess, but it would have to do; hopefully, you could sneak into the restroom to clean up before anyone noticed.

“Will that be all for now, Mr. Smith?” you asked, batting your eyes at him.

He turned and grabbed your arm, pulling you close. “For now,” he whispered before stealing one last kiss.

You were ten minutes late clocking back in, but it really, really was not your fault.

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sunsetreid · 7 months

Text

i'd find you every single day [ s. reid ]

pairing : spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

summary / prompt : it’s been six weeks since the BAU found her, but (Y/N) still has nightmares from the five weeks she was held captive by her ex-boyfriend … yet Spencer is right there to help her through it even though she doesn’t want him to see her like this

requested : no

genre : angst (w the tiniest bit of fluff)

warnings : mentions of kidnapping / assault / torture, flashbacks that include abuse and torture, talks of nightmares, just a generally heavy fic

【 heavy content below - read at your own risk ! 】

She thought it was over.

The moment Aaron Hotchner yelled “FBI” and she was back in the arms of the man that truly loved her, she thought it was all over.

The beatings, the torture, the countless nights of no sleep she suffered at the hands of the guy she once trusted and loved. She thought that those days and nights were done and over with.

Yet, she lies wide awake again for what seems like the sixth time in the past seven nights. Her entire body is shaking from the nightmare that woke her up. Tears wet her cheeks. Her eyes are on the phone that sits on her bedside table.

Spencer told her to call him if she needed him. She did need him, but she always felt so bad when she calls in the middle of the night.

2:39 stares (Y/N) in the face when she picks up the device. With shaky fingers, she pulls up Spencer’s contact information. She sighs and presses the ‘call’ button.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up the phone. She bites her lip, holding back tears.

“(Y/N)?” Spencer’s groggy voice asks. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She wants to tell him everything. She wants to tell him about the nightmares and the fact that most nights, she relives what he did to her.

She begged him to stop. Pleaded with him. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair with rope, the skin was raw where the ropes cut into it.

She was so tired from all the crying and screaming. She was so weak from all the torture and blood loss.

“Please,” she cried as soon as she saw the knife in his hand. “Please don’t hurt me. I can’t do it anymore. Please!”

“Too late.”

There was a sharp pain that dragged across her arm. She screamed until she couldn’t anymore, but it wasn’t enough. No one came for her. No one was coming for her because they didn’t know where she was.

“(Y/N).” Spencer sounded more awake when he said her name. “Do you need me?”

At the last second, she says, “No. I’m sorry for calling and waking you up. I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Before he can get in another word, (Y/N) hangs up the phone. She puts it back down on the table before she curls up around a pillow. She buries her face into the pillow and the fabric of the pillowcase soaks up her tears.

A choked sob comes from her throat, followed by another, and another. Frustration and anger begin to boil.

How could he do this to her? He claimed to love her yet he caused her so much physical pain and suffering those five weeks. He has ruined her life.

(Y/N) hasn’t passed the psychological exam she needs to pass before she could return to work at the BAU. All she has been doing the past six weeks is sitting around her apartment with nothing but her thoughts.

She hasn’t even been able to sleep because all she sees as soon as she closes her eyes is the knife he cut her with and his eyes while he did it.

His eyes. That’s the thing she really remembers.

His bright blue eyes darkened every time he put the knife to her skin. It was like causing her physical pain made him happy and turned him on.

A knock brings (Y/N) out of her head and back to reality. She waits and listens to see if it was something her mind had made up. A second knock causes her to get out of bed.

She is surprised to see Spencer standing outside her door when she looks through the peephole. She unlocks all four locks on her door and swings it open. A pajama-clad Spencer Reid stands on the other side in his plaid pants and Caltech hoodie.

“I said I was fine, Spencer,” she spits at him, her voice hoarse. "Go home. "I don't need you here. You have work in the morning so go back to sleep. Sorry for worrying you."

Spencer frowns and takes a step toward her. She backs up a step. "Don't lie to me, (Y/N)," he tells her when he realizes that he isn't going to be able to touch her. "I know you, and even if I didn't, I'd still know that you have been crying. You're not okay, so here I am."

"I'm fine," she tries again. This time her voice is shaky and her bottom lip wobbles. She doesn't want him to see her cry again. Not over this. "Seriously. I'm okay. I just couldn't shut my brain off long enough to get any sleep. I swear I'm okay."

His face softens and immediately she cracks. He didn't even say anything and she's crying.

"Hey," Spencer softly says. He steps forward and envelopes (Y/N) in his arms. He puts his hands in her hair and softly messages it because he knows it calms her. "You don't have to talk about it right now but if you need to talk about it, then I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I don't care if you tell me you're fine or that you're okay. I'm staying right here."

She nods into the crook of his neck. His hoodie soaks up the tears that are rolling down her cheeks. Spencer reaches behind him and shuts the door. She grips the fabric of his hoodie at his waist and pulls him against her.

This is the only place she has truly felt safe in the past six weeks. The arms of the man she loves have been the safest place for her. They're warm and inviting, and it feels like they're the only two people in the world. She can forget everything that happened a month and a half ago when she's in Spencer's arms.

She closes her eyes as Spencer rocks her side-to-side.

(Y/N)'s head hurt. She didn't know what he did to her. All she felt was blood dripping down her face and blinding her. She tried blinking it away, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"Look at you, gorgeous," he said, one of his fingers running through her blood-soaked hair. "So beautiful."

"Please," she gasped. Her voice was so weak. "Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I promise if you just let me go."

He knelt down beside the wooden chair that she had been in for three weeks. He smiled at her. "No can do, my love," he told her. "It's too late. You work for the FBI. They'll come for me. When I'm done with you, I'll have to kill you."

"He was going to kill me," (Y/N) cries to Spencer. "I didn't know how much longer I had left. I did everything he wanted me to do so you had enough time to find me."

Spencer pulls back a bit and cups her face in his hands. Blood was no longer blinding her. She could clearly see how sad he was. "We found you and you're safe now, baby," he tells her. His thumbs wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'd find you every single day and I'll make sure you're safe for the rest of our lives."

A pout forms on her face as tries tries to stop crying. "I don't deserve you," she mumbles. "I don't-"

"You deserve everything good in the world, (Y/N)," Spencer interrupts her. "I don't care what he told you while he had you. They were all lies. I'm telling you the truth. You deserve everything good, you deserve all the love you get from me and the team. I love you, and I'll keep proving that to you until you believe me."

"You deserve nothing for breaking my heart," he snarled at her. She felt his fist come across her cheek again. She cried out in pain.

"That pretty boy you got for a boyfriend, he doesn't love you. He would've found you by now if he did. He doesn't love you. Your team doesn't care for you. It's been a month. You mean nothing to them, you hear me?"

There was another fist that came down across her face ... and another ... and another until everything went black and she could no longer beg for him to let her go.

"Come on," Spencer says. "Let's go lay down. Maybe you'll get some sleep.

Doubtful, but she doesn't say it out loud.

He leads her down the hall to her bedroom. He helps her under the covers before he curls up around her, almost like he wants to keep her safe from everything.

(Y/N) meets Spencer's eyes as they intertwine their legs together under the blankets. She buries her face into his neck and sighs. He smells like his body wash so he must've taken a shower recently.

Spencer wraps his arms around her shoulders and just holds her. His fingers run through her hair.

"I love you too, by the way," she whispers after a few moments of silence. "Thank you for finding me."

"I'll always find you."

He had been gone for a while. Nearly two days without food and water. (Y/N) grew weaker. She could barely hold her head up. She didn't know how much longer she could stay awake.

She had to. She had to stay awake. Falling asleep wasn't an option.

There was a boom above her and what sounded like footsteps seconds later.

"Help," she croaked. No one would be able to hear her. Not with how weak her voice was. "Help me."

A door opened and light flooded the room. "FBI!" a very familiar voice called out. "Don't move."

"(Y/N), baby," another voice said, panic laced in his voice.

With the last of her strength, she was able to lift her head up. She let out a sob when she realized that it was Spencer Reid and the BAU who stood in front of her.

It wasn't her captor.

"Spencer." Her voice came out as a whisper.

"I got you. You're okay," he said, breathless. Her head fell and her eyes drooped. Spencer caught her head and lifted it so she could look at him. "Baby, stay awake for me, okay? There's an ambulance outside but you need to stay awake."

The last thing she heard before she fell unconscious was "I love you. I'm sorry it took us so long."

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