#and every time i try to get away from them THEY CALL THE COPS AND LIE ABOUT ME HAVING A PLAN TO KILL MYSELF LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiderwriter · 15 days

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hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were.

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized.

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight.

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-”

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.”

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot.

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans.

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.”

“Turn around.”

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day.

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist.

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.”

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest.

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him).

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all.

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you.

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life.

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention.

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet.

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-”

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.”

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on.

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter.

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question.

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?”

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?”

xxxxx

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance.

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime.

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character.

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave.

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view.

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair.

A girl could dream.

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.”

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw.

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?”

“I don't hit women.”

“And I do? Emily, wha-”

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame.

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door.

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?”

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.”

“You make a good point, shall we begin?”

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?”

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it.

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane.

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head.

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight but not bruising yet.

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?”

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs.

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.”

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.”

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention.

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little.

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints.

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again.

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow.

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes.

“Y/N, put it down.”

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab.

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.”

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward.

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged.

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat.

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun.

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning.

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?”

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat.

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back.

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.”

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties.

“I can tell.”

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute.

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.”

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach.

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.”

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better.

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers.

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun.

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.”

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you.

“Yes, yes, please touch me.”

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue.

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table.

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy.

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure.

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you.

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.”

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window.

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path.

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…”

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free.

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick.

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple.

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.”

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release.

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him.

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.”

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged.

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting.

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls.

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair.

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-”

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.”

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms.

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

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Update on the French protests: we've had a well-known expert in contemporary political history call the situation we're in "the worst democracy crisis France has known since [the end of the 4th Republic]" and meanwhile the government is trying its hardest to maintain a façade of normal functioning by a) hiding from protesters, b) hiding protesters from view, and c) banning saucepans and other means of drawing attention to the protests that are being swept under the rug.

I mean casserolades are an old tradition in this country but they wouldn't have been needed if Macron &co hadn't started almost systematically banning protests in entire districts of the towns they visit and setting up police roadblocks to prevent peaceful protesters from going anywhere near them. (Too bad because these are the kinds of images the media get (these 2 are from Le Monde) when protesters get to talk to Macron <3) :

Protesters corralled away where they can be easily ignored started banging pots and pans so the protest could at least be heard in the background of TV footage, and then pans started being confiscated.

French courts have repeatedly struck down the bans as illegal but police prefects keep churning new bans out every time Macron goes somewhere anyway, trying to publish them at the last minute so there's no time for a judicial review. (I saw a sign at a protest last week that went "Stop with all the bans we no longer have time to disobey all of them")

After boldly banning saucepans by calling them "portable sonorous devices" last week, today a police prefecture banned "festive gatherings of a musical nature" in a town Macron will be visiting tomorrow. They're (ab)using counter-terrorist legislation for all this, so these days we get to read unheard-of court rulings that go like "We are suspending this prefectural decree as we do not consider festive gatherings of a musical nature to pose a significant terrorist threat to the President."

If Macron had people showing up in support I don't think we would see so many pissy protest bans because then the media could show backers vs. opponents and things would look normal (and not like 70% of the country is very pissed off with Macron). But there's not much for them to show if they don't show the angry people banging pans and it clearly rankles Macron—we learnt yesterday that he sent a letter to 200,000 political supporters of his essentially ordering them to start making appearances all over the country, to show they are "proud of what you are and of what our country has become [since I got elected]." That seems a bit desperate.

For months Macron &co have been predicting that people would get tired of taking to the streets in large numbers, and now that people are going like—right, let's try a new strategy, small local protests greeting gov members everywhere they go!—we're hearing a clear "no not like that, that's not what we meant :l " reaction from the government.

They've also been trying the strategy of announcing stuff at the last minute, like on Monday the Minister of Education announced at noon that he would visit a higher learning institution in Lyon 2 hours later, and a hundred of protesters still showed up and tried to force their way into the building. They were held off by cops using tear gas and trying to block entrances (there's a pic that made me smile, showing cops trying to barricade university gates with garbage bins—how the tables have turned...!) and the Minister ended up not showing up and moving on to the next step of his schedule (protesters tried to follow him there but police vans were blocking the street.)

The first half of the video is at the uni in Lyon; the second half is in Paris later that day. When he returned to Paris the Minister was greeted by protesters with saucepans at the train station, it's like a national relay race of protesting at times. He had to go back through the train to leave via the other end of the platform under police escort so as not to meet any protesters (god forbid).

Macron commented that this was "uncivic" behaviour and I agree, civic behaviour on the part of gov members would be to at least face the people they choose to fuck over, instead of hiding behind cops and fleeing. Obviously Macron was condemning the 'uncivic' protesters though, and the Minister said he felt "physically threatened" by the "violence of [the protesters'] speech" which is a shit thing to say considering on the same day that he was mildly inconvenienced by having to take a different exit and felt physically endangered by words, yet another protester was mutilated after being shot at by police with a rubber bullet. Not a peep about this incident (or previous ones) from the government. The Minister of Education never even condemned that time high schoolers trying to protest got tear gassed and threatened with riot guns by cops in front of their school earlier this month.

But while people continue protesting despite the actual violence from cops, our ministers are looking pretty scared of citizens banging pots and pans. Here's a list of official visits that got cancelled "for safety reasons" (saucepan terrorism) in the past week:

1. Minister P. NDiaye cancelled a visit in Lyon 2. Minister F. Braun cancelled a visit to Evrard Hospital 3. Minister Delegate O. Klein cancelled a visit in Bobigny 4. Minister Delegate O. Grégoire cancelled a visit in La Baule 5. Minister S. Guerini cancelled a visit in Castelnau 6. Secretary of State B. Couillard cancelled a visit in Rochefort 7. Minister S. Retailleau cancelled a visit to the Paris Saclay University (electricity trade unionists cut the power in the building she was supposed to inaugurate, so) 8. Minister C. Grandjean cancelled a visit in Toulouse (this article says it was probably because the visit was quite near a big highway protest where protesters among other things were building a concrete wall on a national road)

In the same bullshitting vein as "portable sonorous devices", gov spokespeople have been insisting that visits aren't being cancelled, ministers are just "adjusting the course of their trips" which is funny to me. I guess we never beheaded any royalty we just adjusted the course of their necks. I also read a newspaper article that made me laugh, that went like "Minister cancels visit; trade unions disappointed" and I thought it was because the cancelled visit was a meeting with the unions which they wouldn't get to have, but the article said it was actually because they had a good protest planned and wouldn't get to hold it...

Watching protesters mess with the government in small ways on a daily basis has been good for morale—on Twitter the hashtags #IntervillesMacron and #IntervillesduZbeul popped up (zbeul = chaos, mess, and Intervilles was a TV game show that aired for over 50 years, where French cities competed against one another in goofy challenges). I only mentioned cancellations above, but fun things also happen on non-cancelled government visits, like a Minister having to leave a building via the emergency exit because of protesters blocking the building entrance (which some people argued is worth more points than a cancellation as it's more entertaining):

Various websites were created to keep track of all these smaller protests and to officialise the point system that ranks cities on their efforts to fuck with the government:

(the first symbol means a protest, the second means a casserolade, the last one means protesters managed to get inside a building where a visit was taking place)

(Translation: Ruckus (saucepans, heckling...) 1pt Protest: 1pt Creative action (chasing minister in the woods, etc): 2pts Measures of energy conservation (= power cuts by unions) 3pts Action that leads to a political figure fleeing: 4pts Cancellation of a visit: 5pts — then there's a weighting system where the score is multiplied by 3 if it's a Minister, by 5 if it's the Prime Minister, by 6 if it's Macron.) (I also saw an interesting debate on Twitter this week—since our leaders often embarrass themselves, how should the government's own goals fit into the point system?)

Right now the Hérault department is winning because on top of protests, power cuts and casserolades, protesters greeted Macron with a giant "MACRON FUCK OFF" sign hung from a cliff (!) and took over a highway display so it'd say "Welcome to [region] Butthole Ist"

These past few days I've been discovering unknown French cities (and Ministers) thanks to them showing up in the hashtag after a good protest. I discovered a mediaeval castle I'd never heard of when unions hung banners featuring our most famous revolutionary dates from the castle's battlements. (Two days later, another protest with eloquent banners in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris:)

People are very creative—last week we heard that protesters got prosecuted for giving Macron the finger and insulting him during one of his official visits (< we are a healthy democracy), so protesters in another region tried a more sarcastic approach, and greeted a deputy from Macron's party at a strawberry fair this week with clapping and confetti and "Thank you for making us work 2 more years, thank you for police repression, thank you!" The deputy beat a hasty retreat. Then said he would file a complaint against the harassment and intimidation he had been subjected to. (The tear gas and riot guns and arrests and protest bans are not intimidation of protesters on the other hand. Or the fact that another deputy from his party recently said on TV that they were "ready for war"... They're ready to wage war, but run and hide when people clang saucepans and throw confetti.)

Anyway. I'm enjoying the fact that they can't even attend a small strawberry fair without getting heckled right now. In one of my first posts about the political crisis in March I wrote something like "How will Macron and his gov have any legitimacy to speak about any issues after this?" and it cheers me up to see a lot of people across the country agree that they have no legitimacy to talk about anything, not even the strawberry harvest.

The next nationwide protest is of course for May 1st, but in the meantime it's been really fun following the smaller protest actions all over the place. Members of government & Macron's party keep making whiny statements along the lines of this is terrorist behaviour, we can't go anywhere, why are people not getting tired of fucking with us and the answer is, because it's really entertaining!

This was the last sentence of a recent Le Monde article about Macron's situation and it has such a sinister, end-of-reign tone:

"I'm moving forward," Macron concluded, on April 20th in the Herault department, while behind his back echoed the sound of saucepans.

#frpol #well this is another very long post and it features maybe 40% of all the shit from the past week #like there was another popular hashtag last week that went ''no retraction [of the reform] no olympic games''#and the police prefect of Paris said ''the closer we get to the Olympics the more we will saturate public space with police''#okay! good atmosphere so far

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jaeyunverse · 6 months

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kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school.

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up.

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush.

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to.

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend.

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal.

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed.

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high.

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date.

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.”

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along.

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?”

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.”

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.”

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.”

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.”

You snorted. “No.”

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight.

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.”

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?”

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe.

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm.

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions.

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.”

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?”

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected.

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes.

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium.

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead.

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air.

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her.

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said.

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.”

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now.

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry.

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!”

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you.

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!”

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.”

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court.

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist.

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon.

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was.

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it.

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you.

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup.

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss.

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school.

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss.

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung.

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead.

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen.

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead.

You paused.

Looked at her.

Considered.

Raised an eyebrow.

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around.

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers.

“Hey,” he popped.

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.”

“No comment about the flowers?”

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.”

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.”

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh.

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.”

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?”

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked,

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?”

The game had ended twenty minutes ago.

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match.

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way.

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big.

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic.

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you.

[eunchae]: wya?

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him??

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand.

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?”

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.”

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?”

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again.

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious.

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now.

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen.

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.”

You snorted.

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.”

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you.

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours.

“You’re blushing,” he whispered.

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?”

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?”

“I can do CPR.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you.

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident.

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love.

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.”

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do.

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists.

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side.

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.”

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—”

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.”

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!”

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!”

“Why?!”

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!”

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!”

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.”

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?”

“I can ditch them.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember.

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.”

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.

1K notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible address in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

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storiesfromafan · 3 months

Text

Dance Class 101

A/N: I come baring more fruits of my labor haha. Or rather this was a silly story I started a new nights ago after 11pm. It just spiraled from there.

Might do a part two. See what happens.

Also, forgive some of the informal wording. I blame being Australian lol.

Pairing: Mattheo x Slytherin Fem!Reader (more pining?)

They say school is meant to be a fun experience, learning new and usually useful things. And in any other House in Hogwarts, that would be the case. Unfortunately, for Slytherin fun was not a word Professor Snape knew, or rather despised, squashing all light in any room he was in. Currently in The Great Hall, during the Slytherin’s scheduled time for dance practise for the upcoming Yule Ball.

All attending students in Hogwarts were expected to participate in dance classes. So here you were, with your group of misfits. As your house all took seats around Professor Snape, who looked to be out of his comfort zone, you couldn’t miss those around you whispering to each other. Which was shortly lived when Snape ordered silence. Of course, everyone shut their mouths and sat up straight.

“Firstly, I detest that I have to teach you all to dance” Snape began, his voice sharp with authority. “But you all need to have some sort of formal etiquette for a ball. So, I am…forced to instruct you”. Ah, how that must have hurt to say.

There were sniggers and giggles at Snape’s words, which he called for silence again and got it quick smart.

“Secondly, I will remind each and every one of you that you will be representing Slytherin at The Yule Ball. So, I do not wish to hear of any of you acting in any way to lower our House” Snape stood proudly and rolled his sharp gaze over every student. “You are Slytherin. We are a proud house, do not sully it”.

Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo; whom were all sitting before you, started to snicker. Which you stopped with a slap to each of the back of their heads, just like any mother. Mattheo turned back with a glare, to which you smiled at before gesturing for him to turn back around and focusing on Snape.

Back to the lesson at hand; dancing 101. The girls rather giddy, the boys wanting to run from the room. Snape uncomfortable. And the female Professor being his dance partner wishing she had done something better with her career. All in all, this was to be some kind of afternoon. Starting off with two Professor’s stiffly demonstrating The Waltz. How the student population bearing witness to the scene before them kept themselves in check was a mystery. Alright, not entirely a mystery but more not wanting to cop Snape’s wrath for laughing. Plain and simple.

Finally, it came time for the observers to move to practical. Reluctantly all students rose from their seats, shuffling about and pairing up awkwardly. You stood looking around the room trying to pick out a dance partner. You didn’t want anyone who was handsy or flirty, nor did you want someone who has two left feet.

“Looking for me?” asked an all too familiar cocky voice behind you.

Turning around you found Mattheo standing there confidently. Oh, you will enjoy knocking him down a peg.

“Oh no” you replied off handedly, “I’m looking for a less pompous ass to dance with”.

He shot you a glare.

“Then you must be looking for me?” Questioned Theodore stepping up and slapping Mattheo on the shoulder. “Sorry mate”.

You looked to Theodore with a blank look. “Sorry, nor am I looking for his partner in pompousness either”.

Mattheo laughed shoving Theodore. “Tough luck, mate”.

Theodore shot his friend a dark look. “Hey, at least I didn’t get rejected first”.

That sobered Mattheo, and both boys glared at the other before turning back to you.

Thankfully that was the moment Lorenzo stepped in and swept you away. “Sorry lads, she was waiting for me”.

You laughed as Lorenzo twirled you both around. Alright, he won. “To be clear I wasn’t waiting for Lorenzo, but with that save, he has earned his place as my dance partner. Sorry”.

Lorenzo laughed as both Mattheo and Theodore shoved the other before shuffling off to find other partners. Which wouldn’t be hard. Every girl in this school would give their soul to get close to Mattheo, he was the Slytherin heart throb after all. And Theodore had his own club of fans too. So, they would be fine.

But a part of you regretted rejecting Mattheo. Blame the two-year crush on the curly mop head, who had just partnered up with Daphne Greengrass. The way she smiled at him as she placed her hand on his shoulder while he stepped closer, it made you sick to your stomach. Not to mention your blood boiling when she laughed at something Mattheo said.

“What are you growling at?” Questioned Lorenzo, before turning you both to see what held your attention. “Ah, I see”.

“Ah, I see? You see nothing” you retorted defiantly, turning away from the nauseating and infuriating scene.

Lorenzo shot you a knowing look. “Please (Y/N/N), I’m not stupid. I’ve known about your affections probably before you even came to terms with them” he chuckled, while you pouted.

“I repeat, you see nothing. End of story”.

Lorenzo spun you around, making you see the pair across from you both, before turning you away again. “It’s alright, I am not offended I’m not the eye of your desire” he poked your side. “But Theodore owes me a butterbeer”.

You swatted Lorenzo’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare say a word! Ah, of nothing that isn’t true” you sputtered, attempting to deny your crush.

Lorenzo brought you close. “Your secret is safe with me (Y/N/N). Mum’s the word”.

You one hundred and ten percent believed Lorenzo. Out of the three, he was more the voice of reason. While Mattheo and Theodore were Dumb and Dumber. But to be clear, you did not think them dumb, far from it for they could be evil geniuses if they applied themselves. They were goof balls that didn’t always read a person before opening their mouths.

Once everyone was paired up, Snape called for attention once more. Taking the proper stance with the female Professor, Snape instructed all students to do the same. Lorenzo stood comically tall, with a snooty look on his face while holding out his left hand out to you. Following his lead, you mirrored his stance and look, before dramatically placing your right hand in his. He then placed his right hand on your waist, pulling you closer forcefully. You couldn’t help it; a snigger came from your lips as you placed your left hand on his shoulder. Yes, Lorenzo was the smart choice. Laughter was the best way to forget about Mattheo and Daphne.

While you were having fun in Snape’s dreary presence, Mattheo was watching every moment just now. A wave of jealousy washing over him as Lorenzo pulled you close and received a snigger. Sure, he could see you were both goofing off. But he hated it wasn’t him you were having fun with.

Mattheo acted aloof, and teased you, but it was to hide the feelings the boy had for you. Out of all the girls in the school, you were the first one to become his friend. Never flirting or going shy. Being your unapologetic self through and through.

The friendship he had with you was what made it hard to have feelings for you. Your friendship was something he treasured, and he didn’t want to ruin it. For if he lost you, Mattheo would be devastated. But he also disliked seeing his two mates’ taking your attention away from him and having fun without him.

“Hey, Snape’s talking” Daphne whispered, drawing Mattheo’s attention from you and Lorenzo.

Snape proceeded to instruct and show you all the basic steps for The Waltz.

“Male’s lead. Starting with your left foot, you are going to step forward” Snape began. “Females follow. Starting with your right foot, you are going to step back”.

All students followed Snape’s instruction. This is where many partners learned that the person, they paired up with couldn’t tell left from right, forward and backwards. Which lead to some soft laughter and angry comments.

You and Lorenzo didn’t need to worry. Both of you were coordinated. Comically, but smooth, you did as instructed. As well was Mattheo and Daphne.

“Next” Snape commanded, silence fell once more. “Males, bring you right foot forward and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right. Females, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close with right foot next to your left”. Snape of course demonstrated this movement for everyone.

Once again, coordination was a flower that didn’t grow in many gardens. While you and Lorenzo were flawless. Along with Mattheo and Daphne. Finally, everyone was at the same step.

“Male’s, step back with your right foot. Females, step forward with your left foot” Snape instructed doing as he said. “Males, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close your right foot next to your left. Females, step forward with your right foot and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right”.

Once more everyone followed the instruction and demonstration. Happy to report, this time there were more coordinated students. You followed Lorenzo’s lead, and once more you were both flawless in your movements, prompting you both to smile at the other. Mattheo and Daphne not far behind you both, just as flawless.

Snape pulled away from the female Professor, like he was slightly burned by a flame. “That is the basic steps for The Waltz. I will now give you time to practice the steps together before music is introduced, and we work on timing to tempo”.

Both you and Lorenzo chuckled at Snape, before getting back to the task at hand. Taking position, you both did the step’s Snape had instructed. Once the first square was done, you both continued. Eventually feeling comfortable with the steps, the snooty comical sides came back. Dramatically doing the steps. And soon you had a small audience of the students around you. They laughed and softly cheered. With the final steps to close off the square, Lorenzo spun you out and you both theatrically bowed and curtsied.

“(Y/L/N) and Berkshire!” Called Snape. “Knock off the nonsense”.

You both quickly moved back into position and went back to dancing properly. Neither wanting to face the wrath of Snape. But flashing each other a smile, you enjoyed the silliness.

“Real smooth, getting on Snape’s radar” Theodore commented, moving closer to you both. “Best to stop the shenanigans”.

“Oh? Jealous Nott?” Lorenzo asked with a smirk.

Theodore laughed. “Far from it mate. I don’t want Snape on my case”.

He was right. No one ever wants to be on Snape’s bad side. So silently you and Lorenza agree to pull back on the silliness and take it all a bit more seriously. But it was so hard when this type of dance was boring, and so would the music.

After some time, Snape brought attention back to him, and proceeded to teach the next part. And let’s just say you thought many of the students lacked coordination before, it was ten times worse when music was introduced. Yet in yours and Lorenzo’s case, you both weren’t too bad. At first there was some miss timed steps and even stepping on his foot, but after the first square, you both got smoother and flowed nicely. Even getting praise from Snape.

Unfortunately for Mattheo, his partner took longer to grasp timing with music. And not to mention the amount of times Daphne stepped on his feet. Yes, she managed to step on both multiple times. Eventually she got better, but not quick enough before Snape called an end to dance class. Many students sighed and silently thanked who ever had been listening to their pleas.

Walking out of The Great Hall, you and the three boys headed for the nearby courtyard to relax after an eventful dance lesson. Lounging around under a tree you all recalled moments of the class, from the good, the bad and the tragic.

“I don’t know how that woman could have danced with Snape” mused Theodore. “He’s so wound tight”, he proceeded to sit up stiffly, making you all laugh.

“Bet she’s rethinking her career choice” mused Lorenzo, again making you all laugh.

“I gotta know, what was it like dancing with Daphne?” Questioned Theodore lighting a cigarette. “No doubt you made her day, as she has the biggest crush on you”.

You tensed at the question, and Lorenzo saw it. He gave you a soft look, showing his concern. But you just gave him a small, sad smile.

“It was alright, I guess” replied Mattheo, not noting your silent conversation with your friend. “She’s not that graceful, my feet are witnesses to that”. He laughed shaking his head. “But she wasn’t bad to be with”.

You all joined him in laughter, only yours not as strong as your companions. That last sentence he spoke hit you. Could Mattheo like Daphne? Surely not, she was lack-lustre compared to other girls.

“You going to ask her to The Yule Ball?” Lorenzo asked, side glancing you to gauge your reaction. He wasn’t doing it to hurt you, he wanted you to know if you should get your hopes up or not.

Mattheo snatched the cigarette from Theodore while thinking over the question. Did he want to ask Daphne to The Yule Ball? No. Did he want to ask you? Yes. But the two parts of him were at war. He wanted to ask you, take you because your company was all he needed. But then, the other part of him said you probably wouldn’t go with him, you’d want to go with someone else. Someone you fancied.

“Maybe…” Mattheo thought taking a drag of the cigarette. “See what happens”.

Theodore laughed. “Don’t wait too long to ask her, or any girl really”.

Now it was you who laughed. “Oh please Theo. Any girl who is asked by either of you would say yes. They would even dump their date to go with any of you”.

It was true. You knew from all the gossiping girls; they have all said it at some point. They would dump their date, even their boyfriend for any of your three friends. And you had a front row seat to watch Mattheo with some other girl. You wish you could say it didn’t bother you, but that would be lying. For every flirtation, every flavour of the month killed you to bear witness too.

Theodore scoffed. “You sound jealous my dear (Y/N/N)”.

You laughed dryly. “Oh please. Me? Jealous of you lot? Ah, no”.

“I think you are” retorted Theodore sitting up straight. “Jealous we’ll have hot dates, while you will end up with someone lower on the food chain, or no date at all”.

Both Theodore and Mattheo laughed, though Mattheo’s was forced and to hide his true feelings. Which was his dislike for his friends’ words.

You felt anger rise in you from Theodore’s words, your cheeks flushing in annoyance. Deciding it was best to remove yourself, you got up from your spot and straightened out your uniform.

“I find your words to be hurtful and callous. So, what if my date end’s up being less than any of you? Does that diminish their worth? What makes you an excellent judge on that?” you retorted with slight venom. “And if I was to go dateless, what about it? It’s not mandatory to have a date”.

Theodore looked up to you, a smirk on his face. “No, it is not mandatory. But people would look at you like you’re pathetic, practically a leper. Am I right Mattheo?”

Your nostrils flared from Theodore’s brazen words, before your heated gaze was on the mentioned boy. You watched Mattheo closely, silently hoping he would disagree with Theodore. That he would stand up for you.

Mattheo swallowed. He knew this was it. “Sorry (Y/N/N), Theo’s got a point”.

As the words rolled off his tongue, each word scorching the appendage, did Mattheo regret those words. He hated himself. And the hurt look you gave him just about killed him. He was about to correct himself before you said your goodbyes and took off.

“Good job idiots” Lorenzo sighed throwing a rock at both his friends, before taking off after you.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

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st6rrrs · 3 months

Text

TRAITOR || rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: the pogues find out yn's secret

warnings: cursing, arguing, soft rafe!!!, fluff?

a/n: idk if i should keep this into to a one shot or make a story!!!!

Part 2

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

you and rafe were in his bed talking when you realized what time it was, 5:29pm

"Shit rafe i gotta go" you said

you jumped off of the bed and quickly put your clothes on

"where are you going?" he asked getting off the bed also

"i gotta go to the chateau to meet up with the pogues"

he groaned.

you grab your backpack and head to the door but before you could open it rafe got in front of you.

"do you have to leave" rafe whines

"yes rafe, i'll be back in a couple of hours" you say

"fine" he groans again but louder this time, he walks back to the bed laying on it getting his phone out, you roll your eyes and exit the room.

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

you get on your bike and start pedaling towards the cut.

you and rafe have been dating for a couple of months now but you guys haven't told anyone yet. if the pogues find out that you and rafe have been dating they would be PISSED

thats one of the reasons you dont wanna go public, rafe honestly doesn't give a shit if anyone finds out because he will still love you and you would still love him.

you arrive at the chateau and you see the pogues on the front porch, Sarah was sitting next to john b? why was Sarah here?

kie disliked Sarah for as long as you can remember. When kie and Sarah were friends Sarah threw this party without inviting kie and kie got mad and called the cops.

"you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought her."

you hear kie say as you approach them

"stop talking about me like im not here" Sarah says

"then leave."

"umm whats happening?" you mouth to pope and jj passing kie, Sarah, and john b them to busy arguing to notice you. You walk over to sit in between jj and pope.

"john b is banging Sarah" jj says while laughing

"WHAT" you almost yell

"oh look y/n is here, why dont we ask her opinion is on this" kie says

"please don't" you whine "but if im being honest i dont think its a good idea"

Sarah's scoffs

"oh you can talk" she says looking at you

"what?" you laugh

"like you aren't fucking my brother" she says rolling her eyes and looking away

you immediately go pale.

"is that true y/n?" kie ask you in disbelief

you don't answer her

jj gets up from beside you and just looks at you in disbelief. you look over at pope his hand on his forehead and he's shaking his head disappointed.

"you cant be fucking serious!" jj yells at you "he beat up pope with a golf club and then jumped us with topper and kelce"

jj has had a crush on you ever since you guys were 14 but you didn't feel the same way. Everyone always shipped you guys together but you wouldn't force yourself to date someone you didn't like You only liked jj as a friend but he never really listened to you.

"i-i-im sorry!! but he's different with me" you try to explain to them

"hes just gonna use you like he does every other girl on this island" Sarah says

"no he-" but before you could finish your sentence pope interrupted you

"just leave y/n." he said annoyed not looking at you

"g-guys please!"

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE JEEZ!" jj yells at you, you have never seen him this angry in the whole 7 years you knew him.

tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at him. He had no remorse for what he said he was very angry and you could understand why but none of them even gave you a chance to explain yourself. You quickly grabbed your bag pack and left without looking back.

"AND DONT BOTHER COMING BACK EITHER! HAVE FUN WITH YOUR KOOKY BOYFRIEND" jj yelled before you could leave

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ' -

you open the front door to the camerons household, rafe gave you the key when you guys started dating. the house was so quite and cold, you walk up the stairs to rafe room still sobbing.

you open his room door and hes sleep on his bed, it was sometime pass 7 you didn't want to wake him and you were exhausted yourself so you just laid next to him and got under the covers still sobbing quietly. you couldn't believe that jj would ever say that too you, it wasn't like him

you hear rafe groan awake

"y/n is that you" he says in his sleepy voice

"yea"

"are you crying?"

"im fine go back to sleep rafe."

"no.,whats wrong come here" he gestured so you could lay on his chest

you gave in and sobbed in his chest for a while until you fell asleep.

part 2?

this might be bad but i tried 😪 👍🏻

taglist:

@bbsxsaa @xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @drewstarkeyslut @stvrkey. @blondbrat @sevenwivesofrafecameron @tracymbcm

#rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #this is bad

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promptful · 2 years

Text

70 Taunting Enemies Prompts

Remember, requests are open.

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, CURSING, MENTION OF BLOOD. MENTION OF A GUN.

DIALOGUE:

TAUNTER:

1) “Is that really all you got?”

2) “Come on, you can do better than that.”

3) “I’m not even sweating yet.”

4) “Think I broke more of a sweat petting my cat than I did fighting you.”

5) “I’m sure you can hit me if you try hard enough. I believe in you.”

6) “So close.”

7) “You’re… boring me.”

8) “I expected more.”

9) “Why couldn’t the cops deal with you?”

10) “Oh, no.” (said really sarcastically)

11) “I’m sooo scared.”

12) “Honestly, if you weren’t threatening actual lives, you’d be more of a nuisance, really.”

13) “This is what I was called for? You?”

14) “What… is this?”

15) “Do you want me to slow down for you?”

16) “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you get a hit in.”

17) “This is stupid. Goodnight.”

18) “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be good enough to beat me one day.”

19) “Come and get it.”

20) “That actually hurt. Wow.”

21) “Compared to my usual crowd, you’re nothing.”

22) “Get out of my way.”

23) “Move.”

24) “Having fun?”

25) “Aw, you’re not hurt already, are you?”

26) “I was just playing. Surely you can take more.”

27) “Oh my, is that blood? Just from that?”

RESPONDING

28) “You have to get through me!”

29) “Shut up!”

30) “I can keep going.”

31) “This— this is nothing.”

32) “I’ll make you regret saying that!”

33) “Then let me make this a little more challenging!”

34) “Of course it hurts, dipshit.”

35) “You should be scared.”

36) “Stop— stop taunting me!”

37) “Fun? Fun? Don’t insult me.”

38) “I’ll show you better!”

39) “I can’t stand you.”

40) “Get out of my way!”

41) “Over my dead body!”

42) “I won’t let you get to them.”

43) “I’ll make sure you can’t hurt anybody else.”

44) “Over my grave, you bastard.”

45) “Dammit, all right, here we go!”

46) “I’ll take you down if it’s the last thing I do.”

47) “If I can’t take you down, I will never forgive myself.”

48) “Try and move me, I dare you!”

49) “You’re gonna regret that!”

50) “You want to see what I can do?”

51) “You’re nothing.”

52) “Keep taunting me and see what happens.”

53) “I’ll give you one chance, walk away.”

54) “Fine, I guess we’re doing this.”

55) “Y’know, talking during fighting isn’t very professional!”

SCENARIOS

56) You have a stupid smirk on your face, and I’m just trying to be serious. Why are you like this? Can we fight already?

57) Why are you taunting me? Stop— stop dancing. We’re in the middle of a fight.

58) When the cops/superhero/my friend told me what you were doing, I wanted to stay in bed. And now that I’m here, I’m thinking that maybe I should have.

59) Is that bomb fake or real. I can never tell with you.

60) I’m bleeding from your knife/kicks/punches, but I’m not gonna stop fighting until you’re finally taken down.

61) Every time you taunt me, I see red, and you know this. I should be stronger, but I’m not.

62) I won’t let you hurt the people I love. Not while I’m still breathing.

63) You notice that I’m breathing heavy, and you just keep smirking. I— I can keep going. I can.

64) We used to be friends, what happened to us? Why do we always have to fight?

65) If you’d just put that gun/remote/knife, we could go home, y’know? We don’t have to keep fighting.

66) You’re not fighting like you used to, what happened?

67) This is pathetic and a waste of my time, you’re in my way.

68) You’ve gotten weaker, I can’t help but let a smirk cross my lips, this is almost… funny.

You stumble against the wall with half-lidded eyes. It’d be so easy to just stroll by you, but for some reason, I can’t help but keep taunting you.

69) You hate me. I hate you. Yet, taunting you is one of my favorite things to do.

#writing prompt #otp prompts #prompt list #story prompt #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #rp starters #dialogue prompt #fanfiction prompts #writeblr #writing ideas #creative writing #writing inspiration #writer things #writers of tumblr #writing #story ideas #prompt #p.

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fettuccin-e · 1 year

Text

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.”

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach.

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour.

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat.

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing.

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader oh yea #steddie x reader #steddie x you #poly!steddie #stranger things smut

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urrockstar-xe · 4 months

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if u leave me - j.m x fem!reader

posted jan 4th, 2024 2:08 pm

anon asked: hii can I request a fluffy jj x fem reader fic inspired by the song if you leave me by niall horan? thank u!

this was so cute omg. I'm so sorry for the long wait but thank u for requesting<3 again so so sorry abt the wait

summary; jj can imagine life without you, which is how he knows he'd be miserable.

masterlist

word count: 1.7k

It was all so innocent

Well okay,

You did steal something from the store but! In your defense, it was not something the cops should be chasing you for!

That didn’t stop them though.

So suppose you shouldn’t be that surprised now as you ran down the road, just barely stopping yourself before you rain head first into JJ Maybank.

JJ was walking out of a store when you were suddenly two inches away from him, you knew each other of course. Both born and raised on the cut, both having some sort of reputation around the OuterBanks.

Both known by their first names by all of Kildare’s Sheriff’s Department.

“Oh shit” JJ muttered to himself once he realized who you were running from, watching as you laughed and then continued running.

“Maybank! Should’ve known you were involved!” JJ turned his head towards the voice of one of the officers. “I knew I smelt bacon somewhere!” He called back, not quite getting the amused reaction he was aiming for before JJ turned back in the direction you ran, following after you.

Your accidental partner in crime.

You don’t what point you both had lost them but as you hid behind some old shack, all that was heard was out-of-breath giggles from the both of you, catching his breath JJ finally asked

“What’d you even take?”

Another round of laughter was triggered after he watched you pull the small tube of pink lipgloss from your pocket.

Something shifted that day, an actual friendship blossoming after the chase, dragging each other to parties, JJ picking you up from work on his motorbike, Spending most nights on the old trampoline in your backyard or in John B’s old hammock.

“I don’t think I trust this thing to hold the both of us,” You remarked once, laughing as JJ pulled you into his arms anyway. “Do you trust me?” he asked, a smirk on his lips as you settled into his side.

“No”

That landed both of you in the grass after JJ pushed you off, not expecting you to pull him down on top of you. You both lay there, the sweet laugh falling from your lips as JJ shook his head, smiling down at you as he held himself up with his hands. Before you had time to react the feeling of JJ’s lips on yours flooded your senses, hands flying to his hair while almost desperately kissing back.

It’s getting repetitive how all but a handful of your memories together result in giggle fits

and soft kisses.

speaking of handfuls though.

You and JJ never had an official label, not at first. You assumed of course that it was JJ’s choice, if he wanted you to be his girlfriend he would’ve asked, right? And he hadn't, it’s free game.

Especially when every time you looked over at JJ tonight, he was cozying up with some tourie and he has been the entire party.

It's your turn.

So, naturally, you shoved down any envy over the pretty girl next to your JJ and found yourself a kook. It’s not that you were trying to tick off JJ, really! You weren't!

But if you had been trying to tick off JJ, what better way to do it than with a kook?

It was a matter of minutes, you had barely learned the kid’s name before JJ showed up behind him tapping his shoulder. You didn’t need to know JJ Maybank personally to know what his plan was as Jacob previously mentioned Kook turned to look at him.

“You can fuck off man, she doesn’t need you to save her and take her to the dark side,” JJ said, his words with sarcasm as he got closer to Jacob, too close. John B’s attention was shifted to the situation JJ was starting from Kiara pulling on his sleeve and pointing, Pope and JB both moving forward slightly, just to pull JJ off or help if needed.

“Oh, you’re scared she’s gonna run off with someone worth it huh?” Jacob argued, earning your attention as you went to cut in and argue with him yourself but you were quickly cut off by the sound of JJ’s fist colliding with Jacob’s jaw.

The night ended with you cleaning JJ’s bloody knuckles in John B’s bathroom.

“He was wrong” You muttered, gently wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What?” JJ’s gaze was soft as it landed on you, having previously been too occupied staring at the floor to give you so much as a glance.

“Jacob was wrong-” JJ rolled his eyes, scoffing quietly, cutting you off in doing so. “Jacob? You remember his name?” “JJ will you just shut up for a second and listen to me please?” You all but got on your knees as you begged him to just listen.

Finally, his eyes met yours, sliding himself off of the small bathroom counter so he was directly in front of you, hands going to your forearms and rubbing up to your shoulders in the comforting way he’d always do to you.

He had shut up now, allowing you to take a breath and settle your hands comfortably on either side of his waist. “JJ, you are worth it, and Jacob’s a piece of shit, and had you not thrown any hits I probably would have because you are the most worth it” You explained quietly, nearly whispering, allowing the small space between you two to be filled with soft breaths and your words.

And he kissed you again, with more feeling than ever before, and a silent promise of proving himself to be as worth it as you had known he was.

The summer before the big gold hunt had beaten any summer before it, and you failed in believing it wasn’t just JJ’s presence that made it so great.

You cheered for JJ as he tried to take on his biggest wave yet, watching as he instead crashed straight into the water you cautiously kept an eye on his flipped board before he came up from the water and flipped it upright, heading straight for you as you moved just slightly forward in the water so he wouldn’t have to swim so far.

JJ pouted as you took off your sunglasses, keeping a hand on his surfboard so it wouldn’t move away as he leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss on your lips, more for his comfort than yours.

“You almost had it, baby” You mumble against his mouth, before letting out a short squeal when JJ picked you up, hooking a hand under your knee to guide your legs around his waist as he looked up at you with a soft look that JJ always reserved for you.

“I’m gonna get it next time” he mumbled back, tilting his head back when you ran your fingers through his wet hair to get it out of his face. “Yeah, you will. And I’ll be waiting here with your victory kiss” You smile at him as he moves slightly, turning you with him as he tries to get the sun out of his eyes.

“It helps havin' my cheerleader here” He responded, matching your smile when you set your heart-shaped sunglasses over his eyes.

What would he do if you left him?

That’s all JJ could think about after that day, what if you just up and left? Leaving him behind to beg on his knees every day for the rest of his waiting for you to come back,

Hoping you’d come back.

It kept him up some nights.

How easy it could be for you and how hard it’d be for him.

But this particular night was one spent in your bed. He had come over only 4 hours earlier, around 10. Knocking on your window and wordlessly leaning into you when you asked how he got a black eye. He knew how you’d react, you hugged him with all your strength, smoothing comforting hands up and down his shirt and muttering sweet words into his shoulder. He knew that you’d know exactly why he came over.

He needed you.

And like always you were right there.

JJ had only managed to sleep for 3 hours, waking up in a cold sweat after a shitty dream. He distracted himself with the way you looked, sleeping peacefully beside him, the moonlight coming through your window hitting your face just right.

JJ was never one for really cuddling while he slept, he’d typically end up on one side of the bed, passed out laying on his stomach but somehow his arm always ended up across you, or his hand would be your back or stomach, no other part of him touching you but something touching you.

He reached for you even when he was sleeping.

But now, all he wanted was to be cuddled up next to you, on top of you, or sprawled across you, hugging you in any way he possibly could.

He really couldn’t help himself as he moved closer to your sleeping frame, carefully moving one of your legs and settling between them, laying his head on your chest.

JJ really hadn’t meant to wake you up but he couldn’t help but sigh with relief once he felt your hand in his hair, hearing the difference in how your heart was beating, typically it would bring a sense of pride at the thought and confirmation that he could still make your heart race.

You both lay there in silence, playing with JJ’s hair as he mindlessly toyed with the hem of your shirt.

“I think I’d lose my mind if you left me” JJ’s soft and tired whisper broke through the comfortable silence you had created. “What?” Your voice was just as quiet as if speaking any louder was forbidden.

“Just” He started, pausing to sniffle, “just promise you’ll stay this close okay?” He asked, words almost getting stuck in his throat.

“Baby-”

“I just don’t know who I’d be without you” He sniffled again, one of your hands moving to his cheek and gently caressing his. Although you couldn’t see his face you could still feel the tears hitting your chest through your shirt.

“JJ, my sweet love, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I’m right here with you.” You assured, feeling the soft kiss he left on your wrist as you continued running your thumb up and down his cheek.

“I could never leave you”

#jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank #outer banks x you #Spotify

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sugrhigh · 3 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #hockey au #neighbor au #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。APOLOGIES — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, post argument make-up, annoying shidou as always, reposting bc it got marked w a label the first time even tho it’s sfw

dating shidou is not easy, it takes maturity and patience and the will of god’s strongest soldier. in fact, most of the time, dating shidou means you’re constantly drifting in and out of being mad at him—which, right now, you’re quite mad.

“shidou ryusei, it is one am,” you glare, opening your door and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. he has a wolfish grin on his face—it’s cocky, and it widens as he stares you up and down in your little batman pajama pants. normally, you wouldn’t answer the door for someone you’re mad at, boyfriend or not, but shidou makes it hard to ignore with his incessant knocking.

you value your sleep—and more importantly, you value not being kicked from your apartment for noise complaints.

“aw, not the full government name,” he says slyly, and it only makes your blood pressure rise even more as you practically feel a vein pop.

“ryusei,” you warn. but he doesn’t pay attention, just as you expect. instead, he whistles lowly.

“i like the uniform. ‘s cute,” he cackles, eyeing the way your pants are hung a little lower on your hips from tossing around in bed, exposing a bit of skin that he drinks in shamelessly.

“thanks,” you say dryly, “they’re fuzzy and they were half off. now why are you here?”

“just visiting,” he shrugs.

“at one am?”

“it’s twelve fifty-two,” he corrects like he lives to defy you in every corner. and you bet he loves it—in fact, you know he’s positively enthused by the way your lips curl into a scowl and your eyes glare at him so fiercely. he stares down at the way your hips slant as your cross your arms, and he chuckles (which you think is almost passable as a giggle at the sheer giddiness.)

only shidou ryusei would be giddy from turning you halfway near homicidal, and only he would find the murderous glint in your eyes cute, wholesome.

“what do you want,” you say bluntly. he takes a step forward, and no matter how mad you are, you can’t help but stand painfully still as he leans closer, trying your damn hardest not to lean in when his hot breath fans over your face as he stares at you.

“your bed would be nice,” he hums, “preferably with you in it.”

he’s insufferable. everything he does and says makes you want to chuck bricks at his head and hope it fixes the loose wires he seems to have. but you don’t even get to finish saying, “fuck off, ryu—” before he cuts in.

“c’mon, don’t make me find a way in myself,” he curls his lips wickedly, like he’s got you in checkmate, like the cards have been in his favor all along as you play the game he’s written. but this time is different—this time, you’re determined not to let shidou take advantage of your weak heart through his rough and tough charms.

this time, you have a point to prove.

“i’m going to call the cops on you,” you threaten, “tell them i’m being harassed by a pink-haired freak.”

“i wouldn’t mind getting married in jail,” he grins, and you can practically make out the hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. it makes you want to slam the door in his face and go right back to bed. but that would only mean he’d go back to pounding on your door and singing your name, and you’re pretty sure you’re one more instance away from your neighbors collectively petitioning your eviction.

“i don’t want to marry you,” you hiss.

“don’t be like that,” he reaches to poke your cheek, “being inmates would be fun. we could give the officers a show as we fuck—”

“ryusei,” you hiss.

arguing with shidou always ends like this. he worms his way in and knocks down your walls without ever saying i’m sorry. he eases his way back into your heart with wide grins and cheeky comments and that charm of his that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. he never admits he’s wrong—but the way he tries harder the next time, makes sure he does it right, makes sure he’s better just for you, you know he cares. he never resolves things in the way you would consider the standard method of patching up after those unavoidable couple fights—but this time you decide it’s different.

this time your feelings are hurt—really hurt. the kind of hurt that makes you wonder if you’re annoying. or if you talk a lot. or if he even wants to be around you. or that maybe you tire him out. or that the sound of your voice is grating. or that you overstep boundaries.

this time there is no brushing the cracked shards of your heart under the rug and acting like he can kiss the pieces back together. this time you want to hear it from him—and if you have to stand at your door at ungodly hours of the morning and milk it out of him…well, you’re inclined to do that.

“c’mon, babe. are you gonna keep me out here all night? lemme in—”

“you’re not coming in until you apologize,” you say bluntly. he groans, throws his head back, and slaps his hands over his face as he grumbles into his palms.

“god, you’re killin’ me here. seriously, you know i didn’t mean it—”

“‘for fuck’s sake, i’m not your damn kid’,” you mock his voice from the other night, reminding him of his own words like he’s forgotten. he only stares at you with pursed lips and a blank face, but that doesn’t stop you, however, as you scowl at him and continue, “i don’t know. you seemed to really mean it when you said that.”

“i was just tired, you know that—”

“i was just trying to look out for you,” you don’t even seem like you’re listening to him anymore, poking a finger at his chest accusingly as he lets you, “i watch you sleep at unreasonable hours only to wake up before the sun itself—”

“yeah, and i told you i’d work on that—”

“and then i ask you, have you eaten today? and you know what you tell me? yeah, i had a protein shake this morning—”

“okay, and that was like one time—”

“and then i hear that you get into a fight, and lo and behold, you show up to my place with a bloody nose and cracked knuckles—”

“but you should’ve seen the other guy—”

“and then i come over to your apartment, and your laundry isn’t done, your dishes aren’t washed, and you have eighty million socks on the floor,” you start to put a finger up for everything you list, making him fiercely fight back a chuckle that he knows would seal his death wish, “and all i try to do is take care of you so that you can be healthy and play your best and what do you do? yell at me and tell me it’s not my responsibility to—”

you’re cut off by lips pressing onto yours harshly, the rough feeling of a calloused hand cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer. and maybe if you had a bit more self-respect, you would shove away the rude, ungrateful, irritating, tacky-haired douchebag of a boyfriend that stands in front of you, but you simply choose to lose all dignity when it counts most. you choose to give in, melt into his touch, lean closer and fist his shirt as your lips press back just as firm.

and when he gently pushes you back, you let him. you even let him step into your apartment and spin you around, shutting the door and pressing your back against the cool surface. his body cages you so that there’s no room for escape—not that you think you could even run from him now that he’s let himself in, anyway. but with one more peck to your lips, he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours as he clicks his teeth and sighs.

“fine, i’m fuckin’ sorry. ‘s that what you wanted to hear?”

“not if you’re only saying it to make me un-mad,” you say stubbornly.

he clicks his teeth again, shoots you a look of irritation that you return tenfold. “‘m sayin’ it ‘cus i want to, dumbass. you think i’d say that shit just to say it?”

“i don’t know, you’re rude,” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. he rolls his eyes before he leans in and kisses your cheek, then the other, then the tip of your nose, then just over your brow, then your eyelid—and when he sees the beginnings of a smile crack on your lips, he nibbles on your cheek and pulls a soft giggle from you against your will.

“said i was fuckin’ sorry, stop being stubborn.”

“don’t yell at me again,” you huff, “and fix your sleep schedule.”

“okay.”

“and eat proper meals.”

“fine.”

“and maybe clean up.”

“kay, i’ll try. happy?”

“and stop getting into fights—”

“let’s set realistic expectations, here,” he cuts you off, earning a huff from you. but you seem significantly less angry—and he’s glad. because sleeping without your body to squeeze in the dead of night and not hearing you hum that stupid song you always listen to as you wash dishes and not getting those back to back pings on his phone as you spam him with daily updates is starting to get to him. so he wraps an arm around your waist, tugs you flush against his chest as meets your gaze, “are you still mad? because then you’re just being difficult.”

“no,” you sigh, making him grin.

“good.”

“i just love you,” you mumble, and there’s that cute, innocent little pout that you always do tugging at your lips, the one that drives him mad and reminds him he’s just as in love too. “i want what’s best for you—”

“yeah, yeah,” he grunts, “okay. i love you too. i’ll start being more responsible and shit. now can i come to bed?”

“fine,” you cave, “but—”

“great, let’s go,” he drags you along, not wasting a moment before your body is tossed onto the mattress and his lands on top of you, head tucking into your neck. and it’s warm—where his lips are, where he traces kisses along the awaiting skin.

dating shidou ryusei is exhausting—but there are a few perks, you have to admit.

“you’re a headache,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. he snorts, shakes his head from his place in your neck, earning a small giggle from you at the way it tickles.

“yeah? so are you with your nagging.”

“i don’t nag,” you slap his shoulder. he laughs—it’s that low, soft rumble that he only laughs around you, when his head is tucked into your neck, and your hands rub up and down his back, and he’s content.

and maybe a little in love.

“you do. but i love it, it’s hot when you’re mad.”

“go to sleep, ryusei,” you roll your eyes. and then you wait a moment or two—just so he doesn’t get a big head when you begrudgingly mumble, “and i love you too.”

half of this is just filler with dialogue but wtv. take this lil scenario in my head of arguing w shidou bc he’s a living train wreck

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#shidou x reader #shidou x you #shidou fluff #shidou ryusei fluff #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff

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01zfan · 1 month

Text

housequake pt. 2 | j. sc

soccer team leader!sungchan x cheerleader!reader | 9k words

part two! i kinda got carried away with leading up to the party...y'all know me i love to type a little too much. also sungchan wears mr. burberry cologne in this.

contains: smoking, partying, and drinking

housequake: part one | part two

after the police crashed shotaro’s party, everyone became paranoid. guest lists were kept small and big blowout parties turned into medium sized gatherings or calm kickbacks.

some people complained about it, how the looming authority of the cops took away the joy of being young. there was the constant fear of being busted, especially from the kids that were caught and given a warning by the cops. your team complained about it too. you found it odd that they complained about the small parties when a majority of it was spent outside, passing around substances. very few times did you actually see your team inside the houses of the party instead of the lawn. you never said this out loud because there was nothing your team hated more than being considered hypocrites. you preferred to tough the weather conditions rather than try to navigate sticky floors and loud music. atleast this way you could actually hear your teammates as they ran through topics of conversation while smoking cigarettes down to the butt.

speaking points of your little huddle changed each week. you had started referring to them as your debriefs of the week. some topics would be on a rotation, ever now and then there would be something so monumental that happened it would be brought up time and time again. when you were freshmen, it was when karina caught her ex red-handed with a former member of the cheerleading team. your huddle combed over every detail of the night, adding in things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but just gave you more to talk about. each time you thought you were done and then you’d hear an i just think it’s funny how before everyone dove back into the conversation

as of late, you and sungchan became one of the main topics of conversation. it started when you and ryujin successfully escaped from shotaro’s busted house party. you barely had time to look back at sungchan as ryujin pulled you out the room and down the stairs. even though it was inevitable a party of that size in a neighborhood that quiet would get busted, it was still scary. warnings from law enforcement evolved into tickets and in school suspension after a call home. you even heard a case of someone having to get picked up from the station. you saw that some of your classmates had already been made into examples. they sat lined up on the curb like ducks in handcuffs while officers wrote them tickets.

before you could walk out the front door right to the cops, ryujin grabbed your hand and pointed towards shotaro’s backyard. you looked at the cop coming through the front door and locking eyes with you before turning on the ball of your foot, running towards the sliding glass door. kids rushed beside you going in all different directions. you knew it wasn’t nearly as scary to get caught by the cops, but the haste of everyone else made adrenaline pump through your veins.

when ryujin said your only option was jumping the fence you wanted to tell her that your legs were still exhausted from what you were doing in shotaro’s room not even five minutes ago. you didn’t have time as you ran past your slow peers, or narrowly evading the cops that were in shotaro’s backyard trying to grab whoever they could.

ryujin let go of your hand to get over the fence, and you had little time to prep yourself before you leaped over it. you had to thank your career in cheer for helping you clear the fence with ease. you saw a few of your peers get stuck on the fence and that’s how they were caught. you felt like a criminal on the run when you swung your leg over the fence to cut through the yards of shotaros’ neighbors. a few had their lights on, yelling at the small crowd of teenagers as they ran from the police. you recognized a few faces of the people who were able to escape. eyes were focused and everyone ran at full speed trying to hold all their things as they ran from the sound of police sirens. all you could think about were the soles of your poor cheerleading shoes as you ran through garden beds and stone walkways.

you and ryujin kept running long after everyone around you stopped. the two of you didn’t slow down until you found an exit from the yard, emerging onto the street. ryujin grabbed your hand again and pointed at karina’s car. you don’t know how ryujin noticed the car that was parked underneath the streetlamp. the lights were off and you couldn’t see anyone in the car. it was almost ominous, seeing the single light shine down on the matte black vehicle.

you two jogged across the street, the sound of your cheer shoes hitting the road louder than the police sirens down the street. karina and chaeryeong’s seats shot up when ryujin pulled on the backdoor car handle.

by the time you made it to karina’s car your shoes were a mess. the pristine white was replaced with dirt and mud, and it looked like it was going to stain. you and ryujin were huffing in the backseat trying to catch your breath. karina wasted no time turning on her car to leave the area.

you didn’t catch your breath for another five minutes. just as you thought you were calming down, your mind took you back to your encounter with sungchan. you barely had time to comprehend what happened before being pulled away. with each breath you remembered the way sungchan puffed into your ear, or how he was moaning for you when he was close. when you closed your eyes to focus that only made things worse. you swear you could see the way sungchan looked at you seared into the back of your eyelids, or how he leaned his head back when he came on your thighs.

ryujin caught her breath before you did. when ryujin was able to speak again she wasted no time to tell the story of how a guy was able to get you to go upstairs. her side of the story was dramatized and exaggerated, but it made karina and chaeryeong’s eyes go wide nonetheless. you were still breathless as you shook your head to try and squash ryujin’s lies, but it was no use. karina’s interest was piqued as she tried to figure out who the man was.

karina looked at your expression for only a second in the rearview mirror before gasping out loud. karina was so shocked her car swerved on the road slightly and had to be corrected by chaeryeong putting panicked hands on the wheel. you had to remind yourself that karina did nothing but smoke tonight, she was the safest one to drive out of everybody. you could probably ask her how the other girls got home to avoid talking about the elephant in the car, but it was too late when karina whispered his name.

“sungchan?” karina said.

ryujin nodded her head and you stuck your head in your hands, suddenly too embarrassed to even think. you felt karina reach towards the backseat and hit your knee in exclamation.

“i. fucking. knew. it.” karina seethed after each hit

she was entirely too excited, mouth open in surprise as she laughed. karina and ryujin laughed together, waiting for your explanation. you shook your head and ryujin took matters into her own hands. ryujin recounts the story and karina nods her head excitedly, eyes on the road as she gathers in all the new information. chaeryeong corraborates the story, nodding along as ryujin tells karina.

“so i see chaeryeong getting chatted up by that girl on her team that is always hitting on her right? so i go over to her just for a second to bring her back with me because she looks uncomfortable as hell.” ryujin says.

“not true.” chaeryeong says unconvincingly.

you can practically hear ryujin roll her eyes as you look up from your hands. you see ryujin pointing her finger at you as karina steals glances by looking at her rearview mirror.

“before i can bring her back, i see this little player walking up the stairs,” karina gasps again and ryujin nods her head. “i see her walking up the stairs with sungchan. his hand is literally on her ass by the way.” ryujin says

“his hand was on my shoulder.” you say matter-of-factly.

karina looks to the rear view mirror to laugh at you.

“you don’t deny anything else?” karina asks.

her eyebrows are raised and the car fills up with giggles as you say nothing in response.

“i didn’t know you had it in you.” karina says.

“i didn’t know he had it in him.” you correct.

ryujin and karina exchange looks. chaeryeong freezes before turning to look at you in the backseat. you can feel ryujin turning to look at you too. everyone has an extremely confused look on their faces and you subconsciously match their expressions.

“wait. you guys fucked?” ryujin asks.

your eyes are wide as you nod. you thought they knew, but the playful atmosphere in the car changed almost immediately. your three friends are silent as they look to one another. you consider opening up the car door and barrel rolling into the road to get away from the conversation.

“this changes everything.” karina says.

the car is silent again and you see chaeryeong and ryujin nod their heads in agreement. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you try to understand what karina means.

“how?” you ask. “you and eunseok have fucked.” you turn your head to the side to look at ryujin and chaeryeong. "you two have fucked."

“well that’s different. we’ve been fooling around for awhile.” karina says.

“your dynamic with sungchan is so different too.” chaeryeong says.

you look at chaeryeong in amazement that she has so much to say and she shrugs at you to say sorry. you know she’s not wrong when ryujin and karina nod their heads in agreement.

“it’s gonna be so awkward.” ryujin says.

karina turns on her blinker to go into her neighborhood. you try to come up with a rebuttal or defense but you know it’s the truth.

“i know. it’s gonna be great.” karina says smiling.

ryujin and karina were right. the following monday at school you saw sungchan first, and your mind immediately went to shotaro’s party two days prior. you wondered if he thought about the night as much as you did or if he was as nervous to see you as you were to see him. you debated on walking into an empty classroom to avoid the situation all together, but it was too late. sungchan made direct eye contact with you while anton and eunseok walked next to him. you felt like all their eyes were on you, and you there was a sinking feeling. you imagined yourself becoming the subject of their locker room talk. so when they came closer to you in the hallway your hands tightened around you backpack straps and you looked down, continuing to walk. you completely missed sungchan smiling at you and his awkward little wave and the way he turned his head to look back at you.

anton and eunseok were confused seeing sungchan try to get your attention. they didn’t even think about the time at the party that sungchan was unaccounted for, or how shotaro blew up their groupchat talking about jizz on his towel.

“what was that all about?” eunseok asked.

sungchan shrugged his shoulders and readjusted his backpack.

“i thought she saw me.” sungchan said simply.

they didn’t ask him to explain further. eunseok and anton just continued to talk about the next soccer game and how they were going against their rivals. sungchan was barely present for the conversation, nodding his head to seem engaged.

it went on like this for the whole day, sungchan thinking about how you passed him by in the hallway without saying a single word. he thought about you and him in shotaro’s room, how embarrassed he was after the fact. sungchan started to think you were embarrassed of the situation too. his face started to feel hot and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking you weren’t satisfied with his performance. you could’ve easily lied to make sungchan feel better. he couldn’t stop himself from putting his head in his hands at the thought of him not being able to please you. sungchan had the habit of losing himself when chasing his pleasure, he was afraid it was to the point that you didn’t have any fun.

when you sat at your table for lunch all their eyes were on you. you looked to ryujin and karina, they avoided your eye contact, picking at food on their plate. you tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, eating your food while the rest of the table stared at you. you took a bite, feeling all of their eyes burn holes into your skin. you look up from your plate innocently, eyes darting to all your teammates.

“what?” you ask.

everyone at the table groans at your benevolence.

“don’t even.” yunjin says.

“details. now.” ningning says.

you look at karina and ryujin. they shrug and immediately get defensive.

“you didn’t say we couldn’t say anything!” ryujin says.

you can’t bring yourself to talk about the situation in detail. your team settles for hearing your awkward encounter with sungchan this morning, how you two made eye contact and didn’t interact. your team becomes your active audience, cringing and giving sound effects to your story. some of them even turn to look at sungchan sitting at a table with his friends. he barely eats his food, pushing around his fruit with a fork.

“he’s looked like a lost puppy all day by the way.” chaeryeong says.

“i mean look at the poor guy.” yunjin says.

she hides a smile and you look over yunjin’s shoulder to look at sungchan. you can’t lie and say he doesn’t look downcast at his seat. he has always been the worst at hiding his emotions, you have seen frustration take over multiple times during the season. he’d visibly roll his eyes at the referee when a bad call was made, and you have seen him get defensive when his teammate was pushed down. but that fiery spirit you saw on the field was nothing like the man sitting at the table, stealing glances at you ever so often.

when sungchan looked up at the same time you did you both made eye contact. so lost in eachother’s own minds made both of your eyes go wide, embarrassed for some reason to show you were thinking about the other. you held eye contact for a beat too long, eyes darting to your food a little too quickly. your friends laid witness to the whole thing, most of them cringing.

the monday after the party and the party itself gave your team alot to talk about. so now each party they would subtly try to bring up sungchan, trying to see if there were any updates. it bothered them to no end that you would just smile and look down shyly before shaking your head. you were awful at keeping secrets so you simply chose to stay silent. they could see the heat in your cheeks and the way you bashfully shrugged your shoulders, but they didn’t ask you anymore questions.

they didn’t know that by the time the next party came around, you were seeing sungchan consistently. you saw him again nearly colliding with him in the library. it was an accident on your part but negligence on whoever it was that ran into you. you turned around, ready to give whoever it was the meanest look you could muster. but when you realized it was sungchan, the expression on your face changed to pure shock.

he was no better, getting ready to apologize profusely before his eyes went wide.

neither of you could figure out what to say. you didn’t know it would be so awful to hookup with people at parties and never speak to them again. as you stared at sungchan you were at a loss for words—you had to shake your head several times when you felt your eyes wondering. you tried to push past him quickly to give your groupchat another thing to cringe over. but before you could get away, sungchan called out to you. he reached out his hand as well, but he pulled it back to rest by his leg.

“can we talk?” sungchan asked

that talk led to both of you quietly confessing that you would like to continue seeing eachother. you both kept it a secret from your teams in an effort to keep the mess contained. so many instances of your two teams fooling around made you want to keep everything personal until you decided where the relationship was going to go.

after the first date you were inseparable. after the second date sungchan asked to be your boyfriend. after the third date sungchan started dropping hints that he wanted to tell the world you were his girlfriend. he started walking you to all of your classes even if they were on the other side of the campus and holding all of your things even if his hands were full. sungchan started dropping his things off in class a little earlier, just so he could lighten the load you had to carry. you adopted your own ways of doting on sungchan. your doting came in the form of notes in his locker on game days wishing him luck and grabbing his hand when you both were alone. it was simple signs of affection, but no matter what sungchan shyly put his hand down and started smiling uncontrollably.

by the time the next weekend party rolled around you were heavily involved with sungchan. you both found it humorous to sneak around behind your teammates backs, although you weren’t really trying to keep it a secret. you just liked playing dumb when your team would bring up you and sungchan.

when you sat outside of sungchan’s house with your huddle while they passed around their substances you couldn’t stop smiling. something about parties now were even more enjoyable than they were before. even when your group got mad at the fact that they had to move to the backyard to smoke you remained happy, quickly looking through each room for your man. he was constantly going to each room of his house making sure everything remained in tact.

sungchan knew he was a little bit too high strung to throw big gatherings like shotaro did. after his friend got busted the unspoken responsibility to throw house parties landed on sungchan’s shoulders. he hated the idea of strangers being in his parents house so he settled for a smaller guest list and a designated schedule for when the party was over. he also made his team agree to help clean any messes that were left when the party was over. sungchan was trying his best to not get the police called on him, so he was constantly monitoring the volume of people and the music. sungchan felt an unbelievable amount of stress pacing around his home. it was freezing outside but he sweat from the anxiety, and he couldn’t stop himself from putting people’s drinks on coasters. he decided he was never going to host anything like this ever again.

the only source of relief sungchan had from the night was seeing you. it was in quick snatches and in between moments of sungchan catching someone doing something they weren’t supposed to. at first your interactions were rushed. sungchan would only be able to grip your shoulders quickly before stopping someone from running into a framed picture hanging on the wall. he kissed your forehead quickly during another part in the night before stopping someone from going into his room. it wasn’t until the party was winding down that sungchan was actually able to flirt with you the way he wanted to.

it was ironic, the harder he tried to seem cool the more awkward he felt. when sungchan put his hands into his pockets to lean over you, he felt like an idiot. the only thing that kept sungchan going was the way you looked up at him, and nodded your head slowly anytime he asked you if you knew how pretty you were. right as sungchan would be getting into the feeling of it all, he would see another one of his guests about to do something that would get sungchan reprimanded by parents. he kissed your cheek before running off, giving you his saddest look.

you didn’t care if sungchan didn’t spend all night with you. you were having fun outside with your friends hearing them talk about whatever came to their minds outside. it seemed like this time was the only relief you got from your hectic school schedules and grueling practices.

just as your huddle started talking about you and sungchan, you saw him come into the backyard. he had a bottle of beer in his hand that was just for show as he nervously approached your group of girls.

“the party is about to end,” sungchan rubbed the back of his neck as your team looked at him unamused. they continued to smoke as sungchan got even more nervous. you smiled at the situation, kicking a rock around as sungchan tried to get in everyone’s good graces. “my parents are gonna be home in the morning.” sungchan said.

your team didn’t react besides karina who nodded to him. sungchan looked at you and smiled, bringing his hand that was awkwardly behind his back to wave at you. it was awkward and he did it for no reason, bringing the attention of your teammates to your interaction. you could feel their eyes drift from sungchan’s hand to yours as you smiled and waved back. sungchan stayed there for a moment with his eyes only on you before he remembered the presence of your teammates. he walked away after looking around your huddle, and slightly tripped while heading back to the door. you failed to hide your smile as your team teased you for the awkward interaction.

you spent the remainder of the party outside with your team, staring at the sliding glass door of sungchan’s house. the door in the kitchen led you right outside, where the main group of people resided. you saw more and more people clear the space as time passed. occasionally you would get a glance of sungchan instructing his team on where to clean up. sungchan would also sneak peaks outside where your team remained unmoving.

“looks like the party is over.” you say casually.

your attempt at sounding casual failed. the moment you finished your sentence your huddle turned towards you with wicked smiled on their faces.

“trying to be alone with sungchan?” karina asked.

“that’s why she’s trying to end the party early.” yunjin laughed.

instantly you shook your head and raised your hands in defense.

“i don’t know what you guys are talking about.” you say.

it was no use. you were teased the whole time while your group left through the gate in sungchan’s backyard. they only got louder when you said you were staying behind to help clean.

“you’ve never helped clean up after a party in your life.” ryujin said.

your whole team was laughing while you tried to make up an excuse. you didn’t hear the end of it until the door closed to karina’s car. even in the team groupchat they were talking about you. the moment karina’s car backed out of the driveway your phone’s ringer was going off. you were getting sent texts talking about the importance of safe sex and to report back about how good sungchan was at actual sex when you were done.

you were defending yourself over text while walking back into sungchan’s house through the back door. the same kitchen table that was covered in spilled drinks and bottles of hard liquor was completely clean. the whole house seemed to be clean now with the help of the soccer team. they had stayed behind too, walking through sungchan’s place with bags and cleaning gloves on checking for spills or leftover trash.

you leaned against the table in sungchan’s kitchen waiting to see him again. his teammates passed by you, getting ready to tell you it was time to go home before realizing who you were. when they saw your face, they would nod politely before walking off to continue cleaning. you tried not to think too much of it, maybe they thought you were waiting for your teammates that were long gone.

sungchan was checking each room of his home trying not to seem frantic. he started at the very top, peaking into the empty room of his parents and then walking down the hallway to check his. when he saw that all of the upstairs was empty, he was happy that there were no stragglers. but when sungchan checked the downstairs living room and the guest room he felt himself begin to panic. he started to think that it was only him, his teammates, and leftover partygoers in his big house. sungchan started swinging open doors without knocking, only muttering a sorry to his teammate in the bathroom before continuing to check the rooms. sungchan almost ran past you to look outside before stopping in his tracks.

you looked up from your phone to see sungchan in the entryway of his dining room. you were still leaning on the table looking up to your boyfriend from something unimportant on your device. you took in sungchan’s frazzled appearance and the way he was slightly out of breath from running around his house. he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the strands from his face. he cleared the singular step that took him down into the kitchen with ease and walked towards you.

“you had fun?” sungchan asks.

sungchan’s perfume gets to you before his hand does. when he leans forward you smell the cleanliness of sandalwood and a hint of spearmint before the warmth and comfort of nutmeg and cardamom fills your nose. the woody cleanliness of sungchan makes you the drunkest you’ve ever been, it almost makes you fall off the counter you lean on. you’re drawn closer to him, and feel him everywhere before he even touches you.

sungchan brings a gentle hand rests on top of yours as he leans his body closer to you. he’s is at an awkward angle, almost like he is trying to stop himself from invading too much of your personal space. you look down at the shirt he managed to keep clean all night. the baby blue polo for your school uniform it’s too formal for a house party, but the collar looks perfect to grab. you have to fight to stop yourself from closing the space between the two of you. your mind drifts to the image of how the fabric would look wrinkled between your clutched fingers.

sungchan’s hand that doesn’t rest on top of yours goes underneath your chin to push your gaze upwards. you let your eyes connect with him, and your hands have to grip tighter to the edge of the counter. if anyone else was in the room they no longer mattered—only you and sungchan existed in the space of his kitchen.

“it was alot of fun.” you said.

“it wasn’t as big as taro’s parties.” sungchan said.

you shrugged your shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant. you felt like you were going to snap off the edge of sungchan’s counter with the force of your grip.

“i like smaller parties. they’re calmer.” you say.

sungchan nods in agreement. you see hie body pause for a second before he lets his hand rest on the edge of the counter next to yours. you quickly try to loosen your grip, but you see sungchan hold the edge until his knuckles turn white. it becomes harder to remain calm as sungchan’s eyes get softer. he still refuses to come closer into your space. it's almost torture having him close enough to smell but too far to touch casually.

“i barely got to see you.” you continue.

sungchan nods again. he surprises you by coming in a little closer, his hand underneath your chin brings you to him. you use your hands on the counter to move your body towards his.

when someone clears their throat in the kitchen you both jolt. sungchan’s hand immediately drops from your face and you turn your head away from whoever made the noise. you look outside the window of sungchan's kitchen, looking at the empty yard where you oncee stood. sungchan lets go of the counter to stand upright. he clears his throat too, and you can hear him scratching his head.

“we need help finding more bags.” you heard a voice awkwardly say.

“i showed you where already.” sungchan said.

“i forgot.” he says simply.

you let a tiny laugh escape you and sungchan shakes his head. when the person turns to leave the kitchen you look and see that it’s sohee. he sat next to you in your home economics class last year. now you would have to avoid him for the next couple days. sohee turned around for a moment and you could almost feel sungchan next to you trying to inconspicuously shoo him away. sohee looked lost for just a moment, looking around where to go before walking out of sight.

sungchan’s hands that were in the air suddenly moved to his hair to adjust the strands. he looked at you again before swallowing his nerves.

“go upstairs and wait for me?” sungchan asked.

he left the question in the air to let you decide what you wanted to do. his teeth were showing by the time he was done talking, an awkward smiling playing on his lips. you remain straight faced, the only expression showing in your eyes.

“is it going to be just us?” you ask.

you looked past sungchan to his mostly vacant home. the only evidence of a party that remained were the stragglers and the sparse messes on the floors. you saw crumpled red solo cups and occasionally your foot would step in something sticky. your team is long gone. they seemed to have disappeared after you told ryujin your plans, and you’re sure ryujin told everyone else.

sungchan plays with the short sleeve of your shirt, thumbing the hem so he can touch your bare arm. his hand travels up from the fabric until he reaches your face. he used his thumb to stroke the apples of your cheeks. his eyes focus on the way your skin moves underneath the light pressure of his thumb when he speaks.

“just us. i’ll put people on the street if i have to.” sungchan says.

you laugh and put your hand on his, moving it away from your face. his eyes snap back to yours, looking to see if you had changed your mind. you try to seem facetious, like you have something in store for him when you get him alone.

“your room is on the right up the stairs?” you ask innocently.

you start heading the correct way when sungchan nods quickly. he stays there for a moment, just to make sure you’re heading towards the stairs. he peaks over his shoulder to see the person that he almost got out the house settled back on his couch. sungchan starts backing towards the person on his couch as you walk towards the stairs. you turn your back but you can hear sungchan call out to you from the living room.

“i’ll be up there soon.” he says excitedly.

when you get to the base of sungchan’s stairs, the way up is daunting. you believe going up shotaro’s stairs were easier, even if his stairs were bare and had to carpet to help traction your feet. shotaro’s stairs had people shoulder to shoulder, not giving you the chance to be alone even if you wanted to. but up sungchan’s stairs—thirteen to be exact—was his empty room waiting for you. you tried to not trip on the even steps, and tried to seem as relaxed as possible incase sungchan had turned around to check that you went into the correct room. your posture is straightened as you try to make yourself seem calm and collected, and your hand grips the railing with a white knuckle.

you somehow make it up, and immediately make a beeline for sungchan’s room. you waste no time closing the door behind you, trying to give yourself as much time as possible to relax. you pace around sungchan’s room in the same timid path to try not and disrupt anything. you look at his desk and his chair that has his backpack hanging on the back. you turn on his lamp and look at the papers he has laid out.

when you feel like you have looked for too long, you walk to his dresser to read the trophies and medals that rest on top. they’re dusty, some of them newer than others but they all say the same thing. when you get tired of that you move to sungchan’s black bedside table. you debate on opening the tiny drawer, just to take a peak at what’s inside. when the temptation becomes to strong, you walk around the foot of sungchan’s bed to go to the other side. you study the photos and posters on his wall, slowly making your way across his room. at the very end, the closest spot to his bed you see the black and white photobooth pictures you took on your second date. you smile looking at the four photos on top of eachother. only in the first and last one does sungchan actually look at the camera; the two in the middle he spent locked on the expressions you made for the memories. you still remember having to manually move his head to take the last photo.

you were leaning in close to the photos when you heard the door open. your mind was preoccupied by snooping around sungchan’s room that you almost forgot why you were in here. the fleeting idea of stripping down to your undergarments and waiting on his bed for him posed all provocatively crossed your mind. the idea left your mind almost as soon as you realized you couldn’t look at sungchan’s bed without your stomach doing flips. it was too late anyway sungchan was in the room with you and you turned from the photos on his wall like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

sungchan enters his room hesitating. he stands in the open doorframe, to let the light from his hallway spill in. he debates with himself quietly, before using his back to gently close the door. when it’s just the two of you in the room the atmosphere changes. you watch sungchan’s every move as he comes further into the bedroom. he messes with something on his desk before coming around the foot of his bed to get closer to you. this is different from the anonymity of being in shotaro’s room. you are looking at the memories and snapshots of sungchan’s life while the possibilities of how your night is going to go hangs in the air.

sungchan sits on the edge of the bed and gently taps the space beside him. the invitation is timid, almost as timid as your shy steps towards him. the springs of his mattress give underneath your weight, and the dip caused by sungchan's body causes you to get slide closer to him. you can feel sungchan prop a hand behind your body as he leans back slightly. you let yourself lean on his arm, and sungchan flexes to give your body something more stable. he points to the photo booth pictures that are tacked to his wall with the hand that isn’t behind you.

“those are my favorite photos of us.” he says.

you hum in agreement, and let your body lean further into sungchan’s.

“that was a good day.” you say.

for a moment, you and sungchan stay like that, sitting on the edge of his bed while looking at the photos. the silence is comfortable, both of you leaning further and further into one another. you can feel the tension in the room go up as sungchan moves the hand behind you to wrap around your waist. it's slow, first picking at the belt loop of your jeans before going underneath the bottom of your shirt. his hand is warm against your waist, and you scoot closer to him. you can't get any closer without going to sungchan's lap, you only move to show him his touches are invited. you continue to breathe in sungchan, trying to calm your heart by looking at the photos on his wall.

“is everyone gone?” you ask.

“eunseok just left to drop off anton,” sungchan moves his hand to rest on your thigh that’s closest to him. “it’s just us.” sungchan says.

you finally get the courage to turn your head. you look at sungchan, your own face reflected in his eyes as he gets closer and closer to you.

both you and sungchan close your eyes at the same time before the kiss. it’s slow only a gentle peck to figure out what the other wants. too deliberate and overthought on both ends, completely different from the first time. you almost pull back as doubt creeps in but sungchan pushes forward to keep your lips connected. he’s quick, and his lips linger longer. you relax into sungchan as he sets the rhythm.

once you find a steady pace you both become more and more desperate. your hands touch various places on sungchan’s arm to find a good grip and sungchan’s hand goes underneath your chin to slightly push your head up. his other hand that wraps around your waist pulls at your sides underneath your shirt.

sungchan’s kisses falter, an offering for you to take the lead. you do it without hesitation—one hand reaches behind his back to the nape of his neck and the other clutches his shoulder. you tilt your head and sungchan mirrors your movement, giving you all the access you need. you both become starved, needing more and more with each kiss. the obvious doesn’t have to be said as you two dive into one another. both of your hands move to sungchan’s face to pull him in closer. he responds by getting off the bed and gets in front of you. your lips never separate as sungchan lets you suck on his face.

he’s a good teammate on and off the field, letting you kiss him until you tucker yourself out. when you pull away to catch your breath sungchan goes to your neck, bending even closer to lightly suck and nip at your skin. you clutch the sides of his polo shirt in your hands at the sensation. his plush lips tickle your neck, and the way his large hand tilts your head to the side makes you sigh contently.

you let your body fall back on the bed and sungchan kisses your neck all the way down. you can feel the electricity and sungchan can feel it too. you're already squirming, strong hands on his shoulder keeps sungchan in place. his dick presses against his pants, and he exerts all of his self control to hold himself back. you look so good underneath his body, and he breaks his no outside clothes on the bed rule to prop one of his knees beside your thighs. your hands continue to mess with his shirt, pushing it up to reveal his toned body. you arch off the bed, needing to feel his body against yours.

sungchan is suddenly upright, using quick hands to unbutton his polo. it’s over his head while you come from your daze. you start working on your own shirt, your fidgety hands fail you. sungchan is there to help you the rest of the way even though his hands shake the same.

when you are in your bra he kisses you back down onto the bed. his lips are on yours when you feel for the button on his jeans, clumsily undoing them as you try to keep up with his kisses.

“so pretty.” sungchan says breathlessly.

he started working at getting your pants off. having to lift your hips in the air is awkward, but it helps you push yourself further onto the bed. only your feet are over the edge when you’re left in your under garments. sungchan takes off his pants beside the bed. he adjusts the light setting on his lamp, changing it to a dim setting that still allows him to be visible.

”is having the light on okay?” sungchan looks to you quickly. “i want to see you.”

you shift slightly on the bed as you nod. sungchan’s eyes wander all over your body, staying on the parts of you he couldn’t see in the darkness of shotaro’s room.

he comes back to your slowly on the bed, his knees going to either side of you. he looms over you, bringing your face in for another kiss. this time it’s sungchan sucking on your lips, trailing down until he’s kissing your collarbones.

“can i touch you?” he asks.

his voice is raspy and low. you can feel the thrill shoot up your spine and the heat in the pit of your stomach intensifies.

“please.” you say.

sungchan wastes no time gripping your chest. he moves down your body slightly to place kisses on the exposed skin and to look at your expressions. he presses the pads of his fingers into your pillowy skin, fixated on the way it spills between his fingers. when his lips graze your sensitive areola you lift your leg that's between his. you can feel his hard dick press into your leg and sungchan sighs. when he purposely presses his dick against your thigh you can feel all of him, heavy and hard underneath his briefs. you sigh contently, and quietly moan when his kisses get wetter. sungchan doesn’t try to take off your bra, instead he pushes it down until your chest is completely exposed.

when he looks up to you again you nod, and your hand goes to his hair. you pet his head and arch your back into sungchan’s mouth and he doesn't hesitate to take you into his mouth. you can’t maintain eye contact when he looks up at you with glossy eyes, almost like he's waiting for approval. you lean your head back into the mattress, hoping that the way you pet his head tells him how good you feel.

sungchan starts moving your body until your head is resting on his pillows. when he’s not sucking on one breast he rolls your nipples between his fingers. you whimper when he pinches a little harder, and you can feel his smile against your wet skin.

sungchan drags his tongue across your chest until he latches on your other nipple. the cold air in sungchan’s room leaves the sensitive bud hardening, and the stimulation leaves you a squirming mess. you are only temporarily sated when sungchan’s fingers push underneath the waistband of your panties.

“so wet.” sungchan says quietly.

you only whine in response, and your legs close around sungchan’s hand. he smiles when he sees your swollen lip caught between your teeth and your hand fisting the sheets on his bed. your legs give sungchan’s hand no resistance when he separates them at the knee. he swipes his finger down your folds while he looks up at you.

“can you?” you ask.

sungchan nods before sliding a finger in. your body trembles. when he puts in two fingers you grab him and pull him close, pressing his face the soft skin of your stomach.

“i can barely fit two fingers” sungchan says.

he’s amazed when you start lifting your hips slightly. sungchan looks up to you and purposely locks his hand in place to see what you will do. when your stomach starts tightening so you can fuck yourself on his fingers, sungchan's eyes go wide. when you hiss each time his fingers go all the way inside of you, his dick twitches in his briefs. when you have to shake your head after sungchan tries to scissor his fingers, he has to focus on something else in his room.

“you’re perfect.” sungchan says out of breath.

he keeps his fingers in place, looking down at you as you slowly bring your hips up. your knees come together, and your grip on his sheets turns your knuckles white. when you start shaking sungchan has to pull his fingers out. he kisses away your whines when you start reaching for the waistband of his briefs.

sungchan looks down at your hand on his waistband and considers something for a moment.

“i could barely fit two fingers.” sungchan says.

“we can try,” you begin to pout and reach for your own waistband. “please?” you ask.

sungchan folds immediately, getting off his bed to look in his bedside drawer. you take the time to strip yourself, unclasping your bra and taking off your panties. sungchan looks around his drawer faster before finding what he’s looking for.

“i have these this time.” sungchan smiles.

you look and see the line of foil packets in sungchan’s hand. there’s atleast five, none of them have been separated yet. your eyes go wide and sungchan’s eyes go wide too. his cheeks become rosy as he holds out his hands defensively.

“i don’t plan on using all of them or anything. just extra just in case.” he says.

sungchan’s words come out rushed and you can’t help but smile. you slowly come to the edge of the bed yourself, letting your legs fall over the edge as sungchan slots himself between them. you snap at his waistband and look up to him. he ineptly detaches a single condom from the foil line, tearing it open quickly. you get back onto the bed as sungchan pushes down his underwear. you only let yourself look for a second to watch him slide the condom on his length. you look away and settle yourself in between the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position as sungchan clambers onto his bed.

you lay down as sungchan hovers above you, propped on an elbow as he looks down between the two of you. the anticipation is almost blinding as he looks to you for reassurance.

your eyes are closed underneath sungchan, and he kisses your lids to get you to look at him. you look to him for comfort, and his hand touching your face soothes you.

“tell me if it’s too much.” sungchan says.

you nod and crane your neck to kiss his lips. he kisses you back, and continues to kiss you as he lets his tip prod at your entrance. sungchan keeps his kisses constant, pressing lips to your open mouth. sungchan lips move all along your face as he goes further and further. when your walls clamp around him he can’t go any further without resistance. your sounds had graduated from whispers to moans when sungchan has to stop.

“you’re so tight.” he hisses.

“it’s alot.” you whimper.

sungchan stills inside of you and you bring your legs up to bend at the knee. spreading helps open your hips more, but an almost pained expression flashes against sungchan's face.

“should i pull out?” sungchan voice shakes.

“no,” you shake your head a little too quickly. “just go slow.” you say.

sungchan nods and kisses your forehead. he goes at an even slower pace. so slow that you can feel him everywhere—by the time sungchan’s hips kiss yours you’re consuming all of him. the way his hair shakes in the space between the two of you, his hand gripping your hip and his lips on your cheek. he pulls away only to go to the crook of your neck.

“you’re soooo tight.” sungchan rasps into your ear.

the way sungchan emphasizes almost makes you apologize. when you spread further to try and give him space he winces and holds your hips tighter.

"fuck. oh my god."

sungchan’s voice is almost whining in the skin of your neck. you let your hands go to his back, trying to find a comfortable position. you press on his back, and sungchan looks up from your neck to kiss your jaw.

“can i move?” sungchan asks tensely.

you tell him yes, and when he pulls out to slide in just as slow you move your hips up to meet him the rest of the way. sungchan sighs and you do too. you don’t know how you didn’t ask him to fuck you then and there in shotaro’s room all that time ago.

“it's like a perfect fit.” sungchan looks at you when he slides in a little faster.

“please don’t stop.” you whine.

“i don’t wanna,” you accidentally squeeze around sungchan’s length. “oh my god.” he says.

when sungchan kisses your lips again, you flex your abs to purposely clamp your walls around sungchan’s dick. you fail a few times, but when sungchan’s kisses falter you know you’re doing it right. you look to sungchan’s eyes and he looks down at you. his eyes are wide and blown out. he turns his head slightly when you keep squeezing around him, and you lift your hips to increase his pace.

“too much.” sungchan whines.

sungchan usually wasn't the one too back down from a challenge. that's why he was the leader of his team and why he was so good at his sport. when faced with a challenge he was able to find a way around it. he thought that breathing and focusing on anything else would keep him there with you. as he continud to slide in and out, he focused on his breathing, the way your face was contorting in pleasure trying to take all of him. the excitement that hung heavy off of him was bearable until the look in your eyes changed and sungchan felt your walls clamp his dick. almost too fast his hips stuttered and yours picked up their pace. his grip on your waist was useless as it loosened and he was pulled in close by you. the thrill he kept at bay shot up his spine and rang in his head.

sungchan moaned into your mouth when he came undone. it was desperate and quick, arguably even ruined as he started rutting into helplessly. his moans turned into whines while he released into the condom. feeling his climax brought you closer to your own peak, but you could feel yourself coming down when his sweaty body slumped on top of yours.

only a moment passes before his head shoots up from your chest, looking you in the eye. they’re no longer glazed with concern, only wide and blown out as he maintains eye contact.

sungchan said nothing when he stood up on his knees. your body can’t be cooled by the sweat when you feel his hands press to the back of your thighs. you moan at his strength, how he’s bending you in a new way. this sungchan is nothing like the whimpering mess that was panting against the skin of your neck before. this wasn't the sungchan that came on your cheer skirt almost untouched. this is the sungchan that has your knees pressed to your chest and watches his dick glide in and out of your pussy.

“feels good?” he asked, looking up to you.

“faster.” you whined.

”you got it” sungchan smiled.

sungchan went harder and faster, fucking you into his mattress. later down the line, once you got used to him, sungchan will coo at you teasingly as your responses came out jumbled messes. he would have to prove to you how possessive he really was, how the thought of anyone else seeing you like this made his skin crawl. without saying anything, sungchan could see you understood. he could tell by the way you looked at the shaking medals that hung above his bed while his headboard make contact with the wall. he could see your frantic hand trying to find something to steady yourself, first grabbing at the sheets before digging your nails into his arm. sungchan moaned, only using the pain as motivation to fuck you faster.

you could feel his strength behind each thrust and the hold on your thighs. the sound of skin slapping against skin drowned out your moans. sungchan heard you perfectly when you moaned about being close. looked away from your face to look where your hips met. he used only one hand to keep your thighs in place and used the other to whirl his finger on your clit. your other hand rested on top sungchan’s hand that kept your thighs in place. sungchan looked to your face again and clasped his hand over yours. both of you worked together to keep your thighs in place while sungchan kept his pace.

“cum for me baby.” sungchan said.

the way sungchan spoke to you had you coming undone. he was tender but set on his mission. he gave you all you needed to seize around his dick and cry out. by habit you let your moans be muffled by your arm. sungchan’s hand was quick in letting go of your thighs, forcing you to hold them in place while his hand moved your face to his. he swallowed your moans and cries while continuing to fuck you, only stopping when they fizzed off into weak whimpers.

the two of your stayed in that position, sungchan’s body pushed against your thighs, and you suddenly started noticing the position wasn’t comfortable. you let your suddenly tired legs down, and they slid on the covers until laid flat. sungchan’s exertion seemed to catch up to him too. he was huffing to catch his breath mirroring your hiss when he slid out to continue laying on top of you. when sungchan’s body became too heavy on top of you, you gently pressed at his shoulder. sungchan’s body stiffened and he looked up to you.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized quickly while rolling off your body.

you two laid on his bed in silence while trying to catch your breath. you could feel sungchan occasionally turning towards you.

“was that too much?” sungchan asked.

when you turned towards him sungchan looked worried. if you had any strength left in your body you would’ve laid on top of him and press lazy kisses to his face to thank him. but you had to regain your energy to ask for another round.

“that was perfect.” you say honestly.

sungchan’s worried expression is replaced with a smile. he already is back to normal, pinching your cheek before leaning over and kissing your forehead.

“you should go to the bathroom,” sungchan pulls away from your forehead. “always pee after sex.”

he gets off his bed to tie the condom off, stretching his back until it pops and comes to your side. you are barely able to prop yourself up on your elbows as sungchan goes into his dresser. he pulls out boxers for you and a large shirt, setting it beside you.

you nod and sigh in pain as you bring your legs over the edge of the bed. you playfully hit sungchan’s leg when you see him puff out his chest in pride.

“are you gonna tell your friends how i get down?” sungchan teases.

“shut up before i make you carry me.” you say.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: housequake #sungchan smut #riize smut

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