#but sure!!! lets pretend this turn of events is the least bit shocking
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Tony Stark Is Like A Painting
Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)
Genre: I literally have no idea what genre this qualifies as and I personally have a wide range of what I consider genre
Summary: Tony's being rejected from the Avengers Initiative. FUN!
(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)
Warnings: Very little Swearing (idk how that happened)
a/n: read Age Of Ultron for more information on Y/n's backstory
sidenote: if ya'll know about the rabbit in a snowstorm, HIT ME UP.
My Greatest Creation Is You (previous part) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (Ft. Static) | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | Static Verse Masterlist | Iron Man 1 (ft. Static) | Bucky Barnes, the Boyfriend
“I don’t think I want you looking at that,” Fury says in a scolding tone as he enters the room and takes a seat opposite Tony. There are guards surrounding them and behind their table are holographic screens lit up showcasing footage of the… let’s call it recent peculiar events. “I’m not sure it pertains to you anymore.” Fury pulls the file titled, “Avengers Initiative” out of Tony’s hands.
Ooof, she thinks. That’s gotta hurt.
“Now this, on the other hand, is Agent Romanoff’s assessment of you.” Fury hands Tony another file. “Read it,” He urges him.
Tony does as he’s told. “Aaaah—‘Personality overview—Mr. Stark displays compulsive behavior.’” Tony looks straight at Fury, “In my own defense, that was last week.” When Fury does nothing but stares at him unimpressed, he realizes his joke has not landed. Moving on, he adds, “‘Prone to self-destructive tendencies.’ I was dying. I mean, please. Aren’t we all? ‘Textbook narcissism’?” He seems a little shocked at the observation. There is a pause. He even looks at Fury… who remains unmoving. So Tony says, “Agreed. Okay, here it is… aaaaah—‘Recruitment assessment for Avenger Initiative. Iron Man? Yes.’” He closes the file. “I gotta think about it.”
Fury commands, as unimpressed as ever, “Read on.”
So once again, Tony does as he’s asked, he opens the file and reads, “‘Tony Stark not—? Not recommended’? That doesn’t make any sense. How can you approve—me but not approve me? I got a new ticker.” Fury gets off his seat. “I’m trying to—uh—do right by—uh—Pepper. I—I’m in uh—a stable-ish relationship.”
Fury walks around and rests against the table by Tony’s chair, “Which leads us to believe at this juncture we’d only like to use you as a consultant.”
And you have to know, a man does not dress up in a flashing red suit of armor if he isn’t at least a little bit of an egomaniac. If S.H.I.E.L.D. does not want him, he doesn’t need to pretend to need them. He’s a little petty that way.
Tony stands and offers his hand. Both men shake hands.
Clasping his other hand on top of Fury’s, “You can’t afford me.” He smiles.
He goes to leave, but then he turns around again. “Then again, I will waive my customary retainer in exchange for a small favor.” Fury looks a little skeptical, so he continues, “Rhodey and I are being honored in Washington and we need a presenter.”
Yeah… see? Real fucking petty that way.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Fury answers.
Tony smiles, triumphant in his upcoming revenge.
Then he whistles, “You coming?”
Y/n steps out of the shadow where she had been leaning on the wall, “You head out, I’ll be right behind you. The Director and I have a few things to square out.”
Tony rushes over, drops a kiss on her cheek, and heads out.
Both she and Fury take a seat.
“So?” Fury begins. “What is your assessment of Tony Stark?”
Y/n pushes her chair back so it’s balancing only on the hind legs. “My assessment is that whether you like it or not, he is going to be an Avenger.”
Fury raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”
His tone is so apprehensive that it makes Y/n smile. “There’s this painting I like. It’s called ‘Rabbit In A Snowstorm’. You heard of it?”
“That all white piece of canvas that you fancy folk like to call art? Yes. I’ve heard of it,” Fury replies, clearly interested.
Y/n smile some more. “You don’t like it, I take it…”
Fury looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world to dislike it. “It is literally all white. Now, I might not be the artsiest fucker out there, but come on, calling that blank canvas a painting is a stretch.”
Nodding in mild assent, Y/n shoves her hands in her pocket and throws her head back. “See, the thing about that ‘blank canvas’ is that it takes time. The more time you spend looking at the painting, the more of yourself that you invest into it, the more you see. You spend a couple minutes you see the texture, a more and you see the different shades of white and a couple hours in you can even see the brush strokes.”
“So, you’re saying Tony is like that painting?” Fury asks, mildly annoyed.
Y/n sits up. “I’m saying all the people around him have stuck around for a reason. And no matter how—unstable you think he might be, you have to admit the people around him are beyond trustworthy.”
“I cannot pick him to be on my team because I like his friends. This is not a game of charades in a shitty little house party,” Fury argues.
Shrugging, Y/n says. “Look, this isn’t me trying to convince you. I don’t really care if you put him on the roster. I just know he’ll find his way there.” Fury looks at her with a challenge in his eye. “What? You think the council will let you call in these so-called ‘Avengers’—” she picks up the file titles, ‘Avengers Initiative’, “—unless the world is on fire?” She scoffs. “No, right? So here’s my follow-up question; if the world is on fire do you think my brother, Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark will just sit on his ass and watch it happen?”
“So you’re saying it’s inevitable?” Fury questions, brow raised in discontent.
Standing up, Y/n replies in indispensable nonchalance, “No, come on! I’m saying neither of us knows what’s gonna happen in the future.”
“Except for the part where Tony will be on the team,” Fury counters.
“Yeah, except for that,” Y/n answers, fixing her suit.
“How do you know that the rest of them will accept him?”
“I know because of the ‘Rabbit In The Snowstorm’,” she tells him and begins walking out. “It’ll happen sooner than you think. You’ll wake up one day and realize Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark are the best of friends.” She shakes her head, “It’ll be hilarious.”
“You’ve got yourself a bet, Agent Stark,” Fury challenges with a small smile in his voice.
“It’s Ms. Stark.” She puts on her sunglasses. “And you’re on, Nick.” With that she steps out, rushing over to her brother, who’s waiting patiently in his car.
“I’m craving donuts, you want some donuts? I think we should get some donuts,” Tony says as she gets in the car.
“I think Randy’s is open.”
With that, they drive off.
Find the series masterlist here. Find the Static Verse Masterlist here. Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.
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#static verse#tony stark x stark!reader#stark reader#tony stark imagine#tony stark fic#tony stark fanfic#iron man 2 fic#iron man imagine#iron man au#tony stark x sister reader#tony stark x y/n#natasha romanoff fic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#marvel x you#marvel fanfic#marvel fic#mcu fanfic#tony stark x pepper potts#iron man 2#avengers fanfic#avengers fanfiction#avengers au#avengers fic#avengers fluff#avengers x you#avenger reader
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Blind Date Event ~ Kyros X Reader
Thank you to everyone who submitted applications for my Blind Date Matchmaking Event. I hope you enjoy these lovely bedtime stories during this week of overpriced chocolates, flowers and heart shaped things. @imaultrabossbruh ma'am the way I am so fucking jealous of you...whew. Anyways enjoy the best husband and father material in OP (besides Bege ofc)
Mostly fluff, SFW, Kyros X Female reader, first blind date experience. WC: 1.1K.
Minors DNI - my content is for mature audiences only
Retired Lieutenant Colonel Kyros stepped out of his car to let you slide in the backseat. He was a striking, tall man with a kind face and gorgeous black locks. You weren’t expecting to be driven by a chauffeur but that was apparently one of the perks from being honorably discharged from the army, according to him.
While the two of you sat in the car comfortably, Lieutenant Colonel – no he insists you call him Kyros, please – pulls out the neatly folded pamphlet from the matchmaking medium.
“I have to be honest with you, ______. I did not sign up for this matchmaking event. My daughter signed me up. But please, do not take it the wrong way. I am excited to be here, I just have not dated in a very long time and I’m not sure I know how to do it anymore.”
His voice had a foreign accent you couldn’t quite place but it suited him well. Everything about his appearance suited him. The way his suit accentuated all his muscled mass, the way his hair was pulled back and not trying to hide the scar on his face, everything about the way he presented himself was confident and impressive to say the least.
So, it shocked you to hear how…insecure he sounded.
He held his hands up in surrender, “Wait I do not think that came out right. Argh, I’m sorry I think I am already, how do you say, blowing it up.”
You giggle, cautiously reaching a hand to his arm. He tensed a little.
“Its ok Kyros. I haven’t been on a date in a while either.”
He looked you over, analyzing your face. He let a smile form on his face and his body relaxed. “My daughter would say I am a hot mess right now.”
That made you laugh and he took the opportunity to quickly glance at pamphlet, the car finally humming to life as the driver plugged in the GPS coordinates. Kyros blushed, eyes narrowing as he read over the ice breaker topics. You noticed some sweat droplets forming on his temple.
“Tell me about yourself Kyros. You’re retired from the army with impressive honors and you have a daughter old enough to sign you up for blind dating. But what makes you Kyros the man?”
“______, that’s…” he sighed, “That’s a bit of a long story.”
It was but you hung on to his every word. His unfortunate and rough background, his criminal record, how he turned himself around and joined the army, finding and losing his first love, and the life of a single dad. By the time he finished speaking, the car had pulled up to the restaurant.
“Ah, I’m sorry I spent all that time talking about me,” he nervously massaged his neck.
“The date technically hasn’t started so don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you,” you smile warmly.
Kyros felt relieved by that. Truth was, he did see his daughter sign him up for the blind date but he became so flustered at the gesture that he pretended he never noticed. So far you hadn’t been turned off by his anxiety, his disability nor the fact that he had a teenage daughter. He felt like those would surely be deal breakers for most people; not you it seems and that gave him a spark of hope.
Being the gentleman he is, he held the door open for you and pulled out your seat for you. You were not used to someone being this well-mannered. Could your era of dating fuck boys finally be at an end?!
Drinks and food were shared between you as your night continued. You told him more about yourself: your crazy work schedule from the job you were very passionate about, your family, your hobbies, what you were looking for in a relationship.
Kyros drank his mimosa and listened politely to you. He appreciated how lively you were talking about your passions and your family. Kyros valued family above all else. He appreciated that your principles lined up and he was pretty certain you were feeling the same way. But he had to know…
“_____, I know we’ve briefly talked about my daughter and I don’t want to keep bringing her up while we enjoy our night getting to know each other. I find that I am quite enjoying your company. A lot. And I just need to know now that you do not have any reservations about it. My daughter is my life and one of my deal breakers is someone who could not accept Rebecca because she is a reminder of my last marriage. So please, tell me now before I start to fall for you – will that be an issue for you?” his gaze was firm, analytic.
You had to suppress any noises for fear of giving the wrong impression.
“Of course not, Kyros. If it was, I would have stepped out of the car the second you said you didn’t sign up for the event.”
Kyros eyes nearly bugged out of his face. He forgot he did mention it while the car was still parked in front of your home. You had the free pass to exit right then and there and you did not take it.
“Right,” his face relaxed. “Good to know.”
And that was the last wave of tension that rolled off his shoulders. The rest of your night was full of excitement and fun. Kyros didn’t let completely loose, still maintaining his decorum as a highly decorated officer of course. That did not however, stop him from borderline hogging the karaoke machine.
There was no line or official sign-up sheet, so Kyros took that as permission to sing his heart out. Finding covers by artists you mentioned you enjoyed, you were extremely pleased to hear that Kyros was a PHENOMENAL singer. Like he could go on The Voice and probably win he was that good.
You cheered him on and that inspired him to serenade with the final song of the evening. It was the best rendition of Santana’s Smooth you’d ever heard in your life. That was the moment you felt something blossom in your chest, flush reaching your cheeks and ears, clapping with the audience who stood to applause him.
Kyros paid the bill and walked you out with his arm holding yours. As he opened the car door he looked at you with a charismatic smile, one that nearly made you swoon.
“If you would allow me, I would like to take you on another date. Perhaps to the local national park trail and enjoy a picnic?”
You hoped the smile on your face could match even a fraction of your delight. “I would love a second date.” The happiness in his smile reflected the shine in his eyes as he reached down and pressed a kiss to your temple.
“I am glad we were matched tonight, ______.”
#kyros#thunder soldier of rage Kyros#blind date event#swampstew stories#kyros x reader#swampstew bedtime stories#op kyros#one piece kyros#kryos x you#kyros x y/n#One-legged soldier Kyros
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SOMEDAY: Chapter III
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Summary:
“If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.”
Chapter I
Chapter II
“There’s a family dinner party this weekend that we need to attend.” Namjoon announced as he walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in his casual slacks. He was wearing a blue shirt tucked neatly into them with no tie and a black blazer over it all. His hair was still wet from its shower. He looked like a modern man. “It’s an annual thing in the clan. Think of it as a reunion.” He added.
He sat down on one of the barstools at the island, placing his arms on the granite surface in front of him and leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands.
“Oh.” I replied, trying to conceal how shocked I was by this news. “Where is it held?” I asked curiously after a moment.
“At the Kim Estate.” He answered. “The dinner starts around 8 and lasts until 12 midnight.”
I took another bite of my cereal as I thought about it. That didn't sound too bad at all. If I could get through it without any incidents then maybe I would have fun. If I could get through the night of acting like we’re totally in love with each other then there was no problem at all.
“I know it’s a lot. This is your first time attending a dinner with the whole family, right?” He said as if reading my mind. Of course he could. Namjoon could always read minds.
“Well, if you don’t count the reception dinner at our wedding, then yes, this will be my first dinner with the whole family.” I responded, smiling softly.
Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, but we both agreed to pretend to have feelings for each other so I think you have nothing to worry about.”
I nodded slowly, feeling a bit relieved. It’ll go fine. At least that's what I told myself. But, deep inside I had to admit, I wasn’t exactly sure how it would turn out. I mean, who knows how long these dinners last? They could last all night. And then there’d still be more events tomorrow and the next day and the next day and every day after that…
Arranged marriage really wasn’t my idea of fun.
As soon as I stepped foot in the Kim estate, I realized just how big it truly was. The mansion was almost a quarter the size of ours. It was massive. A full three story house surrounded by manicured gardens and a large circular driveway. There were two tall columns leading up to a grand double door and a small fountain standing proudly in the middle of the driveway. The gate surrounding the main lawn was open, revealing the long gravel drive stretching all the way to the doors.
“Wow…” I whispered under my breath as I watched a few servants walking around.
“Welcome home!” Jin greeted with a huge smile as soon as he spotted us.
“Hey, Jinnie.” Namjoon greeted back, patting Jin on the shoulder as we passed.
Kim Seokjin. Namjoon’s first cousin and also one of the oldest cousins in the family.
Seokjin finally looked at me. He smiled politely before gesturing for us to follow him inside the house. He opened the heavy double doors, allowing us entry.
The ballroom was enormous and the light poured in through the large glass windows that covered the walls all the way up to the ceiling, illuminating everything in it with gold.
Everyone looked so pretty. Even with the bright lights shining directly overhead.
The entire floor was a large white marble tile and the whole area was covered with elegant Persian carpets. Large vases filled with red roses and white orchids stood along the wall next to a set of glass doors leading outside to the garden.
I look at Namjoon, wondering what the hell we were doing here again. Why did it sound like he didn’t want to come? It sounded like such a hassle when he said it. But now, watching how nice the place was, looking around at all the beautiful things, made me wonder if there wasn't some kind of ulterior motive.
“You ready?” Namjoon suddenly asked as he took hold of my hand.
“What? No… I mean, yeah. Sure. Let’s go.” I mumbled as I turned away from the view outside the window, focusing on Namjoon instead.
Namjoon laughed quietly at my reply and squeezed my hand lightly before letting go.
It felt like everyone was staring. Like they were expecting something different from us. Something they couldn't quite put their finger on. Maybe it was because I wasn’t part of the clan or we were a little late. Either way, everyone seemed to be watching us, waiting for some sort of reaction. I wanted to pull my hand out of Namjoon’s grip, to hide behind him, but I didn't dare let go.
Instead, I decided to walk beside him, keeping my head low and avoiding eye contact with anyone. The only one that mattered right now was us.
“Namjoon! My son! You’re finally here!” Namjoon’s father said enthusiastically as he came towards us.
He was wearing a grey business suit with a navy blue tie and had silver glasses perched perfectly on his nose. The sight made him seem slightly intimidating but I tried to ignore those thoughts as I bowed low and shook his hand.
“And, (y/n), good to see my daughter-in-law!” His father greeted, shaking my hand before turning to his wife, “My dear! They are here.” He commented cheerily.
His wife, whose name I already forgot, smiled warmly at me and then gave her husband a pointed stare, telling him to be quiet. After a short chuckle, she turned her attention back to me. “How are you, dear? How are you settling in at the new manor?” She cooed.
“Oh well, I’m managing just fine. Everything is perfect.” I replied politely, glancing sideways at Namjoon who had yet to break character completely.
He gave me a subtle nod of approval at my answer. It seemed to appease his mother. I guess I was getting better at this pretending thing.
“That’s wonderful to hear. We must go greet the rest of our guests. We wouldn’t want to make any of them wait.” With that being said she turned on her heel and walked gracefully through the room.
“Well, you have a good rest of the night. Buffet is open till midnight. I must go, and greet the others.” Mr. Kim said as he walked past us.
“Okay, you too, father.” Namjoon replied, smiling at him, which he returned. Then, with another nod of his head and a wave of his hand he headed off towards the other side of the ballroom where a large group of people stood talking and laughing together.
Namjoon faced me once again.
“You okay?” He asked me with concern written all over his face.
I smiled and nodded.
“You sure? You don't seem to be too happy to be here.” He continued, putting his arm around my waist.
“Yes, it's just a lot to take in.” I lied quickly.
“I know.” Namjoon replied. “But you'll get used to it. Trust me.”
“Maybe you're right.” I said, smiling shyly at him. “Let's go eat dinner.”
“Sure. And please, do not get drunk again.” Namjoon added while rolling his eyes.
“I’ll be fine.” I said, frowning and shaking my head at him. “I'm an adult. I can handle it.”
“Sure you can, sweetheart.” Namjoon said before leading me into the large dining room beyond the open doorway we just went through.
The buffet was amazing. There was salmon, steak, chicken, vegetables, bread rolls and even a salad. I could hardly believe that there wasn’t going to be anything left at the end of the night. And then I looked around and saw how much food there was.
All the women dressed very nicely, looking stunning and beautiful, and the men, as well. The men all sported formal suits whereas the women looked casual enough for an evening party. The women all wore dresses and makeup, but none of it seemed to affect their beauty at all. Their makeup, hair, clothes and accessories were all immaculate. The women all spoke and laughed happily among themselves, looking as though they knew everyone there. Some even had children present or pets with them.
We finally got the food we want in the buffet and began eating. It looked delicious and I ate everything until I couldn’t feel my hands anymore. By the time everything else was finished I was stuffed like a goose. I hadn’t eaten so much in years. I sat back, panting as I stared at my plate full of food.
Namjoon chuckled softly at me before pulling my plate aside and helping himself to some of it as well. We stayed at the table like that for a little bit longer, trying to convince ourselves that it was still safe and that everything was fine. That I could manage to associate with them without any problems or worries. At least for a short while.
“Namjoon!” We heard someone say.
Namjoon and I both looked over in the direction of the voice. I recognized that voice. I immediately knew that it belonged to none other than Kim Taehyung. He was waving at us from across the room with a grin spread across his handsome face as usual.
“Hey, Taehyung!” Namjoon waved back.
Taehyung ran towards us as soon as we acknowledged him, almost tripping a couple times in his haste.
“So you two managed to actually show up.” Taehyung said between gasps for air as he finally stopped in front of us.
“Of course we did. What do you take us for?” Namjoon responded sarcastically, causing Taehyung to laugh heartily.
Taehyung was dressed in a simple black tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, accentuating the lean muscle underneath. His golden hair was slicked back and he looked like he had never been happier.
Taehyung’s gaze slid over to me. ”(y/n)! You’re here!” He exclaimed, walking up closer to us and giving me a big bear hug.
“Yeah, you too, Taehyung. Sorry we’re late.” I apologized, hugging him back, although a bit awkwardly since I wasn't used to having people close to me for so long.
Kim Taehyung. Another first cousin of Namjoon’s. One of the most eligible bachelors in the country.
Kim Taehyung, the man whom everyone wanted to marry.
“Don’t worry about it.” Taehyung replied, releasing me. “Oh, by the way, Namjoon, do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you in private.” Taehyung asked seriously, a serious expression overtaking his features.
Namjoon glanced briefly at me before nodding his agreement and standing up. “Alright.” Namjoon replied, placing his hand on my shoulder gently. “I’ll be right back.” He told me quietly, squeezing my shoulder gently before leaving.
Taehyung looked at me expectantly. “Don’t worry, it’s just business talk. It’s boring.” He reassured me when he noticed my confused look.
“Okay, I’ll just be here.” I said after a small pause.
I took a seat at the table, waiting patiently for them to come back. I felt hungry again and decided to pick up some more food by the buffet. I wondered if I could eat as much of it as I could.
After taking a bite out of the dessert, my thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat next to me. I didn’t recognize her, but she probably was one of Namjoon’s cousins that he talked about sometimes. As if on cue she cleared her throat again, drawing my attention away from the buffet.
“Could you get me another glass of champagne?” She inquired. “Can you bring me two glasses?”
What? Did I really look like a waiter?
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were one of the waitresses.” She laughed in that fake sweet voice of hers.
Well, now I remember her… Bae Joo-hyun. Her hair fell to her shoulders in smooth waves and I thought I was going to melt because of how perfect she looked.
Except, now I realized how ugly she is inside.
She looked like she didn’t give a damn about anything. She was wearing red lipstick and heavy mascara. In fact, she didn't really look all that different than how Namjoon had described her.
“Excuse me?” I replied, raising one eyebrow.
“Oh, please,” She rolled her eyes. “If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.” She finished.
I blinked slowly, confused by what she was saying to me. I honestly wasn't sure what to make of it and it was starting to piss me off. I didn't understand why she was acting like this. Was I missing something here?
Does she think I married Namjoon willingly? Does she not know this was an arranged marriage?
“It’s an arranged marriage.” I corrected her quickly. “You know that, right?” I continued. “And it isn’t my idea. So I don’t know what it is you think will happen here… But whatever it is, stop being rude about it.” I informed her. I was getting annoyed with her attitude.
“You think I’m stupid? Of course I know it’s an arranged marriage. Whatever, you’re still an outsider.” Joo-hyun commented, looking unimpressed. “There's nothing that you can do about it anyway.” She added.
“We don’t remember asking for your opinion, Joo-hyun.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up from beside me. Joo-hyun was startled for a moment by his sudden appearance but recovered quickly.
“Namjoon,” She said coolly.
“Let it go.” Namjoon said. “There is no point in bringing this into the house.” He finished firmly.
Joo-hyun glared at Namjoon angrily and turned to look at me before turning back to him.
“I’m wasting my time with you both.” Joo-hyun said before storming off. Namjoon stood silently, watching her leave.
The moment she left, he turned towards me again. He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry about that, (y/n). She can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. She doesn’t mean any harm by it. It’s just how she is.” He explained.
I nodded slightly, smiling weakly. “No worries.” I murmured, feeling kind of bad that Namjoon had to deal with her like this.
Namjoon smiled slightly before looking down at the plate on the table. He picked up the spoon and ate a few more bites of the cake. “Let’s go for a drive.” He said after finishing eating.
I stared at him in confusion. “Where?” I questioned.
“Anywhere but here. Let’s go somewhere else for a change. Somewhere peaceful where we won’t run into Joo-hyun and the others.” Namjoon suggested.
That sounded nice. “All right. Where should we go?” I asked, getting up and standing next to him.
“Somewhere far away from the mansion. Hmm,” Namjoon pondered, staring at the floor. Then, a smile appeared on his face, “how about the bay?”
I gasped, surprised by his choice of location. The place where we ate ice cream while sharing our dreams to each other. It sounded perfect.
“Great idea. Do you mind driving?” I offered, trying to hide my excitement.
“No.” Namjoon stated simply and I gave a soft smile. We left the mansion and walked out of the mansion gates until we reached the parking lot. We climbed into his car, which thankfully still smelled fresh after its last washing. The smell made me want to sleep and maybe dream about those moments again.
Chapter I
Chapter II
#bts#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#bae joohyun#reader#namjoon x reader#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x you#arranged marriage au
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Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi “Part Two”-Review
Obi-Wan takes his first steps back into a larger world in an eventful and fun second episode.
With Leia’s kidnappers tracked to the gambling world of Daiyu, Obi-Wan must relearn his street smarts to avoid capture and complete his mission. However, with a bounty on his head and Reva’s trap ready to spring, this is easier said then done.
Almost immediately after arriving on the crowded streets of Daiyu, Obi-Wan Kenobi is confronted with a familiar voice. A clone veteran extends an empty helmet and asks for any credits that he might be able to spare. For a moment, Obi-Wan takes in the shock of seeing the face of man who is a reminder of a time gone by but also of a betrayal that shattered his entire world. He hands over what he can and continues on, but the point has been made. It is impossible for Obi-Wan to escape his past.
At its best moments, “Part Two” of Obi-Wan Kenobi is about forcing our title character to confront the many things he’s tried to hide from for years. Whether it be his dealings with galactic scum and villainy, Leia’s similarities to her mother, or the crushing reveal that Anakin Skywalker is indeed alive, Obi-Wan is hounded by his former life and its violent end at every turn. And again, Ewan McGregor is a standout. Sure, there’s glimpses of the action hero charm we all love, but McGregor really excels here in his nuanced close ups. The end of episode reveal of Vader’s survival is particularly crushing and Obi-Wan’s complex swirl of emotions is one of the most stirring acting performances that the franchise has seen in half a decade. While there are definitely some areas where Obi-Wan Kenobi is a little rough around the edges, it has so far excelled in finding the emotional core of its central character and that in of itself is an achievement.
The planet of Daimyu is a strong setting for the next steps in Obi-Wan’s journey. If Canto Bight was the glitz of Las Vegas, Daimyu feels like the dodgier parts of Atlantic City. There’s panache but it’s dirty and grimy and peppered with Aurebesh neon lights. This is also where Obi-Wan Kenobi starts to show its budget a little. While each individual room or location is gorgeously designed and produced with a Star Wars style meth spice lab being a standout, there always seems to be a bit of hollowness at the periphery. Daimyu always feels only as built out as the shot requires and there isn’t the organic stretch or scale that you get from most iconic Star Wars locations.
If the world itself may at times feel hollow, at least episodic writer Joby Harold populates it with so many colorful characters. We get all manner of creatively designed aliens and bounty hunters wandering through frame and even bit parts like a young spice dealer feel underscored with history. Kumail Najiani’s hustling Haja Estree is also a fun addition to the series cast. Nanjiani has a remarkable talent for playing reprehensible comedic characters with a surprising amount of empathy and vulnerability and that is certainly the case with Haja. A con man pretending to be a Jedi feels like the right sort of foil for Obi-Wan at this point and it also helps to establish that even now the idea of a Jedi hero has some social and moral currency.
The heart of Harold’s script sits in Obi-Wan’s relationship with Leia, which naturally has a rocky start. A justifiably traumatized Leia can’t help but be suspicious of this haggard old man that has wandered to her rescue and Obi-Wan, having spent so long alone and let’s face it never being the best with kids, is overwhelmed by the headstrong girl he has been recruited to save. And while Leia coming to trust Obi-Wan has a fairly straight forward trajectory, he has a more complicated arc. Its hard not to feel emotional when Obi-Wan sees the echoes of Leia’s parents in her snark and energy. Leia not only represents one of the many path’s for the galaxy’s future but one of the most tangible connections to some of the most important people in his life and the more this is teased out the more the old Obi-Wan starts to bubble to the surface. Sure, there was no doubt that he would reach out and save a tumbling Leia with the Force, but for a character who has remained so severed from the wider world and his duty for so long, it represents a moment of acceptance and strength for a man that may have lost his way.
And we close with the burnt eyes of Leia’s father. In case you somehow didn’t know, Darth Vader is in this series and he won’t be staying in that bacta tank for long.
Also, uh, is the Grand Inquisitor dead? What’s up with that? How many times has this guy died? I’m so intrigued. And confused.
Score: B+
#Star Wars#Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi#review#reviews#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Obi-Wan spoilers#Deborah Chow#Ewan McGregor
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Replacing Guilt: the dark world (2)
Work hard/effectively; play hard.
You don't need to carry a grim demeanor to draw strength from seeing the dark world. It's quite possible to deeply want the world to be different than it is, and tap into a deep well of cold resolve, and still also be curious, playful, and relaxed in turn.
This isn't a story, and we don't need to pretend to archetypes.
In fact, I encourage you to break [narrative] tropes as soon as you realize that you're acting them out. (1)
Many people seem to have this internal grim-o-meter which measures how grim the state of the world is, and they dutifully try to keep this calibrated. ... they maybe even feel guilty if they can't feel appropriately grim for appropriately long.
it's good to have a grim-o-meter, but stop calibrating it against the state of the world. That's a terrible plan!
And what if you could? Would your grim-o-meter always be set to "maximum grimness," at least until humanity makes it through the gauntlet? That doesn't sound very fun or useful. Would you rather calibrate the grim-o-meter so that it adequately captures the normal range of variance in the human condition over your lifetime? Because then your grimness is likely to fluctuate wildly in response to events that have little relevance to your daily life (such as aggregate demand shocks in China). That also doesn't sound very fun or useful.
Feeling grim or carefree in proportion to the aggregate disparity or well-being on the planet is difficult, impractical, and mostly useless.
Your grim-o-meter is designed for local occasions. You need to get more grim (and more buckled down) as the work immediately in front of you gets harder, (1)
^Like guilt, grimness isn’t useful as a chronic state.
The resolve is a useful source of motivation, but you don't need to adopt a permanently grim demeanor in order to wield it. In fact, personal effectiveness is all about having the right demeanor at the right time. (1)
Stop struggling against the bad news. Treat it not as bad news about how reality went, but rather treat it as you would treat information about where in the multiverse you ended up. Try being a new homunculus. Look around you and figure out where you just landed, regardless of where past you thought they should have landed. [That place may] be in worse shape than past-you was expecting, but that has little bearing on what you do next ...
Your observations are not messages that the world is full of terrible unfair luck. Your observations are simply indicators as to where you are.
Spoiler alert, you're currently located in a fairly precarious portion of the multiverse, where sentient beings are suffering and dying, and the future is hanging by a thread. It's worth cleaning this place up a bit, I think. But don't suffer about the poor state of affairs!
... you've ended up in the same part of the multiverse as I have. It is fairly nice, as parts of the multiverse go: it supports life, and things are better now than they were in many of the past points along our timeline. Nevertheless, it does look a bit precarious, and it sure does need some tidying up. So, let's get to work!
^If friendship is built on commonality, then in a sense, every member of humanity is our friend - we all share the confusion/anxiety of living in a 21st century world, which changes at a pace that evolution did not prepare us for.
We share something in common with sentient species/animals, too. We’re able to experience pain + suffering.
---
If you have an excuse prepared, you will be tempted to fall back on it. An excuse makes failure more acceptable, in some way. It's a license to fail.
If you really need to succeed on a task, then I suggest that you resolve to refuse to excuse your failure, in the event that you do fail.
I suggest, don't try to excuse bad luck. ... Don't say that life was unfair. You're welcome to say "I'm sorry, I made a bet and I lost. I'd make the bet again, though, knowing what I did then." Then you're still owning the choice. You're owning the failure, which is the important part. Only by owning the failure can you hope to adjust and do better next time ...
Refuse to have excuses. ... Only then, without expected social protection, do you really start trying to figure out how to win. (3)
^Let others assume you're performing at your best, and let that expectation fuel you.
Work slack into your plans:
If you did work a lot of extra slack into your plans, and you still got burned anyway by extraordinary circumstances, ... you are welcome to answer "I took a gamble and I lost, and I'd take the same gamble again at the same odds.”
If you didn't work in the necessary leeway, then you're allowed to say "I'm sorry, I messed up." ... "and I learned something, and I will do better next time," ... (3)
When trying to understand your failures, it's important to figure out what you could have done better, rather than generating a list of reasons you never could have won. If there were unforeseen circumstances, understand why you couldn't foresee them. ... learn how to either address that next time or work it into your expectations.
I have noticed that my friends often help me try to excuse myself, for one reason or another, and I think that giving in to this pressure can be harmful.
Excuses rob you of your agency. Yes, many people will try to get excuses out of you, if they perceive you as putting too much pressure on yourself. But that pressure is precisely the impetus to learn and adapt, and if you can bear it, then I suggest you do.
There are situations where failing to generate excuses will cost you socially, ... In refusing to generate an excuse when everyone else is doing so, you violate some unspoken pact of mediocrity. ... [but] they provide a wonderful opportunity for self-signaling that you will refuse to excuse your actions even under intense social pressures.
Note, too, that in many other situations, refusing to generate excuses gains you [social status]. Yes, there are places where people view refusal to generate an excuse as a violation of the solemn pact of mediocrity, but I have found that the people I can gain most from dealing with, are by and large people who have a deep appreciation and respect for those who live up to their errors. (3)
if "find the failure in yourself" feels bad or destructive at the moment for any other reason, then please ignore this post. But if you are done with guilt motivation, ... then I strongly suggest that you have no excuses.
Find the flaws inside yourself. Don't tolerify them. Accept them, and plan ways to address or route around them.
... play to win. Don't play to excuse your loss. You don't need to win every time — but you do need to learn every time. (3)
An explanation of how you couldn't possibly have seen this coming is a social device, ... It's fine to play that social game; social games occasionally need to be played. But first, figure out how you could have actually seen that thing coming, next time. That's the important part.
Excuses are a social artifact, a way to ensure that you don't lose face when you fail. But we're not here to win a social game.
In the end, you won't be measured by how good your excuses were for all the things that didn't turn out the way you wanted. You'll be judged only by what actually happens (as will we all). (3)
Detach the grim-o-meter
Simply locate yourself
Have no excuses
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awwwwwwww, are we really pretending that a colonialist machine for violence being “””””””””””””””””””””infiltrated””””””””””””””””” by white supremacists is shocking :’((((((((
#nori noises#lmao ''cant believe the military allows white supremacists!''#bruh the military exists to invade other countries & kill off Others & take advantage of poor people#but sure!!! lets pretend this turn of events is the least bit shocking
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Will You Punish Me If I Don’t? — Jeon Wonwoo
request: a lil drunk reader × possessive wonu angry sex pls
tags: fem and brat!reader, dom!wonwoo, edging, semi-public sex, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), a tiiiiiny bit of light degradation and spit kink, unprotected sex (stay safe), wall sex (oh yes you read that right), a whole lot of dirty talk, JEON WONWOO IN A CROP TOP BYE, established jeon wonwoo x reader
a/n: this took me a whole fucking day to write it 💀 i think my soul left my body on the meantime and now i’m just a spirit,, but i love this so much, pls, possessive wonu is one of the biggest moods ever 🥵 also i’m sure i made a lot of stupid grammar mistakes that i didn’t realize even after proof reading it, so you’re just gonna,, pretend you don’t see those :)) i hope you enjoy, i made this with all my heart JDJSJDJS
word count: 6244
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You know very well you’re being annoying and petty today.
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You both have been on this damn party for a while and you tried to get Wonwoo to leave and fuck you for at least five times now. You tried dirty dancing on the dance floor; nope. You tried sitting on his lap when he was talking to his friends; nope. You even tried to make out with him; but it only had lasted for a few minutes.
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It had you even more horny and angry. And that is never a good combination when it comes to you.
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But can people really blame you when Wonwoo is looking that good? You have been making a great amount of effort not to stare too much at Wonwoo’s abs peeking from his black cropped shirt, the sharpness of his V-line more visible than it should be legally allowed — it’s bad for your poor heart after all. But you do a poor job of hiding how the whole outfit affects you, because Wonwoo was looking and he had this known glint swimming inside his eyes and it’s got you licking your lips.
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But still, he didn’t do anything.
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Well, not until you used your last resort.
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Your mind threw back to the memory of Wonwoo’s big hand resting on your inner thigh earlier when you were sitting in his lap, the veins in the back of his palm tracing a dirty path up to his forearms. And there’s always a strength, even a possessiveness in the way he holds you, his other hand squeezing a little hard against your waist, grip tightening every time someone stares at you for a second too long. There’s something so raw in the way he acts, like it’s almost unconscious, and it turns you on without a doubt.
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No matter how you looked at other people and tried to rile him up, Wonwoo still remained in his stupid composed behavior, this little acts being the only proof of his jealousy.
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But not tonight. Tonight you were going to make him snap, no matter what. You were gonna make him fuck you rough and fast and give you as many orgasms as you wanted.
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Oh, but you were so wrong. Things totally backfired at you.
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You started by going into the dance floor again, after a few shots of some liquid courage. Swaying your hips at the beat, you tried your best to throw sultry looks at where he was sitting — manspreading, your brain unfortunately added, because he looked so hot doing that — in one of the sofas, eyes set on you like you’re the only thing that he could ever look at.
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You smirked, pleased with his reaction, before proceeding with your plan. Hands reaching forward, you touched the shoulder of the first guy you saw in front of you. It doesn’t take long for him to turn around and smile. He seemed genuinely nice, so you felt a little bad for using him to make your boyfriend jealous, but when you looked at him the guilt disappeared in two seconds.
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His head was hung low, eyebrows frown and fists clenched in where he supported his arms on the sofa. You winked at him and clearly saw how he seemed to almost visibly snarl at your teasing, knowing very well what was your intent with all of that; Wonwoo looked at you like he was about to consume you whole in front of everyone just to prove who you belonged to — and you felt your legs tremble at the idea of that.
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It was a game to see who would give in first; you to your frustration and horniness or Wonwoo to his possessives and jealousy. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the both of you shooting daggers into each other, especially when you turned your back to the guy and swayed your hips obscenely for him.
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But it was when he put his hand on your waist and glued his lips to your ear that things started taking a turn of events; in the next second, Wonwoo was standing right beside you. The air grew thicker quickly, and your breath was knocked out of you at the sight of your — very pissed off and very hot — boyfriend looking down at you.
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“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo’s voice had rang through your ears, loud enough to make you mewl softly even through all the music going on in the background.
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“Dancing?” you asked with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. Wonwoo groaned, grabbing your wrist.
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“Um,” the guy from before started. “I think I should be going now?”
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He waited for an answer, but you and Wonwoo were too busy looking at each other intensively to even care, so he cleared his throat and left.
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“Let’s go,” he stated simply, pulling at you through the crowd so you both could go outside. You giggle a little when you trip on your foot, a bit tipsy with the shots you took.
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And that’s how you find yourself currently being guided until you were both right in front of his car. Your mouth opens, ready to make a clever comment that would surely rile him up and give in to what you want, before he turns around and gets all over your personal space, so suddenly that the words get stuck in your throat. The scent of his cedarwood cologne invades your lungs, sending your mind into a little haze.
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“What were you thinking, letting another man touch you?” Wonwoo says, voice rough and firm, lips pressed into a thin line like he was still holding something back.
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And you don’t want him to.
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“You took too long, and I have needs,” you retort, stepping up into his space too, not wanting to back down even when the sight of Wonwoo’s dark, dark eyes bleeding with lust made a very noticeable shiver run down your spine.
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“What kind of need would even make you want to rub yourself all over someone else that—” he stops himself, closing his mouth before groaning, annoyed. You smirk at him, knowing what he was going to say.
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All over someone else that isn’t me.
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“Hmm, let me see,” you giggle, face centimeters apart from his, your breaths mingling with each other. “A need to get fucked hard, for starters.”
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The intensity of his gaze growing exponentially dark wipes the smile off your face in seconds. You try not to gulp when he scoffs, taking one messy step back when he takes one further.
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“So that’s what this is about?” Wonwoo questions, tone suddenly mean and sarcastic, and there’s heat licking and pooling at your lower belly faster than you expected. His deep voice never fails to leave you trembling. “You’re so desperate to get railed that you couldn’t even wait to get home before throwing yourself at some random dude.”
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Your cheeks tint red in shame and arousal, realizing this wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation, like he knows exactly how horny you are, and you try to remain composed. You are not going to give up until he loses it.
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“Maybe,” you say, a single finger trailing through his torso distractingly, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you look at his abs peeking from behind his cropped. Wonwoo’s face hardens at that, and you smile internally in victory. “Why? Are you jealous, baby?”
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He laughs, throwing his head back, but it only serves to make you even more satisfied. That’s exactly the reaction you expected him to have.
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“You’re drunk,” Wonwoo answers instead, and you think it’s endearing how he denies so hard that he’s not possessive.
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“Nope,” you press your finger in his chest again, but he doesn’t even buge from the place. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, licking your lips and watching Wonwoo’s eyes zeroing in the action. “A little bit tipsy? Yes. But drunk? Not at all.”
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Suddenly, you back away, trying to ignore the way your body protests against the lack of warmth, the lack of Wonwoo.
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“So if you’re not jealous, then you wouldn’t mind me getting off with someone else, right?” you trail off, feeling proud of yourself when he looks at you like you just made something emerge from the ground with psychic powers.
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“What?” he asks, tone furious, and you jump a little in place with the intensity of it, but soon recovers with a pout.
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“I mean,” you start, acting like you’re not saying the biggest stupid thing you could ever think of saying, shrugging at him. Of course it was all a lie, there’s no way you’ll ever want someone else other than Wonwoo. “You’re always telling me to wait and wait and wait, so if you’re not that jealous, then maybe I should get someone else to fuck me when you can’t.”
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Wonwoo moves so fast your brain takes a time to understand what he just did; in a second you were standing with your glorious bratty attitude, the next you were pushed against the car, one hand squeezing your jaw tight in place and the other holding your wrists behind your back. His bigger and broader body pins yours against the door, and you have a hard time breathing now.
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Now that’s a way to sober up.
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“No,” he grits out, sounding more like a growl than an actual word. Your heart is hammering like crazy against your chest, and you gasp softly when he pushes your jaw backwards until the back of your head hits the car, neck exposed for him. “No one should be allowed to touch you like this. No one but me. No one.”
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Then Wonwoo bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so hard you think the mark is gonna be there for days. You moan at that, hips kicking and shocking with Wonwoo’s.
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“You know nobody could fuck you like I do,” he says, sounding smug but also dead serious, and this cocky side of his during such moments never fails to make you wet.
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You inhale, reuniting the fight there’s still in you. To be honest the only thing that makes you still retort back is the alcohol. It gives you a special ability of not being able to shut up.
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“I guess someone else will have to fuck me so I can believe you.”
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You watch his demeanor change instantly at that; shoulders tensing, jaw clenching and predatory eyes — Wonwoo kisses the breath out of you. He sucks at your body lip, licking at the seam of your mouth, and you gasp, mouth parting and his tongue slides against yours. There’s a hot flash rushing all over you as your body pulses with want; Wonwoo has always been a great kisser, capable of surrendering you putty in his hands.
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He kisses you again and again and again, as if someone might take you away. He kisses you like he wants to carve his identity in your soul. He kisses you so messy and hungry that your teeth actually clack and the sounds of your lips dragging roughly and tongues rubbing against each other fills the air around you.
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Wonwoo can probably taste the alcohol, if the way he moans is anything to go by.
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It is dirty, lewd and so fucking hot you feel the fight leaving your body momentarily along with your breath, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. There are a few tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and you don’t even realize their presence, but then, and only then, Wonwoo pulls away. He bites at your lower lip one more time, a lewd string of saliva connecting your mouths for a short while before it breaks.
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“Seems like you suddenly forgot who’s name you scream when you’re getting railed,” Wonwoo tells you, voice poisonous and labored breath caressing the skin of your neck. “Should I remind you?”
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“Y-yes,” you moan out, enjoying the proposal, but it only serves to make Wonwoo scoff.
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“I think you need to learn how to respect me first,” he says instead, and there’s butterflies swarming together in your belly, chest still heaving for air.
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“Will you punish me if I don’t?” you retort, staring him right back in the eyes.
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Wonwoo growls.
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“You better shut the fuck up before I make you regret,” he says, and you feel a shiver rocking so bad on your body that your hips collide into Wonwoo’s, his half hard cock pressing against your stomach. The feeling makes you moan.
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“Why would I?” you ask, trembling voice giving away how much this all affects you. “I want this.”
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There’s a bit of silence before you continue.
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“Make me regret.”
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“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans, biting on your neck again, this time so far up that you won’t be able to hide it that easily. “So needy you can’t even think about anything else other than having a cock drilling into you.”
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Wonwoo kisses your moan away, sucks at your bottom lip until it’s swollen. Then, he puts three fingers in your mouth, like he’s telling you to shut up.
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Wonwoo turns his head to look down at your shuddering frame trapped between the side of the car and him. You don’t look up, too focused on sucking at his long fingers, but when Wonwoo starts to move his arm that was occupied by your mouth, you stir, and look up to meet his eyes.
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They’re dark, with a glint in them you could only recognize as devious and wicked and so so so mean. It’s the same glint he gets when he’s about to deal out a punishment, or tease you enough that you believe it’s a punishment. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, and a bead of sweat drips from your eyebrow. You wonder what you’ve got yourself in for the night when you both get home.
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As if on cue, answering your arousal hazed thoughts, the hand that was slowly doing a dangerous path down your body settles itself on the front of your pants. It’s heavy on your clit, and you can feel Wonwoo digging his fingers into your entrance. You barely have the sense to react, and even if you could, you reminded yourself you weren’t home yet. Wonwoo now has his hand groping your pussy in public.
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Your face flushes a dark red at the realization, feeling humiliated and embarrassed under Wonwoo’s grip. If someone were to see, they’d get arrested for sure. Wonwoo’s hand has a strong grip on your clit, fingers quickly slipping past the thick fabric of your denim jeans and lace panties so he could press the pad of it against your naked and wet folds.
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You whine quietly, and now that the hold on your jaw has been set loose, you nestle your face further into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. With a grip on Wonwoo’s jacket, you feel him angling his head so it rests against the top of your head.
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“Wait, f-fuck, someone might see us!” you whisper-yell at him, but Wonwoo only hums and steps in closer. Your chests are flush together and he towers over your frame easily enough to hide you between him and the car. “Wonwoo—”
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Your sentence gets interrupted by your own moan when he presses a finger inside of you. You quiver, legs trembling, and you let the realization that Wonwoo is about to finger you publicly sink into your stomach. You know that the streets are deserted and there’s not one single soul around there since it’s so late, but the thought of it still has you gasping.
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“Wait? But weren’t you the one complaining about me making you wait all the time?” Wonwoo bites back, tone mean and unforgiving when he fucks his finger inside of you. He sounds almost angry and it’s making you so damn horny. “Earlier you were looking at me with such a hunger. I bet you were thinking about me fucking you in front of everyone, weren’t you, baby?”
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You moan because yes, that was exactly what you were thinking. His hand lets go of your wrists when he adds another finger inside of you. It burns a little, you think, but enjoys the pain as your arms fly up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. Wonwoo goes easily, mouth finding yours and fingers fucking inside you in a way that has you squirming.
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He soon gives attention to your neck, kissing all over it before sucking a wet blotch against the skin right underneath your jaw. Wonwoo pulls away, looking at it for a while like it gives him some sort of feral satisfaction to see you bearing one of his marks.
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“Wonwoo, I’m n-not—” your words break off into a whine, struggling to form sentences. “Not— g-gonna be able to hide the, ah, hickey i-if you suck it that far up.”
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“Good,” Wonwoo says, and his mouth finds your neck. You scratch his scalp when he sucks again, this time harder, his arm coming to help you up when your legs give in. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. Only mine to fuck, to breed, to love, to cherish, to make you my little slut.”
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You throw your head, back arching off of the car and mouth opening to let a high pitched moan scape you. Wonwoo then adds another finger, the third one, and gyrates them so hard inside you you actually feel like you’re seeing stars, figuratively and realistically — the night sky above you is adorned with a few of them.
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“Acting like a brat and riling me up like that, this is what you wanted, isn’t that right, princess?” Wonwoo spits out, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s getting more and more angry at his own words. “If I didn’t stop you right there, would you have continued dancing with that dude, huh? Would you maybe have made out with him?”
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You try to answer, maybe tease him back again, but you can’t even form a coercive sentence. The only thing you can do is hold onto Wonwoo like your life depends on it as he fucks you furiously with his fingers, and take whatever he’s willing to give it to you.
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“Do you think he could finger you like this?” Wonwoo says poisonously, hand squeezing at your ass hard enough that you think it’s gonna leave the print of his fingers. “Think he would have a bigger cock than mine?”
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He ruts against you as if to prove his point, hard and so fucking big it has you breathless. You know how your boyfriend is well-endowed, know he could make you feel him for days after a good fuck and your mouth salivates. Wonwoo presses the pad of his fingers in your sweet spot, jamming against it without pulling out with quick movements, and you feel like you’re going insane.
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“Since you put a lot of effort into being a fucking brat today, I will give you what you want, sweetheart,” Wonwoo laughs a little, almost as if he’s mocking you, and your whole face burns in pleasurable humiliation. “I’m gonna be rough. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast against every surface of our house, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows you belong to me, gonna use you, make you my little ragdoll and dump you full of my cum until you’re all heavy and swollen with it.”
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“Wonwoo— your f-fuck, fucking dirty mouth, ah—” you thrash in his grip, nestling your face further into his neck and he knew, he knew all along what was your intention with the way you were acting, and you hold tight on his hair, hearing him growl when you pull at it. “I’m gonna come. Gonna cum s-so fucking hard, fuck—”
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“I’ll make it hurt,” Wonwoo warns, his lips ghosting at the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, brings goosebumps all over it. “But I’ll make it feel good.”
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The pleasure builds quickly and you throw your head back with a loud moan, orgasm almost hitting you like a train.
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But then, everything stops. Wonwoo pulls away, fingers slipping out of you and he wipes them in his jeans. He then goes through his pocket and grabs the car keys, the familiar beep sound echoing through the empty streets when he clicks a button on the key chain, and it’s got you completely dumbfounded.
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“Come on, get in the car, baby,” Wonwoo states simply, like he didn’t just make the best orgasm of your life ebb away. Frustration sinks deep within your bones and you groan, turning to look at him like he just committed a war crime.
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“Why did you— why did you stop?” you question, heart almost jumping out of your chest and you feel like you’re going to actually die if you don’t get to come soon. “I was just there!”
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“Oh, sweetheart,” Wonwoo coos at you like he finds what you just said endearing. Face flushing dark red, you get completely embarrassed with how quick he makes you feel small. “You thought I was going to make you cum?”
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Wonwoo comes closer, holds your chin softly, a total contrast to what he says then.
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“Poor baby, I’m actually going to do the exact opposite.” he pecks your lips once. “Gonna edge you until you cry.”
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He goes around the car and opens the door for you.
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“Now get in, baby. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Wonwoo says, tone leaving no room for arguments, and you gulp before obeying.
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Wonwoo closes the door for you when you finish settling yourself inside, and goes to the driver’s seat. You watch him turn the car on as you put your seatbelt, whining when your cunt throbs in need. When he starts driving you try your best to move as quietly as you can, squirming a little until you can smooth your fingers through your clit. You gyrate them once, pleasure swarming all over your body, before Wonwoo’s voice wakes you up from your short haze.
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“No touching yourself,” he admonishes with a tsk and you groan, frustrated. He’s still looking at the road and you don’t even know how he managed to figure it out that you were touching yourself.
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Staring out of the window, your thighs rub together every time the car shakes a little. Your mind supplies unnecessary images of your boyfriend fucking you, and you curse a little. Even trying to imagine disgusting things wouldn’t delete Wonwoo’s words from earlier out of your head, and you’re getting more and more excited by the second.
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“Wonwon…” you sigh, almost a whisper, hips moving in the air and hands coming to grab at one of your breasts. You smirk, content when you hear him growl.
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“I said not to touch yourself,” Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. “Should I tie you up in our bed and leave you untouched or are you going to start obeying me?”
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“But you’re not doing anything,” you whine, wanting nothing else then to come.
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“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Wonwoo says, voice low and dead serious.
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“I don’t think you know either.”
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The car comes to a complete stop right after you say that. You gulp, realizing Wonwoo has already parked in your private garage. He gets out of the car and goes to your side, opening the door, still in complete silence.
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“Turn this way,” he orders, voice one octave lower, and you gasp at the roughness of it. “Now.”
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You spring into action, take your seatbelt off, doing as you’re told, and as soon as you finish turning to him with your legs outside of the car, he gets on his knees.
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“W-Wonwoo,” it’s the only thing you manage to say as you watch him work with your pants after taking your shoes off. He ends up popping the button off but you don’t have it in you to complain, not when he’s looking like that.
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Wonwoo finishes taking your jeans off, throwing somewhere in the garage, and then he grabs at both sides of the collar of your shirt. You frown, confused with the action, but then his hands are pulling, and he rips it in half.
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“Wonwoo,” you moan, beyond turned on as he does the same to your penties. Your clothes are torn apart but you can’t think of anything else other than fuck me fuck me fuck me. “I—”
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Wonwoo kisses you shut, lips dragging hard against yours, and you feel his hands at your thighs before he pulls at them enough so that you slip on your seat. He uses the grip to open your legs for him, not even giving you a break to understand what’s going on before sucking on your clit hard.
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Your back arches, hands scrambling to hold on something — one of them finds the steering wheel and the other finds the wadding of the seat, body thrashing everywhere before Wonwoo pins your hips down in place — knows better than to shove his face in your cunt as you originally wanted to do.
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He licks between your folds one, two, three times; the tip of his tongue prods inside your already loose entrance, and fuck if you didn’t moan, high pitched and greedy for more. Wonwoo inserts more of it until his nose is pressed against your clit, doing a sound in the back of his throat that sends just right. The wetness of his tongue feels so good pressing against your cores and kicking at your soft folds.
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“W-Wonwoo, fuck— f-feels so good—” Wonwoo thrusts his tongue inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars, especially when he presses just right. “Ah! Shit, your f-fucking tongue—”
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Wonwoo has to hold you down tighter, your body unable to stay put as you thrash around. You feel tempted to think how your neighbors could probably hear you, but your boyfriend is sucking the life out of you through your pussy and you can’t concentrate well enough to elaborate the thought.
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It’s when Wonwoo curls his tongue just right that has you thinking you would ascend to heaven soon.
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“Fuck! I, ah— Wanna cum, Wonwon, I’m coming, please— let me cum this time,” you manage to get out, writhing and legs kicking everywhere. “Please!”
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But, of course Wonwoo, being the little shit he is, pulls away. Tears gather in your eyes as you groan out of frustration, and Wonwoo is just so mean.
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“Shit—” you cry out, watching his shit eating grin. You hate but love at the same time the way he’s absolutely enjoying seeing you so desperate for a release. “Y-you’re so mean.”
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“Are you gonna stop being a brat now?” Wonwoo raises a brow at you, licking his lips. You shiver, knowing that he’s tasting you by the pleased hum he makes after.
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“Fuck you,” you spit it out, too horny and angry to care.
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“Is that so?” he hums, looking at you as if you’re his prey, to which you’re starting to believe you actually are. “Maybe I should put a gag in this dirty little mouth of yours.”
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Wonwoo traces a thumb in your lower lip like he’s considering the thought.
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“But I think I’m just gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”
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You can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the comment before he pulls on your wrist so hard you get up from the seat, body colliding into his. Wonwoo’s mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and hungry and angry, to the point it makes your legs weak. Your hands scramble to take his shirt off right after you manage to throw his belt somewhere, and you stop for a moment to admire the hard planes of his abs.
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Wonwoo must be the hottest person alive. How can someone have such a handsome face and have a body that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods? He’s getting stronger with his gym practices and it's making you weak.
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“You might actually drool if you keep staring like that,” Wonwoo says, half joking and half serious, but you blush anyways.
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“Just—” you try, breath labored and chest heaving. “J-just rail me. Use me.”
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“Yeah? Want me to treat you like the slut you are?” his lewd question makes you tremble and nod your head. “Speak.”
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“Y-yes, please—” you beg, revolve slowly breaking in.
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“Of course you do,” he answers, voice a few octave lowers again, and he grabs a fistful of your hair. Wonwoo pulls at it until your head is thrown back, his face right above yours. “Open your mouth.”
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You’re quick to obey, mouth parting as he hovers over you, the only thing keeping you up is one of his arms around your waist.
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And oh god, you’re certainly not expecting when he fucking spits into your mouth, a hand coming to press against your jaw and make you close your lips, but you sure as hell want him to do it again.
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“Swallow.” Wonwoo orders, and you moan, doing as you’re told. He looks at you with a feral satisfaction, eyes dark and so full of hunger it stunts you into silence. It’s like there’s this lustful wish of him to break you in until you don’t belong to anyone else but him, and that’s so fucking hot.
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He kisses you for what feels like the hundredth time — not that you’re complaining, he could kiss you for one hundred more and you’d still beg for it. But this time there’s something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your thighs when he finishes taking his clothes off and fish something from the pocket of his pants, hefting you up in the air, your legs circling around his waist automatically.
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Wonwoo doesn’t break the messy kiss as he walks through the garage, opening the door that leads to the inside of the house. He doesn’t waste time before slamming you into it as soon as he closes it, your back hitting the wooden frame with a loud thud as the two of you make out like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.
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There’s too much tongue and too much spit and too much teeth, but the dirtiness of it all is what makes it even more hot.
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“Want you,” you whine out, realizing that what Wonwoo took out of his pants earlier was a package of lube.
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He rips at the top and pours at his hands, reaching behind you to stroke his hard cock, groaning at the feeling as he lines up with your entrance. The wet head nudges your rim softly, but it slips through your folds. You look at Wonwoo only to realize he’s already staring at you, devious glint in his eyes.
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You’re about to tell him to hurry up when a moan is punched out of you, high pitched and needy, because Wonwoo fucked his cock inside you in one go, nearly knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your nails scratch all over his back and he groans at the feeling, hips kicking into you.
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“You like that?” he questions, rhetorically of course, and grinds his hips until they are flushed against your ass. You gasp for air, feeling full to the brim, and the burn in your cunt is just so good. “Think I don’t know about your little plans to rile me up?”
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Wonwoo even has the audacity to laugh, jamming inside you with slow but deep thrusts.
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“How you get more handsy with your friends when I’m around,” he grits out, anger bleeding through his thoughts and thrusts like he just hates the idea of you touching more intimately other people. “And you look at me with those eyes. Like you’re begging me to claim you.”
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Holy fuck, Jeon Wonwoo is fucking you standing up and you’re not dreaming.
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Wonwoo is full on mercilessly ramming you now, sending you body into the door with every plunge of his cock, the sound of your back hitting the wood obscenely loud. It leaves you putty, can just take what he’s giving you, hands holding him for dear life.
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“Should’ve put you on your knees right in front of that guy,” Wonwoo continues, breath ragged from effort. “Make you choke on my cock so he knows who you belong to.”
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Wonwoo grabs your ass with his hands, palms sinking into the flash as he propels you back every time he fucks up. It makes the drag of his thickness press right through all the good spots.
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“Should’ve bent you over the bar counter and fucked you hard until you scream my fucking name,” he growls out, the veins on his neck and arms bulging. You tighten around him in answer to the sinful view. “Fuck, your pussy is so greedy. Always so tight—”
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Wonwoo angles his hips just right and hits against your sweet spot so suddenly that your climax — which was already at bay — escalates quickly to the point it sends your mind into a frenzy.
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And, for the third time, Wonwoo slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose. Your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long for them to run down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably.
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“So beautiful,” Wonwoo groans at the sight of you crying for him, pecking one of your tears strained cheek. “I’ve broken you in, haven’t I?”
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“P-please, Wonwon— Please, please, please let me c-come,” you sob, all the want to be a brat gone from your body. The overwhelming need grows so exponentially big inside of you you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t orgasm. “W-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—”
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Wonwoo is moaning, louder than he has all day, and the satisfaction of seeing you give up on your fight and beg for him makes his hips pick up a brutal pace. You gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.
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“So pretty when you beg,” he compliments, and you actually find surprising your ability to blush even when you’re being dicked down this good. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”
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“Y-yes— Ah! Hmmm, shit—” you mumble, struggling to get words out. It’s difficult to keep your voice steady enough to say anything with the way you’re bouncing like a ragdoll on Wonwoo’s hold. “Love this— L-love you, ruin me, Wonwoo, Wonwon—”
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Wonwoo pulls your head backward with a fistful of your hair, baring your neck so that he could attack it with bites and hickeys all over. You’re sure that, by the end of this night, you’re going to be looking like some type of sexual Christmas tree, but the thought of baring your boyfriend’s marks after sex only turns you on. And he seems pretty intent on that, wanting to claim you in all ways possible.
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“Say it,” Wonwoo commands, but you don’t understand, can’t understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. He fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. “Say you’re mine.”
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“Y-yours,” you answer, fingers intertwining through Wonwoo’s dark strands of hair. “I’m yours.”
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“Again,” Wonwoo growls out, basking in your pleads and moans and screams of pleasure.
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“Yours,” you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. You have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.
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“Again,” his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. “Say it again.”
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“Yours, ah!” a moan breaks at the end of the word, Wonwoo’s thrusts getting rougher, faster and there’s heat pooling down on your lower stomach. “I’m y-yours, all yours, only yours.”
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“Yes, mine,” Wonwoo agrees, holding your smaller frame tightly against his. “Mine,” he echoes again, muscles trembling from fucking you standing up.
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Wonwoo kisses you, the best he can with the harsh movement of your body going up and down on his cock.
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“I love you so much,” he tells you, voice soft and rough at the same time. “I have always been only yours.”
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“I’m gonna come, I’m g-going to— going to come,” you state after his words, the pull on your lower stomach growing impossibly higher, and it’s almost unbearable. “Please, fuck, please l-let— cum— let m-me cum! I have been g-good, please, Wonwon—”
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”Such a good girl for me. The best girl,” Wonwoo praises, angling his hips a little so he can press his cockhead against your sweet spot every time he fucks inside. “Come on, you can cum, sweetheart.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your eyes roll so far back in your head you’re momentarily afraid they are never coming back. White hot pleasure surges in your body, the sheer intensity of your high sends your mind into a mess. The feeling of your walls clenching like a vice around Wonwoo’s cock sends him over the edge too, and the sensation of his cum shooting inside your walls only serves to add up to what you think it’s the best orgasm of your life, mind going completely blank.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
This might have been totally different from what you’ve originally planned but you know what? You’re definitely going to use this plan more often now.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen imagine#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo#wonwoo imagine#svt imagines#jeon wonwoo#seventeen x reader#possessive wonwoo coming to destroy everyone#including me#svt smut#jeon wonwoo smut
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(I'm sorry not sorry. Interior Designer Eddie has me in such a chokehold.)
I
“What’s the difference between Autumn Breeze and Whispers of Apple?”
Buck crouches down so he’s eye-level with Christopher. “They’re exactly the same, Chris.”
“What?”
“Yep.”
“So how come Dad keeps making that face?”
Buck returns his attention to Eddie, who has the two candles in his hands. He sniffs one, nods to himself, takes a huff from the ziplock bag full of coffee grinds to cleanse his palette, and then sniffs the other. This repeats several more times. Buck thinks it’s absolutely the most ridiculous thing he has ever seen another human being do. He loves it.
“It’s all about his process,” Buck says, and can’t keep the mocking edge out of his voice even if he wants to. “You know this.”
“Buck,” Eddie calls, pinning a narrowed eye on him over his shoulder. “I can feel your judgement.”
Chris fails to suppress a giggle behind his hand and Buck raises his palms in a gesture of innocence. “I’m not. I swear.”
“If you’re going to be an idiot, then at least be a useful idiot and tell me which one you like better.”
Buck is familiar with this dance. He’ll pretend the candles don’t smell exactly the same, do eeny meeny miney moe in his head, and offer his opinion, and Eddie will furrow his eyebrows like he’s trying to uncover the rationale behind Buck’s choice, and ultimately ignore Buck’s input. It’s exhausting and endearing and a swirling conglomerate of emotions Buck has never experienced before.
“Keep in mind the other stuff I bought today,” Eddie instructs as Buck and Chris stop beside him. “Make sure it all fits, you know?”
Buck blinks at him. This side of Eddie is an eternally novel discovery. “Fits?”
“Yeah. Fits. With the whole . . .” Eddie gesticulates wildly around him, can’t find the words he’s looking for, settles on, “Theme.”
Buck rolls his eyes. “You submit pictures to a Home & Decor magazine one time . . .”
“Buck. Stop jawing and sniff.”
So Buck sniffs, and he pretends to consider, and he ignores the way the citrus-woodsy scent of Eddie’s body wash ignites his brain more than the candles. “I like Whispers of Apple.”
And in a shocking turn of events, Eddie says, “Me, too. Let’s go.”
A melodramatic groan unburdens itself from Christopher’s chest. “Finally.”
Eddie’s face pinches in as he steps behind his exceedingly full cart. Buck chuckles and picks Chris up, feeling the strain on his back as he gives him a piggy-back ride. He wonders how many more shopping trips he has until Chris is too big for piggy-back rides.
Buck takes Chris to the car while Eddie checks out. They’re already buckled in and waiting when Eddie tosses the bags inside, and then throws a Hershey Bar at Chris and deposits a bag of Skittles in Buck’s lap as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
“Wow,” Buck says, ripping into the package. “Someone’s feeling generous.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and reverses out of the parking space. His voice is soft around the edges when he says, “I know I was a bit more insufferable today than usual.”
Chris grunts some scathing form of agreement. Buck stares at the side of Eddie’s face as he pulls out of the Target parking lot, fingers clenched tightly at ten and two on the steering wheel. “You’re not insufferable, Eddie.”
One quick glance, a fleeting flash of brown eyes full of doubt. “It’s okay. It’s a lot. It’s dark out now and we were up before the sun.”
“Stop apologizing for your interests.”
A tense moment of silence slithers through, but then Eddie nods and relaxes his shoulders, and the heavy air in the truck dissipates.
They make it half-way home before Eddie stops at a redlight and goes, “Shit.”
Buck startles, having settled into the comfortable silence, smiling at Christopher’s tiny snores from the back seat. “What?”
“The throw pillows and the afghan I bought, they’re burnt umber. And the wreath has leaves. And the doormat says Leaf your Worries Behind.”
Buck’s gut twists. “Eddie, don’t you say it. Don’t you fucking say it.”
“I picked the wrong candle.”
“Eddie.”
“We have to go back.”
And it’s useless, because Buck isn’t driving, and all he can do is watch helplessly as Eddie flicks his turn signal on and U-turns them back to Target.
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Pretty Please
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off.
Category: Smut 18+ (masturbation, thigh riding, penetrative sex, oral sex-male and female receiving, semi-rough sex, dom!Spencer)
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: Nothing except the smut listed above and strong language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in the warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!
PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE
***
There's no way she heard that right.
In fact, she was pretty sure she'd made it up. She was tired, delirious, and she'd only imagined hearing what she heard.
Right?
Just to be sure, Y/N sat up in bed, put her ear against the wall just above the headboard, and listened, concentrating as hard as she could to confirm or deny.
And sure enough, the next thing she heard was, "Fuck, yes!"
It was muffled, definitely not as loud as it could have been, but if things continued the way she thought they would, it was going to get louder. Unless, of course, her neighbor was mindful, knowing that someone could probably hear what was going on. Though, for some reason Y/N doubted that.
Just to be extra sure what was happening, she stayed glued to the wall, listening carefully.
There was some muffled movement, but it could have been just about anything. Nonetheless, her heart was beating so fast, and it beat even faster when she heard what came next.
A loud female moan, unmistakable and utterly pornographic, made Y/N close her eyes immediately, her heart practically jumping out of her chest. Her first thought was Okay, he's watching porn. Everyone does that. Not without headphones, but it's completely normal and I should stop eavesdropping and go about my own life because this is an invasion of privacy.
Her second thought was ...Oh.
Because she was dead wrong.
The next thing that sounded through the walls was, "Yes, Spencer, just like that!"
Y/N's eyes shot open and she almost had a heart attack.
Her next thought was Good for him...
She and her neighbor hadn't really gotten to know each other that well. All she knew was that he had a job that kept him away from home quite a bit, either from travel or just late nights. He was shy and rarely talked to her when they met in the halls or in the parking garage, or even in the laundry room. Which is why it was so surprising to Y/N that he was having sex—and decent sex at that, from what she could hear—right next door.
Not that it would have been impossible for him to get it, of course. He was hot as hell, and it shouldn't have surprised Y/N as much as it did that she was hearing what she was hearing. It had just never happened before.
She was about to let it be, glad that her neighbor seemed to be having some fun, and it truly wasn't any of her business what he decided to do in his spare time. Though, the next thing she heard sent her into a tailspin.
"You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?"
Y/N almost hit her head against the wall. Instinctually her legs crossed, as if it would prevent her from being turned on. Which was stupid, considering every nerve in her body was on fire hearing those words come from Spencer Reid's mouth.
No fucking way, Y/N thought, slowly shifting her position on the bed.
It was a stupid idea. Probably one of the dumbest things she's ever done. But she closed her eyes, and as the woman's moans became louder through the walls, every slap of skin on skin getting louder with them, Y/N's right hand drifted under the waistband of her panties and got to work.
She couldn't help imagining what was going on. And it was rare that she could get off on just imagination alone, but this time she had the helpful addition of sound to aid her. Every time the woman moaned Spencer's name, she moved her fingers faster, alternating between rubbing her clit and completely fingering herself. And sometimes Y/N would make inevitable tiny whimpers of her own, careful not to give herself away.
She was almost to her climax when she heard it. The thing that pushed her over the edge.
"Fuck, you take it so well, pretty girl."
That one sentence, added to the impending orgasm Y/N was experiencing and the fact that she was picturing Spencer's face so clearly in her head, caused her to let out a loud moan and throw her head back against the wall with a loud thud.
So many feelings happened at once. Pain, because fuck, hitting her head on the wall without expecting it hurt like hell. Pleasure immediately after, because despite everything, her fingers stayed working, instinctively nursing herself through her orgasm. And finally embarrassment, because she definitely shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her neighbor's sexual encounters and she's positive they'd heard her intrusion.
All noises ceased for a total of two seconds before Y/N came down from her high and the sex next door resumed like nothing had happened.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck, no, Y/N thought as she scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Her head still hurt from hitting it against the wall, but that was the least of her concerns. More than anything she wanted to crawl in a hole and never return. And sure, maybe there was a small chance Spencer and his.. friend hadn't heard you, but it was practically impossible. There was no way they hadn't heard it.
Y/N peed and washed her hands, tapping her foot nervously against the cool tile the whole time. Eventually she calmed her breathing and decided that she'd just have to live with it. I mean, it's not like I'm friends with him anyway, she thought. I barely see him enough as it is, and I can ignore him like there's no tomorrow and nothing will change. Right?
And so she washed her face and got ready for bed, trying desperately not to think about how badly she'd embarrassed herself.
And then as she curled under the covers (with earbuds in just in case) she thought, Maybe I'll make him some muffins tomorrow and say I'm sorry.
The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was Spencer's face.
***
"What's wrong? Can't take it?"
She practically burned with pleasure, every inch of her body overly sensitive and completely fucked out. But she'd let him have whatever he wanted.
She cried. She tried to tell him that yes, she could take it. But tears and strangled moans were all she could manage as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.
"You gonna cum?" He asked, like she could form words.
She cried out again in answer.
He leaned forward, wiping tears from her face, and whispered, "Go ahead, pretty girl."
That was the last thing Y/N heard before she woke up, eyes shooting open and hands clutching the sheets so tightly her fingers ached. She let them go and tried to wiggle them back to life, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath.
"Oh, dear Lord," she muttered, stretching out and realizing that the past 10 hours of her life were going to haunt her for a long time.
I'm gonna have to move, aren't I, she thought sarcastically, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. Though, right now it sounded like a good idea.
Y/N gathered some clothes and went to the shower, refusing to think about last night or the dream she'd woken up from. Instead she lasered all her attention to thoroughly washing her hair, body, and face. By the time the water was running cold, she stepped out, dried off and got dressed, brushing her teeth and then leaving the bathroom to turn on the coffee pot.
Before she could, there was a knock on the door.
Oh no, was her first thought, because naturally the first thing you do at any minor event after severely embarrassing yourself is panic. What if that's him? He's going to get mad at me for eavesdropping. The first thing I'm going to do when I see him is blush and panic. Fuck.
Y/N thought about ignoring it for a second. For all Spencer knew, she could still be sleeping. She could have fled the country immediately after giving herself away. She could have died from a heart attack, literally embarrassing herself to death. She could ha—
Knock knock knock.
"Shit," Y/N muttered to herself, adjusting her freshly-washed hair and praying she looked okay. If it really was Spencer at her door, she wanted to at least look like she was moving on with her life and not thinking about last night every waking second.
She ran to the door, took a deep breath and opened it, sure enough revealing Spencer Reid in her doorway, wearing a kind smile and holding a small something in his hand.
"Oh... Spencer, hi," Y/N said, pretending to be happy. Not that she wasn't ever happy to see him, but today of all days was most definitely not a good time. She only prayed he wouldn't get mad at her for eavesdropping.
"Hi, Y/N. Sorry for being here so early, but I, uh... thought you might need this."
He handed her what was in his hand, and it rattled, confusing her. She took it and flipped it over in her hands, studying the bottle.
"Advil?"
"Yeah. Seems like you hit your head on the wall pretty hard last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Her stomach dropped. "No."
"No... You're not okay, or no, you don't need it?"
Heat rushed to Y/N's cheeks and all she could manage was another, "No."
She only sounded slightly terrified.
But before Spencer could say anything else, Y/N looked up at him and almost started to cry. "I'm so so so sorry, Spencer, I didn't mean to hear, it just happened, and I couldn't help it, and I tried to be quiet, I really did, but it just slipped, and I feel really bad, I'm so sorry, I—"
"Whoa, whoa, Y/N, slow down. It's okay, really," he laughed. "I'm not upset or anything, I just... Truthfully I feel kind of bad for not thinking of anyone hearing. I didn't realize the walls were so thin, and had I known I probably would have... Gone about things differently. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
Y/N's heart raced, but she was even more shocked by the fact that he was apologizing. "Spencer, don't be sorry. I embarrassed myself, really. I shouldn't have been listening anyway— what you do in your apartment isn't any of my business, and I messed up."
He smiled and shuffled on his feet, trying to avoid looking at you but failing. In the end he shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, in any case, I really do hope your head doesn't hurt too bad. That was a loud thump."
Y/N laughed nervously, turning the bottle over in her hands while looking at the floor. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Feels better now that I've slept it off... Thank you, though. I... I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
She looked up at him and almost started crying again, still completely embarrassed over the whole ordeal. In an attempt to not cry, she cleared her throat. "Um, I was just going put on some coffee if you... wanted to come in? I can make some eggs or something too, if you're hungry. Y'know, to say I'm sorry?"
Spencer looked like he was about to tell her not to be sorry again, but she gave him a look that said don't you dare, and he settled on nodding instead. "Sure, I'd like that."
***
"Wow. These are great."
Y/N smiled, watching Spencer eat a bite of the eggs she'd made him. "Thank you. It's a family recipe. Nothing too special, but my mom always made them for my brother and I before our first day of school every year."
He smiled. "That's nice. Really, they're great. Thank you."
"Yeah, no problem... Look, again, I really am so—"
"Y/N, stop. It's okay, really. It... happens. You don't have to be sorry."
She nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. Spencer ate some more of his eggs and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, before it got completely unbearable.
She didn't want to keep bringing it up, but something forced the words out of her mouth. "So, your... guest... Is she your girlfriend?"
It took Spencer a minute to realize what she said, but eventually he cleared his throat, some color forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh... no. No, I'm single. She and I had just met at a bar downtown. I don't usually do that. Go to bars, I mean. Though I suppose I don't really have one night stands all that often, either, but my co-workers and I were out last night after a... pretty rough day at work, and... before I left we met at the bar and it just kind of went on from there."
"Oh... Well, I... I'm sorry work was rough. Seems like you... handled it, though. Got over it... I mean, like, you knew how to take your mind off of it, or make it better or whatever."
Y/N froze after she said it. Immediately after, she shook her head. "God, I'm sorry. That was dumb. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, I get what you mean, it's okay, really," Spencer said quickly, seemingly amused. "It, uh... It really did help. You know, sex is a good stress reliever. The endorphins it releases puts you in a better mood and calms you down, and studies show that regular sexual activity can aid in decreasing high blood pressure during stressful situations."
"I... didn't know that. Sounds helpful. Especially with your job, I imagine."
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "What about you? Is your job stressful?"
Y/N shrugged, kind of glad that the conversation moved away from sexual nature. Though, she supposed the reason it was there in the first place was kind of her fault. In any case, she told Spencer about her job. "It's not as stressful as other jobs can be, but I just got a promotion so all the responsibility is a little daunting, I guess."
"I'm sure you're fine," he complimented, setting his mug down. "Though... If you do ever find yourself beginning to buckle under the stress of your job, sex is a good way to keep your spirits up."
It was a joke. A reference to their conversation, the whole reason they were in this moment in the first place. So why did Y/N respond with, "What, is that your way of offering?"
I'm just full of stupid shit lately, aren't I, she thought, immediately hating herself for saying it. Things were going well, and Spencer didn't seem mad or annoyed after the whole incident, and now she was positive she'd made everything worse.
But nothing could have prepared her for what came out of his mouth next.
"Maybe it is."
She looked up at him and saw that he was completely serious. His eyes bore into her, staring her down like he was trying to compel her to say something, to do something, to put her under his spell. Y/N swallowed, trying to speak, but nothing would come out.
Oh, now you have nothing to say? Good going, Y/N...
Nevertheless, he waited. His eyes remained glued on her, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows as if to ask her, well?
Eventually, she settled on, "You mean it?"
Spencer nodded slowly, staring at her with an intensity she hadn't experienced in forever. "Only if you want to."
Immediately Y/N thought back to last night. His nasty words replayed in her ears over and over again, repeating themselves like a mantra— You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?
And under his burning gaze, Y/N felt like she was on fire. Her lower stomach bubbled over with desire and she imagined him fucking her like he had in her dream.
It's almost like he knew what she was thinking about. Because right before she could tell him she wanted him, he laughed softly to himself. "What are you thinking about, Y/N?"
Her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. "W... What?"
"Tell me. You're thinking about having sex with me right now, aren't you?"
She could barely breathe. But she managed to get out a strangled, "Yes."
Spencer smirked and stood up, walking around the table but never taking his eyes off Y/N. She swallowed and stood up too, meeting his eyes and tilting her head up to look at him— really look at him. His pupils were full-blown, his lips formed into an amused smile as he reached out to touch her face. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned into his touch, a small sigh involuntarily escaping her lips.
"How long have you been thinking about me?" Spencer asked quietly, yet the tone in his voice rather demanded an answer more than asked for one.
Y/N opened her eyes to meet his, and almost crumbled under the weight of their intensity. "S-since last night."
He hummed in response, running his thumb over her chin and up to her lips, just barely touching them. "Have you ever thought about it before then?"
She couldn't lie to him. "A few times."
That got a full smile out of him, but it disappeared rather quickly as he stepped even closer and gripped the side of Y/N's face in his right hand, his fingers barely weaving through the hair behind her ear. She gasped and looked up at him, silently begging for him to kiss her. To push her onto the table, or choke her, or something.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, keeping that even, soft tone. It sent another chill through Y/N's body.
She could hardly breathe. Could hardly form words.
Spencer slipped his hand behind her head and gripped the underside of her damp hair, tugging slightly as she whimpered. "What do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me," Y/N gasped out, completely and utterly entranced by his looming presence.
"Now?" he asked, his own way of really making sure she wanted to go through with this.
"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, please, fuck me. Please."
The look he gave her after she said it was purely dirty and unlike any thing she'd ever experienced. She decided then and there that if that was the reaction she'd get from him for begging, she would beg him for anything any time.
Not to mention, the way he kissed her was enough to make any man or woman fly into the sun. Both of his hands found themselves lost in her hair, pulling her head to his and practically massaging her scalp as he glided his lips across hers with a slow burning fever that made Y/N's body completely succumb to him. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, reaching up to twist her fingers through the ends of his hair, admiring how soft and perfect it felt on her skin. Once Spencer's tongue swiped over her bottom lip and softly pushed into her mouth, it was well and truly over. Y/N was done for. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn't turn him away.
He pulled away for a moment, taking her bottom lip between his teeth before moving back in and angling his head in the other direction, kissing her deeper and causing a groan to slip from her throat.
Y/N desperately clung to his neck, wishing he could do this to her forever, but then he took one of his hands away from her head and brought it to her lower back. He completely pulled her against him, one of his legs slipping between hers and putting the slightest bit of pressure to her crotch.
She whimpered, causing Spencer to push himself against her harder, the two of them completely attached. He brought his knee up just a little, and Y/N instinctively ground against it, desperately wanting to feel any type of friction she could manage. It warmed her whole body to the core, being completely embraced by him, and in a matter of seconds she was more desperate than she'd ever been.
She pulled her face away from his reluctantly, breathing heavily and still grinding against his leg. "Please," was all the could think to say.
"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Spencer whispered, peppering her neck with wet kisses as he brought his leg up higher, giving her more access. He leaned his butt against the table for support, until eventually he gave in and sat down on it, bringing her down to sit on his thigh.
Y/N hesitated, halting her movements for a second before he gripped her hips and moved them forward. "Go ahead, pretty girl. Ride my thigh."
She groaned at the nickname and obliged happily, grinding down and rocking her hips against him. He continued to kiss her neck, occasionally biting down and sucking at different spots, sure to leave marks.
He hadn't even really touched her yet, and Y/N was absolutely dizzy, high on kisses and his hands burning into her hips. She felt her stomach start to coil as an orgasm came to the surface, her legs clenching tighter around him.
"You close, baby?" Spencer muttered against her neck, right under her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth for just a moment before rocking her hips faster, bringing his leg up just a bit higher to aid her. She shoved her head into his neck and cried out his name, somewhere between a whine and a moan.
Within a matter of seconds Y/N was shaking around him, panting his name over and over while he brought his leg just a tad higher, bringing her over the edge. Her mind raced, coming to terms with what just happened and what was about to happen, and it made her tremble again, sending one more shockwave through her lower body before her hips slowed to a stop.
Spencer slid his hands back up to her head, bringing her face to his once more and kissing her. As if she wasn't already so out of breath. But it didn't matter. She only cared about his mouth and the way it captured hers like it belonged there, like it knew she was his for the taking. And she really believed that was true.
Y/N still straddled his leg, but she wanted to give him the same release he'd given her, so she attempted to climb away and moved one of her hands down to his belt.
Spencer stopped her hand and pulled his face away from hers. For a moment she thought she'd done something wrong, and she was about to apologize, but he pulled her close and stroked her hair with his hand, tilting his head to meet her gaze. "Not yet, pretty girl. I want to taste you first."
And without another second passing by, he moved the hand that grabbed her wrist between them and snuck it into her shorts and panties. Y/N jumped a little, but only because it felt too good for her own good. Her eyes fluttered shut when his middle finger grazed her clit, but his other hand gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "No. I want you to look at me, okay?"
She nodded, and then whimpered when he slipped a finger inside of her. She lifted herself up just a little so he had more access, and sure enough his finger slipped in and out with ease.
She wanted more, but he took his hand away, and the glimmer in his eye when she pouted, visibly frustrated, sent her into another small fit of tremors.
"So antsy, pretty girl," Spencer laughed, slightly amused. Y/N would have said something, but all words escaped her when he brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue poked out to taste-test before he completely took them in, holding eye contact with her the whole time. As he sucked his fingers clean, Y/N felt herself growing desperate again, and she ground against his leg once more.
Spencer laughed and brought his fingers out of his mouth, resting them on her hips. "You're being awfully quiet, Y/N."
"I... I don't... Is that a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily. But you didn't have a problem being loud last night."
It brought color to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to apologize but she knew he'd chastise her for it, so she didn't. Rather, she embraced the opportunity and pulled herself closer to him. "Is that what you want, Spencer? You want me to be loud for you?" Her voice was soft, somewhat contradicting what she was saying, but she looked at him through her eyelashes, biting her lip as if asking for permission.
And now it seemed like it was his turn to groan, though it came out as more of a growl as he pushed her away from him, grabbing her arm and leading her through the apartment. All the rooms were built the same so he knew where to go. He didn't take the time to scan her room, though if he did it was fast. Y/N barely had any time to react before he pulled her to him again and kissed her roughly.
As his fingers weaved through her hair again, Y/N decided to take a chance, snaking her hands down to his belt. This time he didn't stop her, his lips opening and granting her access to his tongue as she unbuckled the belt. She unzipped his pants and pushed them down his hips, but they only got about an inch down before he pulled away from her completely, leaving her empty again.
She whined, and he smirked.
"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. "What do you want?" His tone was almost condescending, like he knew exactly what she wanted.
She didn't like being teased. "I just want you," she stated, whining a bit to prove her point.
He seemed to contemplate his words for a moment before he spoke. "And... you think I should just give you what you want? After I caught you eavesdropping on me last night?"
He was only saying it to see her flushed. To embarrass her and make her shy so he could make it better in the end. She knew that, knew better, and yet it still worked. "I'm sorry," she pleaded, getting down on her knees in front of him and looking up at him with just as much desperation as she could manage. "You know I feel really really bad about it, just please let me make it up to you. Please, Spencer."
When all he did was look down at her, amused and still, Y/N batted her eyelashes and grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear. She waited to pull them down until he did or said something, but all he did was stare. She couldn't tell if he was making her wait or if he was waiting for her, and she was afraid of making the wrong decision. But, deciding that she'd been in enough trouble in the past 10 hours to last a lifetime, Y/N took a chance yet again and pulled Spencer's pants all the way down.
Still unsure of what would happen if she continued, Y/N scooted closer, but kept her eyes locked on his. She batted her eyelashes and ran her hands up his thighs, eventually wrapping around to his ass. She brought them up his lower back and around to feel his stomach before sliding down to the front of his hips. She stopped them there, gliding her thumbs over his skin in small circles as she pleaded once more for good measure.
"Pretty please."
Spencer gave in, bringing his hands to her hair and pulling her close. "It's all yours, baby."
The words sent heat straight to her lower half as she flicked her tongue out to taste the head of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and Y/N took that as her opening. She looked down and marveled at him as she took him completely in her mouth, slowly but surely, getting herself acquainted with his size.
Once she set a steady pace, she looked up at him and found that he was absolutely wonderstruck. His eyes practically sparkled as they fixed on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in pure adoration and fascination. Y/N took this as encouragement, bobbing her head faster and slacking her jaw as she let him hit the back of her throat with each thrust forward. She gagged once and pulled herself off, bringing her hand up to jerk him for a few seconds before using her mouth again. This was a cycle that continued until tears were streaming down her cheeks and spit was leaking down her chin, and every time she looked up at him, Spencer would groan and tighten his grip in her hair.
Eventually he stopped her, pulling her off of him and panting. "Come here," he whispered, and Y/N got up off her knees, standing up and wiping some of the spit from her face. It didn't feel all that sexy as she was doing it, though the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing in the entire world that could bring him joy.
He reached forward and wiped some of the tears from her cheek before kissing her, groaning into her mouth as he did so. His still hard cock pressed against her leg, and she groaned, too, before he pulled away.
That dark glimmer returned in his eye when he spoke. "Take your clothes off."
Y/N didn't have to be told twice. Immediately she threw her shirt off over her head and tossed it to the ground as Spencer stepped out of his pants. His eyes travelled down to her breasts and she noticed him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times before he looked back up at her face. Keeping eye contact and softly biting her lip, Y/N hooked her fingers around her shorts and underwear and slid them down her legs until they reached the other clothes on the floor. She kicked them to the side and tilted her head up.
She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he nodded his head towards her bed. "Lay down on your back."
As Y/N had learned pretty early on, she was quick and eager to obey, and so she did as she was told, laying down in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her pillows and the rest of her body laying flat, eagerly awaiting Spencer's next move.
She watched him as he took his shirt off, leaving him completely bare, and before she had time to admire him, he bent down and grabbed something from his pants.
A condom, Y/N realized as he made his way to her.
"You really came over with the intent to fuck me, didn't you?" she mused, unable to stop herself.
He laughed at her words, climbing over her and leaning down to press his lips to her neck in a soft kiss. "Wasn't it obvious?"
No, she thought to herself, but she didn't say anything. Though even if she wanted to, she couldn't have, because Spencer's mouth moved down her neck and to her chest. He licked a small circle over her right nipple before enclosing it entirely in his mouth, and Y/N arched her back off the bed, running her fingers through his hair.
He laughed again, taking her nipple in between his teeth before releasing it and saying, "I love how fucking responsive you are, pretty girl."
Everything about what he was saying and doing to her sent Y/N into a tailspin. Before she had time to respond, he moved his mouth to her other breast and got right to work, repeating the process.
One of his hands trailed down her body, just light enough to leave goosebumps it its wake, until it reached where she really wanted him. As if to prove his last statement, Y/N's hips bucked upwards to feel more of him, and Spencer laughed against her chest, removing his mouth from her and using both of his hands to steady her hips, pushing them into the mattress. "Can you be still for me? Use your words."
Y/N sighs and bites her lip before answering. "Yes. I can be still."
"Louder, Y/N. You promised you'd be loud for me, remember?"
If she wasn't wet before, she definitely was now. And she thought about just repeating her words louder, like she was expected to, but then something in that stupid part of her brain said to push her luck. And so she laughed back at him.
"No, I didn't."
Spencer seemed shocked. This was the first time she'd blatantly disagreed with something he said. "What?"
He seemed a little mad, but Y/N acted innocent. "Well, I asked you if you'd like me to be loud for you, and you just pulled me in here. You didn't answer me, and I didn't promise anything."
She was scared of what he would do or say, but that turned her on even more.
And without warning, Spencer jammed two of his fingers into her mouth, forcing it open and pressing them down on her tongue. "Well, sweetheart, this is me telling you. You're gonna scream my name until the whole city can hear how needy you are for me."
She almost choked on his fingers, but he took them out and slid them down her chin and neck, leaving her completely breathless. He waited a beat before laughing to himself. "Aw, see? Look what I do to you, pretty girl," he mused. "You're so submissive."
Y/N wanted to argue, but she wanted him more, so she whined and tried to move him closer, to which he laughed again and caressed her face. "That's what I thought. Now be a good girl and wait a second while I put this on, okay?"
For fear of disappointing him, Y/N replied with, "Okay," loud and clear.
He smirked, unwrapping the condom and starting to slide it over himself. "Fast learner."
And in an attempt to patch things over even more, she batted her eyes like she knew he liked, acting patient and innocent though she was pretty sure they both knew she was the exact opposite.
It paid off in the end though, because Spencer rewarded her with a sweet kiss as he ran the tip of his cock over her pussy, just barely entering. He teased her like that for about a minute before she started to get antsy, and yet he didn't let up. He raised an eyebrow at her, and catching on she reached up, grabbing the sides of his face and blinking once before talking. "Please, Spencer. Fuck me."
"Atta girl," he praised before moving forward and entering her. Immediately Y/N moaned, her mouth open and eyes just about rolling to the back of her head. Her hands slid up his face and through his hair, weaving her fingers through the soft waves as he set a steady pace, letting themselves get used to the feeling of being wrapped up in each other like this. For a moment it seemed like he forgot his promise to fuck her so hard the whole city would hear her screaming his name, but after a while, he apparently decided that she wasn't being loud enough.
"Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that."
She wanted more than anything to tell him that if he fucked her harder then maybe she would be louder, but infinitely realized that A) that was a surefire way to get chastised, and B) if she was louder, he would fuck her harder. He was going to make her work for it, and in the end she didn't mind that at all.
So she told the truth. "Fuck, Spencer, you feel so goo— ahh!"
Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, he quickly adjusted and fucked her faster, and aside from the overstimulation, it was starting to feel reminiscent of the dream she'd had last night. She wasn't crying but she felt like she could, every fiber of her being burning alive with pleasure. She felt her orgasm rising to the surface, but she didn't want this to end yet. Maybe if she was lucky Spencer would keep going after she'd finished, though at this point she was just happy to let him fuck her for any period of time.
That being said, he slowed his movements, making each stroke harder and more deliberate, and Y/N yelled out his name, hoping to get more.
"You close, pretty girl? Hmm? You wanna cum?"
The strain in his voice sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body. He was close too, she just knew it.
"Yes," she breathed, before repeating it louder and louder. "Yes, yes, yes!"
She was just about to fall over the edge when Spencer laughed and pulled out of her, leaving her unsatisfied, empty, and confused.
"What?" she breathed, looking up at him.
He slid the condom off and tossed it aside before jerking himself off over her stomach. "Only good girls get to cum. You should have thought of that before you eavesdropped on me."
And then he came all over her stomach and chest. She would have been more angry, but the whole sight in front of her was hot as hell. Who was she to complain? She watched as his face scrunched up in pleasure, his mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. His hair faintly stuck to his face, and his hips jerked into his hand until eventually he was spent.
Y/N whined at the sight, completely turned on feeling his warm cum coating her skin and also utterly frustrated for not getting off.
Spencer opened his eyes to look at her, and she thought in that moment it looked like he would burst into flames. As his gaze raked over her body, covered in his cum and so obviously desperate for release, he licked his lips and got down, spreading her legs wider and opening her up to him.
"Wha—"
Y/N didn't get to finish her thought, because Spencer was immediately eating her out like a man starved, running his tongue through her pussy, occasionally flicking it over her clit. As expected, the louder she got the more he gave her, and at one point he started fingering her at a relentless pace, curling his fingers up against her g-spot while circling her clit with his tongue.
He brought his head up and looked at her through his eyelashes as best as he could, barely catching a glimpse of her face, completely contorted in pleasure.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" he teased, slowing his fingers torturously.
She whined and then threw her head back, pleading. "Spencer, please!"
He only got a little faster and then gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, to which she yelped and fisted the sheets.
In turn he moved faster. And she got louder. Faster and louder, faster and louder, until finally he gave her what she wanted.
"That's it, pretty girl. Cum for me."
Right after he said it, Y/N arched her back off the bed and fisted the sheets even harder, actually screaming his name until it came out as incoherent sobs, eventually dwindling down to whimpering and panting as he aided her down from her high.
Spencer's movements slowed to a stop, pulling his fingers out of her and pressing one final kiss to her clit before removing himself from her completely and coming up to lay down beside her.
She stayed there on her back, arms clutched at her sides, breathing deep and eyes almost heavy like she was about to fall asleep. He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on him, and it excited her. When he pulled away, she turned her head to look at him and smiled.
"I'm definitely going to have to invade your privacy more often if this is what the end result is."
Spencer laughed, his hand brushing lightly through her hair. "So that was okay? I'm sorry if I was kind of mean, I—"
"I'm gonna stop you right there. If I was really truly mad about anything you did, I would have screamed at you, not for you. Trust me. You're just fine. That was... perfect."
"Good... And you know I was just teasing you about eavesdropping, right? I'm not actually upset about it."
"No, I know. I still feel kinda bad about it though."
"Well, you shouldn't. If anything... something good came out of it, right?"
Y/N laughed, scrunching her nose as he looked at her. "Right."
After a moment, Spencer sat up and looked down at her stomach, a smirk on his face. "I'm gonna go get you a washcloth."
"Good thinking. And while you're at it could you also grab the Advil?"
He was on his way out the bedroom door, slipping on his underwear before stopping in his tracks. "Oh no... I- I didn't hurt you did I?"
"Oh! No, you didn't. I just know that I'm going to be sore, and walking will most definitely be a problem. And I am not getting out of this bed for the rest of the day, so Advil will definitely help. Thank you for that, by the way."
Spencer laughed, leaving Y/N to admire him as he walked away.
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Cruel - Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Semi-public sex, cunt slaps, face slaps (1), finger sucking, degradation, praise, car sex, size kink!, jealous Omi, edging, overstimulation (but in theory sorta, at the end), "daddy" and "bunny" used! As always, please let me know if I missed any!!
Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi is not a very jealous man, but sometimes his teammates can get under his skin.
Word count: 3k
Author note: This was a commission! Therefore, the reader has some body descriptions (being shorter and smaller than Kiyoomi). If you're interested in commissioning me, please dm me!
--
Nervous was the understatement of the year. While you had met a few of Kiyoomi’s teammates before, usually just saying a quick “hi” and “bye” before he drug you away from them, nothing to this degree. Atsumu had requested that his twin allow the team to have a party at his onigiri shop to celebrate a big tournament win for the team when they got back to Tokyo. Excitement was definitely there, but nothing would stop you from feeling the heavy rock in your gut or the anxious beating of your heart.
Well, nothing but Kiyoomi’s warm hand in yours. He smiled at you before slipping his black mask over his pretty face.
“It’ll be fun,” he assured, and you wondered if he actually felt that way.
He hated these gatherings, probably more than anyone should. Not for the fact he was antisocial or that he didn’t enjoy his teammates. He just didn’t want them flocking to you and making you nervous. However, it had been several months of him turning these things down and opting to spend his days off with you after games. The team was irritated with him for it, and he knew that this one party would make up for all the times missed.
Or at least he hoped.
“I think so too!” You say back cheerfully, adjusting your dress underneath you on the seat of his car. The leather was sticking to your thighs where your sundress rode up.
“You could have worn something more-“
“Think about what you’re about to say.” You warn, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “I like this dress.”
He does too, he wants to tell you. But so will the other members of MSBY. He chooses to not say anything, knowing you would only laugh at his comment or say something smart back. He loves that about you, even if he doesn’t tell you that often. He enjoys watching you get frustrated, furrowing your brows, and pouting your lip. It’s why he always teases you about what you wear. Not that he’d ever actually make you change, well, to an extent he thinks.
“Why are you so in your head?” You ask him as he pulls out of the parking garage.
“I didn’t realize I was,” he answers honestly.
You intertwine your fingers with his on your lap as he drives, listening to the soft sounds of the radio in the background while he takes you to the infamous Onigiri Miya you’d heard about a few dozen times. You knew Kiyoomi liked to pretend he hated Atsumu, but he was probably his closest friend, no matter how much he protested that fact.
It’s a shame this would be the first time you actually got to speak to him or anyone else on the team for that matter. You thought it was definitely cute that he was protective of you, but you were beginning to feel like he was keeping part of his life from you. When you brought it up to him, he apologized profusely, promising to take you to the next event.
--
“-----,” Atsumu’s shit-eating grin appeared for the hundredth time that night. “Tell me again, am I saying that right?” His hand caresses your shoulder and you still, shocked he’d carelessly do this despite you sitting on Omi’s lap.
“There’s not another way to say her name, Miya.” Kiyoomi glares at him from above you. It amazes you that even while sitting on his lap he seems so much larger than you. Thinking about it too much stirs something inside of you that you’d rather save for when you have him alone. So, you push it away. “Stop touching my girlfriend and go find yours.”
He throws his hands up, another laugh vibrating from his chest. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing you Omi Omi.”
As he walks away, you smile down at your boyfriend, and he seems to relax. “Your friends are nice.”
“He’s not my friend.” He huffs looking away from you.
You know better. It’s honestly sort of adorable the way he always denies it.
“Yo!” Bokuto’s booming voice catches your attention as he runs towards you and Kiyoomi. “Osamu said something about a karaoke set, you have to come over here with us -----!”
“I-I don’t know about that,” your fingers dig into your palm as you look to Sakusua. “Would you want to?”
“I can come watch if you want to, bunny.” His fingers slowly stroke your thighs, and you flush; unable to think straight whenever he’s touching you and calling your favorite name.
“Okay,” you stand up going with Bokuto as he drags you towards the front of the Onigiri shop where the others have begun to set up the karaoke machine.
“I’ll sing with you since I know Kiyoomi would rather die than let loose with a song. Anything you like to sing?”
“Oh, uh,” you think. “I’ve never actually done this. So just pick something easy.”
“I guess,” he starts sifting through the catalog that’s on the machine, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun it is!”
You laugh taking the mic he hands you. It’s so ridiculous he would choose it, but you know he’s doing his absolute best to help you feel comfortable around him and all the others. The entire event was bigger than you expected, everyone either bringing a partner or friend, sometimes both. However, even with all the people around Bokuto is making it easier to loosen up and realize no one actually cares about what you sound like; hell, most of them are too deep in conversation and laughing to even watch closely.
Kiyoomi is the exception, as always.
He’s removed his mask from one ear, letting it dangle from the other while he watches you. A small smile creeps on his lips when you make eye contact, and you can’t help but giggle through the lyrics. His smile quickly turns to a frown when Bokuto throws an arm around your shoulder as you finish the song and he laughs, smooshing his face up against yours to belt out the lyrics. You giggle, pulling away not sure you like the sudden closeness, and the song ending is a perfect excuse to put down the mic and heading over to Kiyoomi.
“That was quite the little show,” he says, his tone stern and unforgiving. “Especially the little bit at the end.”
“Omi,” you whine, placing your hand on his firm chest. “He was just being silly.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs before pulling his mask back on. “Let’s go. I’m ready to be home.”
“Omi!” You say more firmly. “I’m having fun!”
“Would you like to go home with one of them, then?” His eyes are intense, and you feel suddenly smaller than usual as he peers down at you.
He’s good at that, making you feel small. Even if you love it most of the time, it’s not just that. You want him, desperately, right here and now. You want to stay longer and spend more time with his friends, but he’s making it hard to focus with his deep voice and intense eyes that make you want to jump him here.
“No! Only you,” you tell him and lean up and place a soft kiss on his chest. “Let’s go, I guess,” you make sure to make your displeasure unknown even if you’re only thinking about getting him out of his clothes as soon as you are home.
You can’t exactly be sure, but you think he smiles under his mask. His eyes soften like they usually do when he smiles at you, so you assume you’ve made him happy. He says a few quick goodbyes, even making sure yours are faster than his while he pulls you away. To your surprise, he opens the back passenger door of his car.
“I am not riding in the back like a kid,” you tell him frowning. “You can’t be serio-“
“Get in the fucking car, -----.” He rolls his eyes again, and you slide in with a pout on your lips. Kiyoomi slides in beside you, pushing you down against the back seat. “I can’t wait another minute,” he growls in your ear while his fingers unhook his mask from his ear.
You bite your lip to keep from smiling too widely. “Daddy,” you whine as his fingers tease you through your thin dress.
It’s cruel, and you know that’s exactly what he intends.
He could easily hike the dress up just a few inches to have easy access to your core, but he won’t. He loves teasing you too much. The way your body reacts to even his slightest touch makes him dizzy, and he wants to feel drunk on you tonight. Even if you don’t know it, he thinks, Bokuto got to him in a way he can’t understand.
He thought Atsumu would be the one to bring out the ugly jealous side of him, but no, to his surprise it was the one man he never thought could do it. Honestly, he’s a little ashamed of himself as he’s sliding your dress up your thighs. It’s not your fault, anyone would want you. But you’re his.
Only his; and he intends to remind you of that.
“Omi, please!” You all but scream for him.
He’s relentlessly drawing small circles onto your clit and driving you mad. You’re soaking through your panties, and you need him. You’re not sure if it’s even been two minutes, but it feels like an eternity of teasing.
“Omi?” He chuckles. “Bunny, you know better than that.”
“Daddy, please,” you correct yourself. “I need you, daddy! Please!”
“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, his lips rough against yours.
He kisses you like he’s desperate he’ll lose you. Every touch and motion meant to remind you how much he loves and needs you. While his tongue enters your mouth, he slips his fingers down below your dress, moaning as he feels how wet you are for him.
“Fuck,” he groans against your lips. “You’re always so fucking good for me, bunny.”
He doesn’t curse often, or at least to this degree unless you’re fucking. Something about knowing he reserves even his swearing just for you. He pushes your panties to the side, just enough to give him access to your drooling cunt. He smiles as your back arches up off the leather of his back seat and your eyes roll back into your head.
“Tell me what you want, bunny.” He curls his fingers inside of you and you moan loudly.
“You! Daddy, want your big cock! Want it so bad,” you whine as he fucks his fingers into you.
His fingers leave you empty, and you start to whine, but before the sweet sound passes your lips, he smacks your cunt. Once and then twice and then finally a third time. You whine, trying to move away each time, but his strong hand holds your thigh still with ease. Fingertips digging into your thigh with each smack only makes you cry out louder.
It hurts too good. You want it to stop, but you want it to continue. You can’t decide which would be better. Your clit throbs, and your cunt clenches around nothing with the fourth and final smack. Your throat is starting to hurt from all your whining and straining to keep from screaming too loud.
“Remember to as politely,” he says against your lips. “Then Daddy won’t have to punish you, yeah?”
You nod, shaking your head up and down slowly while he smiles at you.
“Good girl,” he kisses you softly. “Now, I think it’s time I gave you a treat.”
You smile widely as he sits down, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down his hips and legs along with his underwear. It’s hard not to watch the way his cock slaps against his stomach, ready for you with a desperately swollen pink head. It’s unfair how pretty it is, really… who else would have a pretty cock?
“Come sit,” he strokes his cock once and you hurry over to him.
Straddling his legs, he helps you sink down on him. It always burns at first, stretching around him to adjust.
“So big,” you whine while hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Too much!”
“Shhh,” he coos rubbing your back with one hand and your ass with another. “You always take it bunny; tonight is no different.”
“Daddy,” you cry as you finally take him all in.
He smirks, thrusting up once and making you bounce. “Feel so good, my precious bunny.” He holds your hips, guiding you into starting to ride him.
His hands are tight, supporting you and making you move at his pace. He’s slow, making sure you feel every drag of his cock in and out of you. Your dress falls down around his hands and your thighs, hiding everything from anyone who could possibly be passing outside the car.
“M-more,” you whine, wanting him to start thrusting up into you.
“Do you deserve more, bunny?” He holds your hips still, making you whine and look up at him. “I’m not sure you even deserve to cum. Dirty sluts don’t get to feel good.”
“But daddy please-“
His hand is fast, hitting your cheek with enough force to shut you up and turn your head. It stings but is replaced by that addicting warmth that takes over your cheeks and mind. You moan as his hand rests on your cheek, covering the redness that’s forming already.
“Open up,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip, and you part your lips.
He closes his eyes as you suck on his thumb, relaxing and letting you start riding him slowly again. He thrusts to meet you each time you come down on his cock, making you bite down on his thumb each time. He thrusts harder with each bite, which continues in an endless cycle until he pulls his thumb out to bring your face to his. He kisses you desperately, his tongue fighting your own. You moan against his lips, holding onto his shoulders tightly while he takes control of your body again.
“Don’t you dare cum.” He warns. “Not until I say, got it?”
You nod slowly while he fucks into you harder. His thrusts are rougher and more intense, signaling he’s close. It’s nearly impossible to not cum on him now, but you hold out. Fighting ever instinct telling you to cum is the hardest thing he’s ever asked of you.
“Daddy,” you whimper, feeling like you might explode. “Please!”
“Just a little more,” he pants, closing his eyes and laying his head against the backseat. “Fuck, I’m going to feel your cute little cunt up darling. I’ll have my cum dripping down your thighs and all over that little dress of yours.”
Oh, he’s definitely close. He wouldn’t talk this much if not.
“Want your cum daddy!”
“I know you do, slutty little bunny.” He leans up and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin between your shoulder and neck.
“Daddy please, wanna cum!”
“I told you not until I say,” he slaps your ass once and you cry out.
Everything burns. Your stomach, thighs, and even your core. You’re desperate for some release but want Omi’s praise more than anything else. So, you keep fighting the urge to just let go.
“Fuck,” he moans once more, thrusting into you and holding your hips still while he cums. You feel the warm release start to dribble down his cock and out of you onto his thigh.
The bastard really didn’t let you cum… is he going to finish you off?
“Omi!” You try to ride his cock again, but he holds you still.
“Sorry bunny,” he chuckles breathlessly, his curly hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you. “You have to wait just a little longer.”
“Not fair!” You whine, tears stinging your eyes. “Wanna cum now! On your cock!”
“If you cheer up, I’ll tease you on the way home and keep you on the edge. I promise I’ll let you cum when we get home.” He kisses your cheeks, teasingly thrusting up into you once before pulling out. “Can you be good for daddy? If you make it until we get home, I promise I’ll reward you.”
Your eyes brighten and you perk up. “I can try,” you tell him.
--
The ride is torment. Even a bump in the road makes you moan. Kiyoomi brings you to the edge at least three times, and after that, you lose count. The only grounding part of the experience is his warm voice praising you for doing so well. It makes you weaker, every time he gives you just that little acknowledgment, and it helps you make it all the way home.
“We’re home, bunny,” he smiles at you and opens his door.
He jogs around the car and opens yours, helping you out and guiding you inside. You’re grateful for the covered garage and the short elevator ride up to his apartment. As soon as you pass the threshold of his apartment, your arms are around him and he lifts you up. He’s already hard, you giggle feeling it against your swollen cunt and watching Omi’s pants get damp from the mess you both made earlier.
“Daddy, make me cum! Please! I did what you asked.”
“You’ve been such a good girl, bunny.” He lays you down on the dining table, spreading you out for him to stand comfortably between your thighs. “Daddy is gonna make you cream around my cock.”
You thank whatever gods may be for Kiyoomi’s agile body and earnest attitude. He has his pants off quickly and his cock inside you before you can even whine again. Gasping, you reach up for him and he holds you against his body while fucking you on the table.
“Cum whenever you want, bunny, you earned it. Cum as many times as you want. I won’t stop until you’re begging me to.”
That’s all it takes. You cum, crying against his chest and clawing at him. He fucks you through it, your body limp against him and toes still curling.
“I know you have another in you, bunny. Give me another one.”
You love Sakusa Kiyoomi, you really do, but he can be cruel sometimes. Well, if you can define edging followed by overstimulation as cruel.
#sakusa kiyoomi smut#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa smut#haikyu smut#haikyu x reader#hq smut#hq x reader#hqintheclub
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escape from reality
hey there! it’s been a minute since I've written so this is definitely not the best, as I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you like it either way.
pairing: glenn x reader
request: readers form of escapism is jumping over hiltops walls (forbidden) so when she gets into a complication with some people at hilltop, she gathers her things and jumps over the wall… what she doesnt know is glenn saw her and followed her
“Are you serious?” you asked, trying to keep calm.
“Ethan got shot all because you had the idea to go after them! We wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you!” Carson yelled.
This was building for the past couple of weeks. A group outside the walls had been stealing from the Hilltop, and you weren’t going to let it happen anymore. You tracked them to a store they frequented, and after taking a couple of the Hilltop residents to check it out, you’d been spotted.
The plan was to talk calmly, set up some sort of deal, but it had taken a turn when Ethan decided to shoot.
“Me? Ethan was the one that fired! We had a plan! A plan that went to hell because you and Ethan think you know what you’re doing!”
“Ethan’s bleeding out because of you! I don’t know why you thought that plan would work. You’re fucking crazy, and its gonna get us all killed.”
That was it. The last strand of calm you had was just taken by Carson’s words. And with the anger surging through your head, the only thing you could do was punch him. Hard.
Carson stepped back with a look of shock across his face. He went to swing back, but you just hit him again.
The anger was practically steaming off of you when you left the mansion. You were losing your mind, quite frankly. Glenn had taken notice to it too, after he saw you sitting on the edge of the guard tower.
“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he said as you came to a stop next to him.
“Doing what?” you asked, not bothering to look at him. You were waiting for the other run party to come back, so you could at least pretend yours didnt fail.
“Hiding from me, and hitting Carson. Gregory will put you on trial. He’s already got people talking about it. He has them convinced you’re dangerous.”
You shrugged, unsure of what to say. The people of the hilltop were growing restless. Tensions were high, and people were growing worried about you.
They didn’t know anything about the world. Most of them had been inside the walls since they were put up in the beginning. You’d been through hell trying to get to someplace like this. Glenn knew this.
“You should stay in for a while, at least until it calms down a little,” he spoke softly, and it was then that you realized he was genuinely concerned for you.
You pushed past him and moved towards the ladder, trying to avoid the conversation you knew he was trying to have.
“Look,” he said, as you reached the bottom. “I just want you to be careful. Gregory’s been talking to the others about some kind of meeting. We just need to make sure that everything stays calm until we figure out what’s happening.”
You sighed. He was right, but there was more to it than he knew. You’d missed the fall of the prison. You’d been on a run and returned to find the fences down and the dead taking over. You’d found Terminus on your run and had a plan to come back and tell Rick about it. Naturally you went back, hoping that Rick and the others had found the same signs you did.
They’d locked you up, taking you out more than once to bring you to the slaughter house, only to taunt you with the idea of death before lugging you back into the darkness of the train car, torturing you for information on your group. They weren’t convinced that you’d come alone.
It was a couple days before the train car doors opened and shoved everyone you loved inside too. You never told them what had really happened, only that you’d gotten to Terminus before them.
“Okay,” you said finally.
That night, you couldn’t sleep. It seemed that the events of your past wouldn’ leave you alone. The trailer felt suffocating, and so did the walls. They always did.
You grabbed your pack from its place on the table and positioned your knife in its place at your hip.
It was quiet outside, more than usual. Gregory’s curfew kept everyone inside earlier than they used to be, and nobody dared to break his rules. He was more stubborn than ever, and his patience had grown thin, mostly because of you.
Your time outside was your solace. At night, you could see the stars more than you ever remembered. The wind blew through the trees and created a calming rustling sound.
You’d found a spot in the fence a long time ago. One that was lower than the others, and far enough from the mansion that if Gregory just so happened to look out the window he wouldn’t see you. But that didn’t mean that climbing the fence was easy.
It was the only workout you had since you’d been banned from runs. The fence was at least 10 feet tall in this particular spot, but had enough cross-sections within the beams that it could be climbed.
With one last peek over your shoulder, you began climbing. Once you were half way up, you threw your bag over to make the rest easier, hoping nobody heard the thud it made on the other side.
Reaching the top was your favorite part. You were high enough to see most of the camp behind you, and you loved the unobstructed view.
Your feet landed harshly on the other side, and you took a breath. Something about the air felt different on this side.
You missed being outside the walls. Even back at Alexandria you were never one to stay behind with the others.
You set off into the woods, where a clearing waited ahead. The wind rustled the leaves, and sent a chill up your spine, but you didn’t reach for the jacket you left in your bag, opting to let the chill take over your senses.
It reminded you of the winter before the prison. You’d given your jacket to a pregnant Lori, and Glenn tried to give you his after. You refused, but when you woke up later that night for watch, you found it draped over you.
You were so mad at him. He always valued your safety over his and you hated it. You wanted him to realize how much of an asset he was to the group, especially in times like these. He was so selfless, and he’d never admit to it.
At Terminus, he was only worried about you. Being shoved into that train car and realizing that you’d been there before him. He gave you his coat when you were shaking, but it wasn’t from the cold. Even when the rest of the group got there, you’d still been pulled out on your own. Each time worse than the last.
When Glenn, Rick and Daryl had been pulled out with you, you knew that was it. They came so close to killing him. Killing you.
The crunch of nearby leaves snapped you out of your memories, and you grabbed your knife, ready to swipe at whatever was coming towards you.
Except, you never got the chance, because the thing behind you was Glenn.
You dropped your knife, breath catching in your throat at the surprise.
You just stood there for a moment, Glenn in front of you. You were so sure nobody had seen you sneak out. You’d been so quiet, so careful.
He spoke finally, reaching out to grab your shoulders. You hadn’t realized you were shaking until his hands steadied you.
His voice broke through your thoughts, soft and steady.
“Are you okay?”
You looked at him, nodding.
“Just cold,” you spoke.
He moved behind you and unzipped your pack, grabbing the jacket you’d placed there earlier and handed it to you.
You grabbed it, handing him your pack to put the jacket on. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go without it.
“What are you doing out here?”
You shrugged, not ready to answer him just yet. A part of you knew he’d figure it out eventually. He was smart like that.
“What are you thinking about?”
You thought about what to say. You didn’t want to worry him, but he always worried about you.
You sighed, gathering yourself before turning back to him again.
“I was thinking about Terminus,” you said finally. His eyes widened, and he moved closer to you again.
He grabbed your shoulders again, steadying you for the millionth time.
“You shouldn’t worry about those things anymore, Y/N. We’re safe here.”
You moved his hands off of your shoulders so you could turn away. You couldn’t look at him right now.
“I can’t help it, Glenn. It just comes back to me sometimes,” your voice wavered.
He reached his hand out to you, but dropped it when you didn’t turn back to him. He was hurt. He wanted to help you, he always did.
“We should go back inside. It’s too cold out here. You’re shaking, Y/N.”
Your heart raced. You couldn’t go back inside. It was suffocating.
You turned back to him, in search of some kind of comfort that always came with being around him. It made you feel safer than any of the walls had ever felt.
“I can’t Glenn. I can’t go back there. Gregory is killing me, and I can’t just sit there while he kills people. He’s going to kill them, Glenn! This group is going to come, and they’re going to die because he won’t admit it and I can’t go through that again! I can’t go through that again! I won’t,” your voice shook as you spoke.
His face softened, a look of concern flashing across it for just a moment, so quick that you wouldn’t have caught it unless you were looking right at him.
“Y/N,” he reached out, and this time you accepted it. He was warm, and you accepted the heat that came with the hug. You didn’t think you were this cold.
“I’m not going to let that happen to you. I promise,” he said, his arms still wrapped around you. “I’ll speak to Gregory. We’ll get Jesus to help. I won’t let this happen to you again. Not anymore.”
You nodded against his shoulder, holding him for just another moment.
“You can’t jump the fence anymore. Next time, come find me, and I’ll stay up with you.”
You nodded again, not trusting your voice anymore.
“Let’s go back. In the morning we’ll talk to Gregory.”
You nodded again, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you back to the Hilltop, leaving behind the sound of the wind in the trees and the stars in the sky.
taglist: @wdaj48
#glenn rhee x reader#glenn rhee#The Walking Dead#the walking dead fanfiction#twd x reader#twd fanfiction#twd
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[2:00am]
You sat at the end of the table, swaying slightly in your seat. A department event was tonight and your friends finally convinced you to leave the house for once, claiming it would cheer you up.
"And I hate to admit it, but when he's nice, he's amazing," you sniffled. "And handsome."
You grabbed your friend's hands. "Like realllly pretty." You frowned.
"I hate him."
Your classmate looked at your friend amused.
"Is she going on about him again?" He sighed nodding.
"Damn she's been going at it for a while. Three weeks of just ranting about how horrible he was and how in love she was and crying."
"Why'd he have to say all that terrible stuff," you mumbled as you propped your face on your elbow. "Everything was so perfect." Your head nodded downward.
"Did you know she even had a boyfriend?"
"She blurted it out one day when Koko made fun of her for being single. But she studies all the time like she's in the library early in the morning, goes to classes, then studio, and I don't know when she even sleeps let alone have time to get a boyfriend."
"Or even hang out with him?" She spends her weekends either working or at the studio." Your friend frowned. "I kept trying to get her out of the apartment but-" they glanced at your half asleep figure. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea."
Their eyes widened as you laid your head on the table, cheek squished against the wood and facing away from them.
"y/n, y/n do you want to go home?" your friend tentatively asked.
"Nope, all good!" you threw a thumbs up high enough for him to see behind you without moving your head. "I'm just going to try to get the room to stop rocking." He nodded hesitantly and slowly your friends started conversing about school and other things while you tried to focus on your breathing. You closed your eyes in an attempt to reduce the strong pounding in your temple.
The door to the bar opened and a tall figure walked in scanning the bar. When his eyes landed on you, he drew in a sharp breath as he took in your slumped figure. Even half-passed out drunk, hair mussed, and head plopped on the table, you were so damn pretty.
"Is she sleeping," a familiar voice came from beside you and your eyes tightened in response. You were too out of it to register it and frankly to exhausted to care about whatever was happening around you.
"I don't think so," your other friend said, "But she was drinking a lot."
"y/n, let's go home." The voice was closer to your face now and you could almost feel the warmth radiating from the figure lowered in front of you.
"My head hurts," you whined.
"I know baby, let's get you some painkillers and then you can lie down."
Baby? He's real? Your friend mouthed at your other friend. He was shocked as he observed the very large man crouching in front of you with a soft expression. His yellow hair was a bit damp and his baby face had faint dark circles under his eyes. And you were right, he was handsome. They didn't expect your ex-boyfriend to look like that.
"Let's go pretty girl," he repeated and you slowly opened your eyes.
"'Tsumu I'm tired."
He swallowed as he felt the ache in his chest grow worse. You sounded so tired. A stark contrast to your usual lively self. Were you sleeping properly? Eating? You had a tendency to forget to eat...
You gazed at him and he resisted the urge to stroke your cheek.
"I know. I'm sorry." He frowned. "There's food at home though. Maybe that will make you feel better?"
You gave him a dreamy smile, "Yay food. Okay."
"Okay," he repeated, standing up while you attempted to.
"I don't think she would want you taking her if she was sober," your friend frowned. "y/n didn't you say this morning you didn't want to see him? What if he does something weird?" Atsumu opened his mouth with an offended expression when you said, "It's fine. He's an asshole but he wouldn't pull anything."
"Besides," you breathed, "I'm going to pretend tonight didn't happen anyway."
Ouch. Atsumu thought as you grabbed onto his wrist for support as you made your way out of the bar. When the cool air finally hit you, you sighed in relief as the throbbing in your head finally decreased. There was a small walk to the main road where the cabs were and you debated kicking off your shoes.
A squeal came from your mouth as you realised you were being picke dup.
"This'll be faster," Atsumu said as he carried you bridal style. He wasn't wrong and you didn't want to walk anyway so you just wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his warmth.
Having you in his arms and watching you automatically nuzzling into his chest made Atsumu clench his teeth, upset at the whole situation. If he hadn't messed everything up, maybe they would have been at home, snuggling or watching a movie. Or he could have gone with her and met her friends and they would have gone home happily, safely with each other.
***
When you reached the apartment, you fumbled with your keys before stumbling in and turned to stare at Atsumu as he stepped in after you.
"I'm just going to make sure you get to bed and don't hurt yourself." He said with his hands raised. Your face was expressionless as you just turned and walked into your room, flopping on the bed.
"y/n you need to change," he said following you in. "And you said you hate waking up with makeup."
"I don't care," you said quietly and Atsumu closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath as he walked over.
"Princess, sit up for me? Please?"
You sat up sleepily rubbing your eyes.
"Leg," he ordered and you stuck it out in front of you so he could take your boot off. After doing the same with the other, you watched him disappear into the bathroom.
Is he actually here? You thought hazily. He shouldn't be right? I should kick him out.
But you felt the fatigue in your bones and couldn't find the energy to yell or tell him to leave. After the breakup, balancing everything in your hectic life and doing it all with a smile when all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and do nothing was apparently unsustainable.
Seeing Atsumu made you want to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He was your support and had always helped you through bad days. It was ironic that the person you wanted to comfort you and talk about everything with was the cause of the problem.
You were staring at the floor when you felt something damp on your face. Atsumu was slowly dabbing at your cheeks with a wipe, gently taking off your makeup. He wouldn't meet your eyes as you stared at him. His eyes were tired too and something in them didn't look right. HIs entire face seemed less...bright?
"Close your eyes for me." He shook his head, resisting the urge to kiss you and continued.
When you opened them back up he was finishing taking off the last bit of lipstick, mouth slightly open and then smiling softly when he said, "Okay done."
I'm still in love with you. You felt the words bubbling on your tongue.
I love you so much. He felt selfish at the thought.
You sighed and began unbuttoning your shirt and Atsumu's eyes widened.
"H-hey," pink tinged his ears, "Um I'll go get you some water."
It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. You slipped on a shirt thrown on the floor and pulled shorts on.
"You're wearing my shirt," he commented when he came back in. You glanced down and remembered how you had worn it for the past few weeks, trying to find any form of comfort from the hurt you felt.
"It doesn't smell like you anymore," you mumbled, crawling under the blankets. The instant relief you felt as you laid down almost made you moan. Atsumu didn't reply as he gently set the glass of water by your bed stand.
"I guess I'll go now," he said, standing a bit awkwardly and picking up his jacket from the chair. He froze when he reached the door as he heard a quiet sniffle. The desire to be in his arms was driving you crazy and you felt your willpower crumbling.
"Could you stay," you bit your lip and kept your eyes closed. "At least until I fall asleep?"
There was a silence and you cursed yourself for asking, feeling another pang in your chest at the rejection.
You felt the mattress dip and your eyes opened in shock as Atsumu laid down carefully beside you on top of the blanket. He stuck an arm under your neck while the other wrapped around your back and moved you closer to his chest. He smelled like home.
Your tears had finally stopped and both of you sighed in relief as the tightness in your chests lightened considerably and your bodies relaxing for the first time in a while.
"Does your head still hurt?" he asked quietly.
"A bit."
You felt a hand begin to stroke your hair, smoothing out any tangles before resting on your cheek.
"I miss you," he said to the darkness.
"Me too."
"I'm sorry," his thumb stroked your cheek.
"Okay." you moved up to place your head in the crook of his neck and he rested his chin on top of your hair, tightening his arms.
***
You woke up confused. How did I get home?
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a box of meds and a note stuck on top.
"I got you some hangover meds and coffee should be made in the pot. I know you hate waking up alone but I thought it'd be better if I wasn't here. I know it doesn't mean much but, I still love you."
Your lip trembled and you looked up at the ceiling to keep your tears from falling.
"You're such an ass," you whispered. He still loved you but you had already forced Atsumu Miya out of your heart and there was no going back now.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu angst#hq x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu x reader#atsumu drabble#atsumu miya x reader#ialreadyhaveaparttwolol#hq angst#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu drabbles
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Stitch - Damian
Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood.
The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.
“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.
You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.
You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”
“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.
“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”
“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.
“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”
Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.
“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.
Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”
You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”
“Do you remember how to sew?”
“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.
“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”
“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.
You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.
You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.
“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.
“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”
“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.
You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.
When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.
You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.
“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”
Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.
“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”
You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.
“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.
You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.
You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.
“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”
You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.
“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”
Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.
“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”
You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.
“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.
You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”
“No time,” he said.
“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”
“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.
“Please! I…”
“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.
“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”
“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.
“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.
“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.
Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.
Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.
“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.
You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”
It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.
“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”
You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.
Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”
You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.
#Damian Wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x y/n#BatFam#batfam x reader#batfam x y/n#damian wayne imagine#batfam imagine#batboys#batboys x reader#batboys imagine#robinchicklets
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goal: your heart
member: sunwoo
genre: fluff
word count: 5,423
synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.
a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)
You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.
Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.
But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.
Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.
“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”
“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”
“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.
“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”
The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.
Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.
A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.
You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.
“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.
“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”
“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.
“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.
The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.
“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.
To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.
Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.
“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.
Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.
“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.
“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.
“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.
“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.
“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.
Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.
Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.
Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.
When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.
“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.
You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.
“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.
“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.
“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.
Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.
“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”
Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.
“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.
“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”
“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.
“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.
“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.
“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.
“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”
Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.
He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.
“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.
“Oh, so you do think?”
“Hey!”
“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”
“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”
“How do you know I’m the president?”
“I asked around.”
You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.
You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.
You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.
“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”
After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.
“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”
He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.
“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”
“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.
The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.
He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.
Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.
Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.
Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.
His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”
“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.
You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.
Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.
“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.
“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.
“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.
“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.
“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”
You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.
“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.
He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.
Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.
The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.
You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.
After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.
You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.
“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.
A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.
“A challenge to be anticipated.”
“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”
“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”
“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”
“Damn so she rejected me for him?”
Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.
“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.
“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.
“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.
“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.
You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.
Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.
You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.
You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.
This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.
“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.
“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.
“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”
His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.
“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.
“Anything. Everything.”
So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.
You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.
With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.
But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.
Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.
“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.
“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”
“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”
You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.
“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.
When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.
“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.
“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”
Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.
Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.
As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.
Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.
Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.
Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.
Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.
“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”
“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.
“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.
“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”
Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.
That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.
“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.
This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.
Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.
So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.
“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.
“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.
Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.
You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.
“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”
Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.
The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.
“You look beautiful today,” he commented.
“Only today?” you laughed.
“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
“Are you drunk?” you blinked.
“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”
His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.
“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.
Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.
So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.
The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.
Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.
Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.
“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.
“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.
The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.
Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.
Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.
When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.
“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.
KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?
You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.
A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?
You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.
“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”
“Wow she clearly has a type.”
“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”
“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”
“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”
“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”
“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”
Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.
Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.
Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.
“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.
“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.
“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.
“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”
“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”
“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”
“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.
“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.
Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.
“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.
“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”
“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.
You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.
“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”
And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.
“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.
“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”
“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.
“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.
“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.
“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”
“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.
#deobiwritersnet#the boyz#sunwoo#the boyz sunwoo#the boyz fluff#sunwoo fluff#the boyz sunwoo fluff#the boyz imagines#sunwoo imagines#tbz fluff#tbz imagines#the boyz fic#sunwoo fic#tbz fic#the boyz scenarios#sunwoo scenarios#tbz scenarios#star player collab
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i've been on fire, dreaming of you
or alternatively, when both you and jean thought you lost each other
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anonymous requested: hello there! I love your stuff. if requests are open, may I request a canonverse post-rumbling jean x fem reader where y/n is wounded + passed out from exhaution after the rumbling and wakes up warm and safe, with jean tending to her wounds. Y/n is shocked bc she remembers how she almost lost Jean (she didn't get turned into a titan, maybe she isn't Eldian?) and she just shoots straight up to embrace Jean without realizing the intensity of her wounds. Jean gets extra worried so he has to gently guide her back to lying down on the bed because she has a fever and her injuries aren't all better yet 🥺👉👈 maybe they cuddle afterwards until she falls asleep or smth aaaaaa 🥺
pairing: jean x fem! reader
wc: 2.7k+
tags: angst to fluff, cursing, female reader, mentions of death, blood and violence, hints of blasphemy (?), mentions of injuries, aot manga spoilers.
a/n: sorry this took so long, (i was shadowbanned) i changed up the request a teensy bit but otherwise i hope you enjoy !!
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Hot, burning, searing pain is the last thing you remembered before your vision went black.
That and the sight of the man you loved transforming into the one thing you feared the most.
Whether it was the heartache or the open wounds on your body that made you lose consciousness, you don’t know.
Truthfully, you were angry at Jean.
It was a whispered confession on the Azumabito airship. You and Jean sat in the corner, Captain Levi and Pieck in front of you, eyes cast away. The rest sat in silence, reeling from the situation that had played out on the ground below, quietly preparing themselves for the hell that awaited them at Fort Slava.
Jean’s hands were trembling; you would expect that after years of seeing your comrades die at the hands of humans and titans alike, you would get used to the death.
This wasn’t that, though; this was a different fear and anxiousness. Jean’s hands were clammy and his face pale; you could gauge that from one look at the man next to you, whatever worries were bubbling inside him were the accumulation of all the events from the past couple of days.
Jean was a collected man most times; as commanding officer, he didn’t have a choice but to be stoic and calm in the face of danger. But when that facade began to crumble, you would be there to ground him, remind him of why he was fighting. You knew that if you locked eyes at that moment, Jean would be able to see right through the front you were putting up, see the fear etched into your irises as you all were hurtling towards your deaths. So instead, you made the executive decision to swallow that panic and be that rock he needed, offering him your hand.
You took hold of his hand, staring ahead, and squeezed it three times, a reminder for both him and you that at least you still had each other. You could feel his eyes on you after you performed the simple gesture, but you continued to look ahead, focusing on the clouds, knowing that a couple of meters below, havoc was being wreaked by those mindless titan drones.
He said it so faintly, so lightly that you barely heard it past the sounds of the engine reverberating around the metal cabin.
“I’ll love you now and forever, even when I’m a pile of burnt bones.”
It’s like he knew. It was his way of saying goodbye to you. And you ignored him.
You clenched your jaw and pretended that you didn’t hear, pushed it to the back of your mind because this was no place for hushed confessions of love and, even more so, goodbyes. You were sure as hell were not letting Jean say goodbye to you. There would be no reason to, not if you had it your way. The both of you were bound together, and goodbyes were never to be uttered between the both of you.
Even when I’m a pile of burnt bones.
Is that what remains of him now? The muscle, sinew, and skin that pieced Jean together all reduced to ash and soot? The body that you had spent hours tracing, memorizing every detail of scattered in the wind. You would never feel the weight of his body on yours again, be able to graze your fingers over the scars littered on his torso, feel the way his heart would beat against your hands.
Jean Kirstein would only exist in your mind from now on.
He had left you alone with nothing but his memory, but even then, it was plagued by the image of a senseless titan taking the shape of Jean.
You wished to go back and tell him to shut up, never to utter those words again. Tell him to get those foolish notions out of his head, slap your hands over his mouth, silencing him, so that you could continue to live in your deluded reality that both of you would make it out alive. Tell him that he was selfish, of leaving you here to endure this torment by yourself.
Would that stop the scathing agony you were feeling?
Maybe this was hell you were in, you thought. That you were being punished for ignoring him, that you were the foolish one. Perhaps you should’ve held him tight to you, found a way to fold himself into you, so you wouldn’t have to suffer alone. Were you angry at Jean, or was that resentment directed at yourself?
The pain spread from your chest to your arms, down your legs, coursing through your veins.
You should have looked at him, told him that you were just as scared; maybe that could have changed his fate. If only you repeated those words back to him. He would still be here now.
I’ll love you now and forever.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
Bring him back to me.
The silent prayer came from the depths of your heart; whether God or who knows what would hear it, you didn’t know, but the thought of having to live with this ache was enough for you to continue repeating the mantra in your head.
--
Jean looked at your unconscious form that laid next to his seat. If it wasn’t for the gentle rising and falling of your chest, he could have sworn you were dead.
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
Jean had made peace with the fact that he would die when he transformed into a titan. Seeing you, like this, however, barely grasping onto your own life, made his body ache; he was okay with dying, but the thought of having to live without you was a fate worse than death.
He reached over to grab your hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of your palm before grasping it and squeezing it three times. He let go of it, placing it back gently over the top of your torso.
It was time to change your bandages and clean your wounds. Jean was a strong man; he had seen firsthand what a titan could do to one’s body, but his hands quivered as they unwrapped the bloodied bandages from your thigh. One singular thought overcame his mind.
Was he the reason that you were injured this badly? Did he hurt you?
Jean had spent many nights tending to your injuries, his hands careful when it came to you. However, the cuts and gashes he would tenderly patch up would always be inflicted by other humans or titans. Never did he think that his hands would be capable of hurting you. Jean was disgusted with himself as he stared straight ahead at his hands, now covered in blood.
The worst part of this, Jean thought, was that he couldn’t even remember if he was responsible for this, or maybe, that was a blessing. Recalling the situation would drive him into madness. The man winced at the thought of his arms tearing up your body.
He reached over to the tiny side table holding the medical supplies, grabbing the antiseptic solution. Dabbing it on a cloth, he attentively cleaned the wound, instinctively checking for your reaction. You would always make a fuss when he would apply it, but Jean averted his eyes once he realized that there was no reaction from your comatose form.
Usually, he would scold you when you would pull back from his hands when he tended to your wounds, but now any response would be better than having to tolerate the silence in the tiny room.
Jean got up to clean his hands in the basin, warm water turning red once he dipped his hands in. This was his punishment; he would have to suffer the consequences of his actions. The both of you were alive; Jean knew that he should be grateful, get on his hands and knees and thank the gods above. However, why should he be thankful? It was cruel. The both of you were not alive by the grace of God; this wasn’t mercifulness or benevolence.
What good is living if you have to sit and watch the one you love the most deteriorate in front of your eyes.
“You need to sleep; this isn’t healthy.” Connie was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Although he was speaking to Jean, his eyes were transfixed on you.
Jean didn’t need to look at himself to know how terrible he looked. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his face pale and gaunt. He spent his days and nights in your room, never wanting to miss the moment when you would wake up.
If. If you woke up, not when. Even that was not guaranteed.
“I’m not leaving her side, Connie.” Jean dried his hands on the cloth next to the basin. He turned his head to look at his friend, whose eyes were now staring back into his.
Connie understood the situation; he wanted you to wake up as well, but it pained him to see Jean suffer like this, “Spending your days sitting next to her waiting for her to wake up won’t help her, Jean.”
“You don’t think I fucking know that?” Jean slammed his hand down on the basin, hair falling in front of his face. Connie’s eyes widened at his friend’s action; to say that Jean was frustrated would be an understatement.
“You got your mom back, Annie got to see her dad, even those damn kids found each other. I got her back, but it’s my fault she’s like this.” Jean gritted his teeth, lip quivering.
Connie’s heart sank; he had seen Jean at his worst, but this was almost unbearable to witness. He made his way over to the hunched-over man and squeezed his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault Jean. This is difficult, believe me, I know, but you can’t be blaming yourself.” Connie’s eyes flickered your form, and he clenched his jaw.
Jean shifted his head, sullen eyes peering at your face through strands of hair; the man shook his head as a sob escaped his lips, “I need her to wake up Connie. I can’t live without her; I don’t know how to.”
--
You felt a gentle breeze on your face and an odd pressure around your ribs. Laying still for a moment, you waited for the pressure to subside, but instead, it made its way down to your thigh. You tried to open your eyes, but it was as if they were glued shut; there was no strength left in your body.
How many days had it been? Where were you?
Questions circled amidst your clouded mind as you lay immobile. You realized that the pressure you were feeling on your body was the weight of someone’s hands. How badly were you injured?
Memories flooded into your mind as you became aware of the situation you were in currently. Someone had rescued you at Fort Slava, and you were being treated at a medical facility by nurses. No, not nurses; the hands felt oddly familiar. They were careful and precise in their movements but carried tenderness as well.
You tried to take a deep breath in, to gather strength to move any one of your limbs, but paused immediately as the pain in your ribs was far too great. Shallow breaths would suffice for the time being. You began to focus on moving your fingers, channelling whatever energy you had left to at least get them to move.
The sheets underneath your fingers were soft as you gently moved your digits along the fabric. The hands on your thigh briefly paused before continuing their movements. You waited a minute before moving again, this time lifting your hand.
You couldn’t feel the hands on your body anymore.
Whoever had been treating your wounds whispered your name. It was a man, but you weren’t able to recognize their voice as everything was still groggy.
The man sharply inhaled, his voice shaking as he said your name once again.
You mustered the strength to open your eyes; your eyelids were heavy and hard to fight to keep open. The room was blurry and far too bright for your liking, but you continued to blink, and soon, the details surrounding you came into focus. The figure was still, waiting for your next move; you lolled your head to the side to get a better look at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He slowly came into focus; he was holding your hand between his and planting kisses on the back of your palm.
Why was he apologizing? Who was he?
Your heartbeat quickened as his voice became more apparent; this had to be some sick nightmare. You slowly sat up and reached out to him to cement the fact that this couldn’t be real. Your hand made contact with his knee; he was warm, he was alive.
Tears were running down your cheeks as your eyes scanned up his frame until landing on his face. Jean stared back at you, eyes wide, your hand still held in his.
Your face contorted as you took in the sight in front of you; you were so sure you had lost him, and yet here he was. Sitting up fully, you used your free hand to grip on to his white button-down and pull him into you with whatever remaining strength you had. Jean dropped your hand, and you swiftly wrapped both of your arms around him, eyes fluttering shut to take in his presence.
A pile of burnt bones.
It wasn’t a dream; you could feel his heartbeat against your body, feel his hair against your cheek. You sobbed into the crook of his neck, ignoring the immense pain you were feeling, scared that if you let him go, he would scatter in the wind.
“Jean, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you-” Your voice was scratchy and hoarse, still weak from the slumber which had woken from a few minutes ago.
He brought a hand up to rest against your head, “I’m the one who’s sorry; why are you apologizing?” Jean pulled away from you, causing you to wince.
You furrowed your brows in confusion; he gently laid you back down on the bed before continuing, “I hurt you when I transformed into a titan; I’m the one who’s responsible-” Jean paused, his eyes landing on the gauze on your upper leg.
He wasn’t making any sense to you; shaking your head, you frowned at him, “What do you mean? I saw you transform before I passed out; I got injured by the rubble falling from the fort.”
“I should be apologizing, not you. When we were in the airship, you told me you loved me, and I ignored you, Jean, and then I thought you died and lost you. I’m terrible-” You looked up at him through teary eyes; Jean wiped your tears before kissing your cheeks.
“All this time, I was scared that I had almost killed you, and here you thought that I was dead.” He whispered, hands caressing your cheek.
“You’re not dead right; if I close my eyes, you’ll still be here?” You brought your hand up to hold his, letting out a shaky breath.
“No, my love, I’m not dead, and I’m not going anywhere.” Jean pressed a light kiss to your forehead. You cautiously sat up before moving over slightly to make room for him on the small bed.
“Can you lie here with me? Don’t wanna let go of you yet.” He nodded his head before getting up from his seat to lie next to you.
You placed your head on his chest, eyes fluttering shut. Your hand traced the buttons on his shirt, slowly getting lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady heartbeat.
Jean’s fingers skimmed your side; overwhelming happiness filled his chest; he was relieved that you were alright and that he hadn’t been the one at fault for your current state. He felt you press a kiss where his heart was, and his lips curled into a smile.
“You know why I said what I said on the airship?”
“Hmm, why?” Your ears piqued in interest.
“Because I knew that even if I died, I’d find you again, somehow somewhere.”
You let out a sigh, silently thanking whoever it was that answered your prayers.
I love him and you brought him back to me.
a/n: i hope you enjoyed this !! any feedback is appreciated !! i tried something a little different than how i usually write, so please don't be shy to tell me if you liked it or not and what could be improved !!
also i apologize for not being active these past couple of days, my tumblr went haywire and i was shadowbanned, its all fixed now but again super sorry !!
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#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein#jean kirstein#attack on titan#aot#aot x reader#aot fluff#jean kirschtein imagine#jean kirstein fanfiction#jean kirstein fluff#jean kirstein imagine#jean kirschtein x you#jean x y/n#snk#snk x reader#snk imagines#jean kirstein x you#jean kirschtein x y/n#jean kirstein x y/n#attack on titan x reader#my writing#jean kirstein angst#jean angst#jean fluff#jean kirschtein angst#jean kirschtein fluff#aot angst#snk angst#connie springer
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The Compliment Game
Title // The Compliment Game
Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader
Warnings // Light amount of cussing. Some cute fluff and a bit of spice at the end.
Summary // Buck poses as your fake boyfriend at a friend’s birthday party.
Word Count // 3k
You stared at the invitation before you, trying to hold back a laugh. Having just got the mail, you found a pink envelope mixed in with your bills. The envelope had elegant script and for a moment, you thought you were invited to a wedding. Upon opening the envelope and pulling out the card, your suspicions still stood in place. Glitter fell to the floor and the invitation was written in such a beautiful script, except it was not for a wedding at all. It was for a birthday party. Your childhood friend Viola’s birthday party.
The invitation included a dress code, which basically stated prom attire. Yeah, fat chance of that happening. There was also a list on the back of the invitation with appropriate albeit expensive gifts to buy for the birthday girl. Cool, so money it is!
The invite was definitely in line with Viola’s personality. The two of you were supposedly childhood best friends, and as you grew up, you realized that Viola was a bit of an embellisher. She told the most insane stories, some you knew to be completely fake since you were there when certain events happened. It was like she always had this need to one up everyone she met.
The two of you barely talk now since you distanced yourself from her, but honestly, she was still your friend. However, since Viola liked to embellish, who says you couldn’t either? Why not one up the birthday girl at her own birthday? Maybe she needed a healthy dose of her own medicine.
The wheels were turning as you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts before landing on Evan Buckley’s name. He was, in all honestly, the hottest man you knew. While he was only a recent friend, he was the best option for what you had in mind.
You called him, hearing the phone ring a few times.
“What a coincidence,” Buck said when he answered the phone, “I was just talking about you.”
You were surprised that you were on his mind, especially in the middle of the day. You were sure he was at work too, which only seemed to excite the butterflies in your stomach.
“Hey,” you said, unable to hide your growing smile, “I got an invite to a birthday party. Want to go with me as my fake boyfriend?”
“Whoa,” you heard Buck say on the other line and you could just sense the confused expression he had on his face, “wait, what?”
You stared at the invitation, knowing full well that this would be the perfect event to have a little fun and maybe put Viola in her place. However, you took what few precious minutes you had on the phone with Buck to explain everything. You talked about your friendship with your friend, and how she just continued to make up her entire life story in order to appear interesting. It was either that or for attention, you weren’t sure which one.
“Basically, I just want to show off the hottest guy I know, so are you in or what?” you finished. You were out of breath from rambling quickly to share your story. You never knew when the alarm bell was going to go off because of a fire or something.
“And you thought of me? I’m touched. Sure, I’ll do it. But you owe me a beer,” Buck said. You could practically hear him grinning on the other side of the phone. “I’ll pick you up after my shift. Say, eight?”
You agreed and the two of you hung up.
This was perfect. Now the party would be very interesting. Who knew what was going to happen?
The hours ticked by and you were dressed. You texted Buck your address and waited for him to show up. He knocked on the door and you truly felt giddy and nearly pranced to the door in excitement. You weren’t looking forward to the party at first, but spending time with Buck? That was clearly a game changer.
Having relayed the dress code to the firefighter beforehand, you were in awe of his outfit choice. Buck was sporting a casual black suit. It wasn’t the fanciest of outfits but that didn’t matter. He looked like a stunner. It was nice seeing him out of his usual fire uniform or regular t-shirts. You could tell he put effort into his appearance for the night.
You, on the other hand, took a page right out of Princess Diana’s playbook. You wore a black dress, your favorite LBD, with some strappy heels. It was your own revenge dress, and you knew it wouldn’t exactly fit in line with the dress code of the night, but did you really care?
You were only going to support your childhood friend and nothing else. You had a card for her with some cash and that was it. You were going to make nice and leave when the cake was cut. That was called being a good friend, you at least showed up to the events you were invited to.
Viola’s parents owned a ranch and she lived in a house on her parent’s property. The drive was smooth, with you and Buck jamming to 80’s tunes and timing the red lights. He was such a charmer, just like he was the day you met him.
There were a few cars when you arrived, and Buck easily parked along the rocky path. Both of you got out and made your way to the front door. Being polite, you knocked.
The door opened instantly, almost like someone was literally waiting on the other side.
Viola appeared and your eyes almost popped out of your head. Apparently the “elegant prom” theme was still ongoing, since she wore a floor-length white gown. It looked like a cross between a prom dress and a wedding dress. Your eyes caught Buck’s, who was standing next to you. He looked horrified. Perhaps he was just now realizing your over exaggerations were not over exaggerations.
His mouth fell to the floor, not from awe, but from shock. The birthday girl cascaded along the floor. Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun and she wore a crown. Not a cute little tiara, but a full blown one thousand gems kind of crown. The kind of crown that was obviously from a costume store, since you knew Viola wasn’t fabulously wealthy like she pretended to be and there was no way she would be able to afford the same jewels as Queen Elizabeth.
“Oh, who is this?” Viola asked you when she saw Buck. No hello. No how are you. She just immediately noticed the eye candy on your arm with absolutely no regard for you, her supposed best friend.
You had to give the firefighter some credit. He cleaned up very well. He sported a business casual suit, not at all falling in line with whatever prom theme that was happening. Then again, you did not either with your little black dress.
“This is Evan Buckley,” you said, trying to put on the best sincere smile that you could muster, “my boyfriend. Happy birthday, Viola.”
Your best friend (although, let us be honest, that is a bit of a stretch at this point), did not seem convinced nor did she thank you for the nice birthday message. Instead, she turned her sights onto the man next to you, and you felt a small hole in your heart forming. If Viola went after Buck… it would not be pretty.
“Boyfriend, huh? What do you do?” Viola asked as she extended out a hand, and you cringed when you saw the white corsage that sat on her wrist.
Buck, being as polite as ever, shook her hand and kept his smile. “I’m a firefighter with the LAFD.”
“What a coincidence!” Viola said with a smile, “My boyfriend works for the LAPD. Maybe you know each other.”
Buck was catching on and there was a sort of twinkle in his eyes as he looked at the birthday girl. “I have friends in the LAPD. What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”
The fact that Buck was pressing for more information caught Viola off guard. She acted busy, acted like someone was calling her name, but you didn’t hear anyone. “Oh, that’s for me. I’ll talk to you guys later, yeah?” she sauntered off quickly, almost like she was rushing away as fast as she could so that you didn’t have a chance to call her back.
Buck turned to look at you with a quizzical expression as if to say, what the hell was that? You only shrugged your shoulders and whispered that Viola doesn’t have a boyfriend, ending the statement with a blatantly obvious eye roll.
The two of you made your way into the house where the party was in swing. No one else looked like Viola, no one else sported fancy gowns or black tie suits. In fact, a few of the party guests were wearing jeans. That must’ve been a highlight in the tea drinking gossip Viola was probably spewing in the corner with some other friends. Is it time to leave yet?
You led Buck outside to the fenced in backyard. There were a few guests here and there, but it wasn’t a massive turnout. Both of you sat on a wrought iron garden bench, away from most of the crowd. It was kind of nice to be there at the party but not really participating or engaging in small talk with the other guests.
“You know,” Buck broke the silence with a smile, “being your fake boyfriend is a lot of work.”
You rolled your eyes and turned to look at him, returning the smile. “You only agreed once I said you were the hottest person I know.”
“Listen, that’s a compliment I don’t hear often,” Buck sat back along the bench, keeping his eyes on you.
“Should I keep them coming?” you asked, and it surprised you that there was a little bit of a tease to your voice. You never noticed that before.
“How about this? You compliment me, I compliment you. I feel that is only fair,” Buck responded.
It took a moment for you to forget that you were actually at a birthday party for someone else. In this moment, on this bench, everything around you seemed to fade into the background.
“I like your suit.”
“I like your dress.”
Okay, starting out kind of simple here but it did make you smile. You thought you wore the dress to impress Viola. Maybe you wore the dress to impress him? Did your subconscious plan that?
“You are very good at your job,” you responded.
His eyes were alight and there was that twinkle again. You could stare into his eyes forever, they were stunning, just like everything else about him.
“Not exactly a compliment, you haven’t seen what I can do,” Buck said with a smirk. That was when he pulled the move. The fake-stretch put-an-arm-around-you move. What in the fresh hell was that? Because, and this is what shocked you the most, it actually worked on you.
“You’re beautiful,” Buck said.
Fuck, he won the compliment game. Your face flushed, fast and hard, creeping down to your neck and down your spine. You had to look away from him, and you heard him laugh when you did.
You didn’t get to enjoy the moment for long because you heard Viola approaching the two of you, with some minions behind her. You looked at her. Her white dress was absolutely blinding in the fading sunlight and you squinted just to see straight.
Buck stood up to greet her and you did the same, smiling politely at her.
“Sorry about that. Being the birthday girl means never ending attention. Anyway, Y/N didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend. How did you two meet?” Viola said. There was a sudden look in her eyes, and you knew. You knew she was catching on, pulling on loose threads to see what would unravel.
You felt Buck slip his hand in your own and he didn’t miss a beat. “Y/N locked her keys in her car. I just happened to be driving by.”
That was the truth. That was literally how the two of you met. If fate were a thing, you would swear that was how you guys met, through some act of divine fate. But you remained quiet.
“Forgive me, but I’m having a hard time believing this. If you are really Y/N’s boyfriend, then kiss her,” Viola said. She seemed to be smirking, like she trapped you and Buck in a corner, like it was a big reveal that your relationship with Buck was fake.
Buck inhaled deeply, like he needed to calm down a bit. His hand gripped yours tightly, but you could feel that it was tensing up. Thank god for that, because you didn’t know how he would react if you didn’t keep him grounded and firmly planted next to you.
“Y/N,” Buck said, and your head snapped to his attention. He was looking at you. Once your eyes fell into his line of sight, he swooped in. His free hand went to the side of your face, caressing the soft skin of your cheek. His lips landed on yours, moving delicately, gently. You were not in control of your body as you felt yourself pushing into Buck’s muscular physique. When he pulled away, your lips quite literally pulled down into a frown. You didn’t want the kiss to end, and it showed.
Once the environment came back into view and you were aware of your surroundings, you quickly fixed your expression and turned to look at Viola, who looked slumped and defeated in her white gown. Perhaps she truly felt she was going to win the game you and Buck were playing, and she wasn’t prepared for the outcome.
“Is that enough proof or do you need more?” Buck quickly looked at Viola, and he didn’t look very happy. Viola got the hint. She disappeared as fast as she arrived, with her entourage scattering in different directions. Once she and her friends were gone, Buck turned to you and said, “I don’t like that girl.”
You were still in a bit of a fog from the kiss, and you could feel your lips tingling for more. The sensation would not go away.
Eventually, much to your chagrin, it hit you. The moment was over, you proved your point. No need in keeping things going. You did your job, made your appearance with a devilishly delicious man on your arm, and now you can go home and leave Buck alone. He probably was not thrilled with the outcome of events, given the look on his face.
“I think it’s time to put an end to the fake boyfriend thing,” you said with a frown as you looked at him.
There was something new to his expression, an unconvinced look as he shook his head. “Maybe I want to be the real thing someday.”
Was this playful banter or was he serious?
“That would require going on a real date,” you said. You grabbed him by the arm, keeping up with appearances as the two of you walked to the gate in the fence. You unlatched the opening and watched the gate swing open.
“So ask me.”
You stared at him in confusion as the two of you slowly walked toward the car. It was starting to get interesting again.
“Ask you what?” you replied.
“Ask me out,” he said suddenly, not missing a moment.
Your heart was erratic at this point, and you let go of his arm now that the two of you were away from the party.
“Dearest Evan Buckley, would you do me the absolute pleasure of going on a date with me?” you said sarcastically.
He wasn’t playing games anymore. Without a warning, he had you pinned against the car, leaving very little wiggle room. Your body pressed along the passenger side door, and you felt his hands rub against your waist. You were facing him, and you wished you weren’t. Looking at that incredibly handsome face was becoming a weakness. Your knees shook as you tried to steady yourself.
He leaned in and whispered in a soft voice. “Try again.”
You felt his hot breath against your ear as he kissed the sensitive spot under your earlobe. An explosion of tingles erupted throughout your body as his lips brushed against your weak spot.
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Any louder and you were afraid how shaky and trembling your voice would sound. First, he won the compliment game, now he was winning whatever this was.
“Ask again,” Buck whispered in your ear.
One of your arms ran up his, and fuck, that was a mistake. The bulging muscles were almost too much for you to bare.
“Will you go out with me?” you whispered.
You felt his lips leave a trail from your neck, across your jawline, ending with a sweet peck against your lips as he smiled.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said as he opened the car door behind you, “Let’s go get that beer.”
It was easy to slide into the car since you were already a puddle of goo. Your whole body was on fire just from his touch. Buck walked around the car and entered the driver’s side. He turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life. His hand reached for yours and you accepted it instantly.
How in the world did the evening turn out like this? And where in the world was it going to go? You could only wonder as Buck began driving. Inviting him to a party as your fake boyfriend was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t wait to see what else was in store tonight.
#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x you#Buck#buck x reader#buck x you#9-1-1#9-1-1 on fox#9-1-1 fic#oliver stark
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