#no because i even used index cards this time to help me move along a little AND THEN I DIDNT PICK THEM UP

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 5

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve is still recovering from his injuries. She's just trying to help. But tensions run high when they clash over who knows best.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, really rough sex, degradation kink, slight dubcon, also angst because, duh

a/n | wooh boy! I got a little carried away here, folks. Had the day off and couldn't help myself. get yourself a tall glass of water and sit down for a long one

“You’re healing nicely, son. I’ll send another refill script to your pharmacy for the oxycodone and I wanna see you back in a month, alright? Wanna keep an eye on those headaches you’re having.” Steve grunts out a thank you to the doctor as he’s led back to the front desk. After three weeks, he’s still not used to seeing her, sitting and waiting for him after his appointments at the VA medical center. She’s been coming with him whenever she can and he would hate to admit how much it means to him. 

She offers him a bright smile from where she’s sitting in the waiting room, a large stack of index cards in her lap. With Thanksgiving next week, her exams are fast-approaching and she’s been studying so hard it makes Steve worry that she’s working herself to the bone, and that he hasn’t exactly been helping her stress-load. Since the week after Halloween, she’s all but moved in with him, save for when her RA job or classes demand she be on campus. She’s been taking care of him, and it both amazes and terrifies Steve that she’s willing to, while all he can really do is be a human rolodex for her endless supply of flashcards. She’s been having him quiz her in the evenings, her hands around his neck and her thighs straddling his waist as she rattles off insanely-smart sounding descriptions of the brain. His girl is studying neuroscience, and his girl is going to be a doctor, and then, Steve figures, his girl isn’t going to be his girl anymore. But for now, he’ll enjoy whatever sweetness she’ll give to him.

He finishes scheduling his follow-up, turning and finding her already standing with her bag slung over her shoulder. He opens the door for her and they step out into the sharp bite of the oncoming winter. 

“Well, what did he say?” Steve’s apartment is only a few blocks away from the medical center, so they set off down the sidewalk as she asks her question.

“Said everything looks good. My next appointment is in a month, gave me another prescription for the painkillers.” He feels her hand flex in his and he knows it’s because she doesn’t like the sound of that.

“What about your headaches?” He shrugs, glancing at her and seeing the worried look on her face.

“He said he’d keep an eye on it, whatever that means.” She stops in her tracks, fully looking at him now. He just sighs.

“Steve, I really don’t like how they’re just feeding you these pills. Has anyone said anything about getting you in an MRI machine?” He huffs, tugging her along to continue walking.

“Baby, it’s fine. Nothing new, really. Once I get back to work it’ll go away on its own, it always does.” His paid-time-off is ending after Thanksgiving, and Steve is chomping at the bit to get back into the station, to her much-vocalized dismay. She stops walking again, and he tries his best to tamp down his growing frustration.

“I still think you should let me–” “No.” “Steve.”

“No. You’ve already done way too much for me. I’m not letting you do that.”

“You would be helping me out by coming in. You know I need the practice, i-it’d be killing two birds with one stone.” She had told him two weeks ago about one of her specialty courses at the university medical center, conducting brain scans and assessments that were free to volunteer patients. She had been bugging Steve about coming in ever since, but he was putting his foot down on this one.

“Hey, I’m sick of all this nagging, alright? I told you it’s fine and I meant it. Making my fucking headache worse, jesus. Just wanna get home.” He can see her face crumple at his words and his stomach twists, but he’s too pissed off and cold to really feel sorry, instead squeezing her hand and continuing their walk home. She’s silent the rest of the way.

…

Steve is really starting to worry her. At first, he had seemed to be making a change, being endlessly sweet with her, letting her take care of him, even opening up a bit about his life. She knows his concussion symptoms are lasting well within a normal amount of time, but it seems like some of them are getting worse. He’s been more irritable, more reactive, his headaches are endless, but he won’t listen to a word she says about it. She had talked to Robin over the phone about it, and she had told her his irritability could also be stemming from the impending holiday. Steve wasn’t exactly on good terms with his family, something he had only hinted at to her, and hadn’t been home for Thanksgiving or Christmas in five years. As a result, he turned into a bit of a scrooge (Robin’s words) the instant that the holiday season kicked up.

Perhaps more than anything though, she doesn’t understand why he’s so eager to get back to work after he nearly died on the job. She had actually started inquiring at her school about admittance for veterans, reading whatever information she could get her hands on. It’d be practically free at a state school like Indiana University, with vets nearly sure to be accepted. She hadn’t yet broached the subject with him, knowing it’d probably lead to a huge blowout argument, but she had convinced him to do Thanksgiving with her, just the two of them, and was planning to get him good and sedated on turkey and stuffing before bringing it up.

When they get back to his place after his appointment, he barely looks at her, mumbling that he’s going to lie down for a while. She already knows he’s going to be looking for his bottle of oxycodone, which she had flushed down the toilet that morning. She had talked to one of her supervising professors about the medication, posing questions from a place of clinical curiosity, and had learned just how wickedly potent the stuff was. Steve shouldn’t have been on it for more than a week max, and it was now coming up on a month of doctors filling the prescription for him. She had decided then and there that she was going to get him off it, kicking and screaming if she had to. 

She sits down on the couch, pressing her fingers into her temples and waiting for his inevitable question about where his pills are. She can hear him rummaging in the bathroom, and then in the nightstands in his bedroom. All of the sudden, his movements still, and she can hear his bare feet padding back into the living room. Her heart sinks when she sees that he’s holding the pamphlets she had gathered about veteran’s admission to IU in his hand. She must have left them in the nightstand on her side of his bed. Shit. His expression is cool, steeled, as he waves the pamphlets in front of her.

“Care to tell me what this is?” Her mouth had gone completely dry, and a thickness settled in her throat. 

“Um, I– um–” He cuts her off, shuffling over to stand in front of her, bending at the waist to get in her space. 

“Um, um, um. C’mon, miss college. Thought you were a big girl. Use your words.” He’s practically sneering at her with the way he’s talking and it makes her feel impossibly small under his flashing gaze. She gulps a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“Steve, I’m just trying to help–” He scoffs, standing back upright and starting to pace the floor.

“You think you know what’s best for me? Think you’re so much smarter than me, huh? Gotta help your poor, stupid boyfriend get along, is that it?” She shakes her head vigorously, going to stand but he’s back on her in an instant, resting his hands on the back of the couch to cage her between his arms. She shrinks back into the seat.

“That’s not what I think, Steve. I-I just want you to have options, that’s it! All I did was ask around in the admissions office, it doesn’t mean a-anything, baby. I just thought it’d be helpful for you.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his sharp eyes fixing her in place. 

“Well it’s not. Quit trying to mess with shit you don’t understand.” With that he’s turning heel so fast it makes her choke, storming back into the bedroom. A beat later she starts hearing loud clattering.

“Where are my fucking pills? Goddamnit!” She jumps in her seat at his roaring words, punctuated by the sound of what she assumes is one of his nightstands getting thrown on the floor. She sits there for a moment trying to steady her breathing, the continuous sounds of slamming drawers and muttered curses coming from Steve causing her heart to jump. Finally, all the commotion stills and she thinks to herself that she liked it better when he was at least making sound.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowly stands, inching towards the bedroom on tenterhooks. She holds onto the doorframe, peering into the room. Both nightstands are tipped onto the floor, their drawers skewed open and the contents strewn on the floor. The wooden bureau that sits across from Steve’s bed has been shoved a few inches out of place, its drawers all open and the clothes usually neatly folded inside in various states of spilling out. Steve’s sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging harshly at the roots of his hair, his chest heaving. She really doesn’t want to do what she’s about to have to. She inches into the room, kneeling down in front of him to try to catch his gaze. She reaches out for him but he swats her hand away.

“Don’t. Fuck, baby. Don’t know where I put my damn pills. I-I need ‘em so bad right now.” His voice is a broken grumble and she feels a sharp twinge in her stomach at his words. It’s time to rip the band-aid off.

“Steve, baby? I know your head’s hurting, but you can’t keep taking those, ok? Why don’t I get you some advil?  I know it’s not the same, but we can do that combined with tylenol and it should start to help.” He finally looks at her, and the anger in his eyes is breathtaking, causing her to sit back on her haunches.

“What did you do with them?” She takes a sharp breath in, watching Steve’s knuckles go white where he’s still tugging at his hair. She’s not going to let him scare her, not on this. She squares her shoulders, slowly standing in front of him. She hates that there’s still a warble in her voice when she finally speaks.

“I-I threw them away, Steve. They’re no good for you, and that has become painfully clear this afternoon.” His jaw goes slack at her words, but he quickly catches himself, swallowing hard and glaring up at her.

“Well, that’s not really your decision to make, sweetie.” He stands, brushing past her out towards the front door, starting to toe on his shoes. She follows dumbly behind him.

“Where are you going?” He doesn’t even glance at her, already shrugging on his coat.

“The pharmacy. Gonna get my new prescription since someone has to make everything so goddamn difficult.” She swallows hard.

“I-I called the pharmacy this morning too. Told them that under no circumstances should they fill any more oxy scripts for you. Steve, please–” He lets out a bark of laugh that startles her where she stands, whistling low as he finally sizes her up.

“You are something else, bunny. Really think you know better than me, don’t ya?” He’s started slinking towards her, causing her to back up until she’s pressing up against the wall. He presses a forearm up by her temple, leaning into her. She’s trying to not dissolve on the spot.

“Steve, that’s not what this is about. I-I talked with one of my professors about those pills. He told me it's some of the nastiest stuff out there. People get addicted to them all the time. Please, I just wanna help you.” His other hand has come down to grip her hip harshly, his fingers flexing into the skin and sure to leave bruises.

“Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and stop trying to play doctor on me. You wanna help? Here’s how you can help. If you’re so hell-bent on taking away my pills, my relief, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me, don’t you?” She’s trying to steady her breathing, but can’t help the light gasps that rise as Steve nudges the slope of her neck with his nose. He harshly grabs her jaw, forcing her gaze to focus on his steely expression. She hates that there’s already a simmering heat trailing down her spine.

“Words, now.” 

“O-okay, Steve. I’ll m-make it up to you, w-whatever you want, baby. I’m s-s-sorry.” His smile is slick, not reaching his eyes.

“Want you on your knees, pretty. Can you do that? Be good for me and do what you’re told, for once.” 

“Yes, Steve–” He cuts her off with a sharp squeeze to her jaw that makes her whimper.

“Not my name. Not right now.” 

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be good for you.” Part of her wants to leave, just grab her bag and go. But she’s fixed to the spot by the way he’s looking at her. She figures it’ll be quick, a rough blowjob and then Steve will finally calm down, so she complies, kneeling down in front of him while he starts working at his belt buckle.

She goes to reach for his hips when he starts to unzip his jeans but he immediately swats her hands away.

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to touch. You don’t even get to think. That pretty head of yours has done enough thinking for a while. Just gotta sit there, open your mouth, and take it, you understand?” She nods as he comes behind her, drawing both her wrists back. When she feels the soft leather of his belt circling her wrists she shudders. She winces when he tugs the loop tight.

“C’mon, if you’re so smart why don’t you use your fucking words?” She gasps when he pulls on the belt, making her fall back onto her ass, her back crashing into his heaving chest.

“Yes, daddy. I understand.” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own anymore, entering that higher, breathier register that she knows only Steve can draw out. He grunts at that, squeezing her hips to help her back onto her knees before he’s getting up and coming back in front of her. He slips his jeans and boxers down just enough to tug his cock out, already hard as he fists himself. Stepping forward, he cards his fingers through her hair, tugging harshly to tilt her face up towards him.

“Open your mouth, bunny. You better be good for me.” She complies, letting her jaw slacken and Steve’s on her in an instant, forcing his thick cock past her lips as he holds onto her hair for leverage. She can’t help the small, sputtering chokes that come out around his length as he already begins fucking her mouth, getting deeper with each thrust. Normally, he’d give her time to work her way up to taking all of him, it wasn’t exactly an option to just go for it with his length if she didn’t want to gag. But Steve didn’t seem too concerned with that today, already grazing her throat with his tip. 

“Fuck– that’s perfect– just take it, bunny– s’what your pretty little mouth is made for– don’t want you thinking– shit– or talking– just keep your lips around my cock all the time, huh?” She can’t exactly respond to his degrading words with the way he’s dragging her mouth up and down his cock, his fist in her hair guiding her. But she guesses he’s not really looking for a reply.

“What would your little egghead professors think– shit, take it– if they knew their star student spent her time sucking dick like a f-fucking whore, huh?” His words sting, but she hates to admit that they send a clenching ache right through her core too. Unfortunately, Steve seems to notice the way her thighs are clenching at his words and he lets out a jeering laugh.

“Aw, you like that, bunny? You like it when I call you a whore, huh? Guess you’re not as smart as you think you are, just a dumb slut for her daddy’s cock.” His thrusts are unrelenting, now hitting the back of her throat everytime, causing her to gag and sputter around his cock. She can’t help but wriggle her arms against the belt confining them, trying to find some purchase as he uses her mouth but with no success. On the next thrust, Steve’s hips still with his cock down her throat, her nose crushed up against his pelvis. Drool is dripping down her chin as she chokes around him. He just holds her there, and she starts to panic, trying to fight against the hold he has in her hair.

“You don’t need air, do you, pretty? Just need my cock down your throat, right? S’all you need, you stupid slut.” He finally relents, pulling out of her mouth and she’s a wheezing mess, coughing out exhales as she hunches over her shivering body. He’s still hard, but he tucks himself back into his boxers, watching her reel on the floor. Before she can catch her breath, he’s hauling her up by her armpits and pressing her back against the wall, her hands still bound behind her. The way he holds her jaw, fingers skating over her cheeks, is startlingly tender as he drinks in her cockdrunk appearance. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks.

“Look at you, bunny. So pretty for me.” Something in her snaps, her lip starting to wobble as tears pool over her lashes. Steve sighs and she shivers under his delicate touch as he wipes away the first tears to fall.

“What’s got you crying, baby? I don’t like it when you cry, at least not very much.” His grin is sardonic and entirely patronizing as he watches her crumble. She’s trying to stifle the sobs that want to flood her body, her words coming out on heavy shudders.

“You’re s-s-so mean, Steve. I-I j-j-just wanted to h-h-help you.” He tuts, drawing his fingers under her chin to tilt her eyes up to his.

“Aw, you did help, pretty. You and that perfect little mouth of yours. And you know what else? I think you liked it.” With that, he wrenches one of his hands into the front of her jeans, cupping her cunt and stroking harshly through her folds. She lets out a broken gasp at his brutal movement. Steve just chuckles.

“See, bunny? You’re fucking soaked. All because daddy fucked your little throat, huh?” He easily slips two fingers into her, curving them in a way that makes her let out a long, preening cry. She stumbles in his grip, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as he starts fucking her with his fingers.

“P-please, daddy, it’s too much.” He scoffs in her ear, not letting up with his relentless thrusts.

“I know what’s too much for you, bunny. Daddy knows what’s best, right?” When she doesn’t answer, his other hand comes down in a harsh crack on the outside of her thigh and she yelps.

“Y-yes, daddy. You know w-what’s best!” She can feel his smile in her hair as he abruptly removes his fingers, causing her to slump in his hold.

“Atta girl, I think that little brain of yours is finally starting to get it right.” She can’t tell where the pleasure ends and the pain from his words begins, but she knows that the more he says, the more poison that drips off his tongue, the smaller she feels in his grip. Holding her in his arms, he walks them over to the couch, facing her towards the arm rest and bending her over it, her cheek smearing into one of the cushions. Her arms are still bound behind her back and she’s all but given up tugging at them, but Steve seems to notice her squirming.

“If I take the belt off will you be good for me, bunny?” 

“Yes– yes, I will, daddy– please– be so good for you.” He shushes her, laying a kiss in the middle of her spine before finally unwinding the belt from her wrists. She flexes her hands, whimpering at the ache that’s already set into her joints. Steve presses a kiss to both of her wrists and she can’t help the shudder that runs through her at his gentle movements.

“There you go, baby. I know it hurts, I’m sorry. Gonna make you feel so much better.” His hands snake under her waist, undoing her jeans before sliding them down her legs. His rough palms splay over the swell of her ass, squeezing the flesh and making her gasp.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel good, bunny. I promise. But, I just don’t think you’ve quite learned your lesson.” She jolts at that, craning her neck to look at him.

“No– I have! I promise I have, daddy!” He chuckles, catching her off guard when he lands a harsh smack to her ass that sends her lurching forward into the couch.

“You saying you know better than daddy, baby?” She shakes her head, burying her face into her forearms.

“N-no, daddy. Just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Aw, pretty, you won’t learn if it doesn’t hurt, yeah?” He runs his palms up and down her spine, a soothing before the storm.

“Tell you what. Since you’re being so good for me now, we’ll just do five alright? No belt, just my hand.” That’s a small mercy. She hates when he uses the belt, and he knows it. She sighs, nodding her acceptance.

“Does that first one count?” He chuckles, hands squeezing her hips.

“I don’t think so, pretty. That one was a warning, these five are punishment. You think your little brain can handle counting them for me?” She huffs at that, he’s twisting an already deep knife in her gut, but she nods.

The first blow is quick and she yelps out “one!” For a while after, he just rubs his palms on her ass to the point that her legs start trembling in anticipation. He abruptly lands the second and third in the same spot and she shrieks out the count. She already knows that he’s aiming to leave a mark. The fourth and fifth come quick too and she’s been reduced to a mess in the aftermath. Tears are streaming down her face and her whole body shivers under his touch, but she can also feel the wetness smearing across the inside of her thighs. Steve leans over her, draping his warm chest across her back and she reaches a hand back to grab onto his thigh.

“Did so good for me, baby. My good girl, huh?” He presses a kiss into her temple before he hoists her up, keeping her back pressed to his chest as she’s all but slack in his arms. He helps her step out of her jeans and panties, turning her around in his arms and letting her clasp her hands around his neck. She’s mute in his hold, pressing her face into his neck as his hands slide down her thighs to hoist her legs around his hips. 

He pads into the bedroom, laying her down across his bed and slotting himself between her legs. She brings her hands to the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, sitting back and shucking it off over his head. She thinks that she’ll never get used to it, seeing him bare. There’s strange scars along his abdomen, she assumes from previous burns, but he’s still the prettiest thing she’s ever seen, all tan muscle and the sweetest little freckles. He motions for her to sit up, slipping her shirt off when she does before pressing them both back into the mattress in a harsh kiss. His tongue invades her mouth immediately, wrapping her senses in a hazy fog of him. He pulls away with a hot gasp.

“Need to be inside you, baby. Need your pussy so bad.” She just sighs out his name, watching him lean back to tug his cock out of his boxers before dropping the heavy tip against her folds. She whines when he draws the head of his cock through her cunt, her wetness smearing over the length of him.

“Tell me you want it, pretty. Tell me you want me.” He dips into her entrance and she gasps at the feeling.

“I want it, Steve, please– want you now.” He rolls his hips forward in one smooth thrust that sends her reeling, her hands clinging to his back as she cries out at being entirely full with him. He groans into her neck, quickly finding a steady rhythm as he fucks into her.

“Fuck– pussy’s made for me, baby– so perfect– just take it.” He brings one hand down to toy with her clit and it makes her hips buck up into his as she chokes on his name.

“Come for me, pretty– need it so bad– you better fucking come right now.” Her release sneaks up on her and then she’s falling hard, spasming around his dick and digging her nails into his back. He isn’t far behind her, fucking her through her high before he thrusts into her one final time and spills inside her with a shivery groan. They’re both panting, laying entangled in a hazy stillness as they come down. The ache is already coming back into focus, in her wrists and along the swell of her ass. She winces hard when he finally pulls out. 

He had certainly gotten her good and fucked out, but she’s all too quickly coming out of the haze, all the dark things he said resting heavy on her chest until it feels like she can’t breathe. She goes to get up, but he’s quick to stop her, bringing his hands to her shoulders to press her back.

“Woah, easy, baby. Just lemme take care of you.” She shakes off his hands, dipping under his hold to stand and shuffle into the bathroom. 

“‘I’m fine, Steve. Just– give me a minute.” She scrubs her hands down her face before turning in the mirror to take in the sight of her mottled ass. Sure enough, there’s a perfect, blotchy, red handprint across her one cheek, it even looks like he broke skin around the edges. There’s little bruises dotting her hips as well from where he had dug his fingers in, and she hisses as she runs her fingers over them. It’s then that she catches sight of her wrists in the mirror, rubbed red and raw from his belt. Normally, she enjoyed this kind of thing, evidence of a good session with Steve. But right now, the sight of her weary body coupled with his words still swirling in her head just makes her want to cry. 

“Baby?” She’s startled out of her thoughts by Steve’s hoarse voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a furrowed look across his face. She sighs, not quite able to meet his gaze as she brushes past him back into the bedroom. He’s following behind her mutely as she grabs her shirt, quickly pulling it back on before walking out into the living room to get her panties and jeans. She’s sliding her pants up her legs when he finally speaks again.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I think I should go, Steve.”

“What? What do you mean? Baby, I– you need someone to take care of you, lemme look at those bruises.” He goes to reach for her but she flinches, stepping back away from him. He stops dead in his tracks.

“All that shit that you said, did you mean it?” He gives her a confused look, but she presses on.

“Steve, your words really hurt me. All that talk about me being your stupid slut. I-It felt different, it felt like you meant it.” He swallows hard.

“I was just angry, baby. I didn’t mean that shit. You just– you caught me off guard with those– those fucking pamphlets– and then the pills. I overreacted, I–”

“I can’t keep doing this, Steve!” His face crumples in an instant at her words, and when he speaks, his voice is so small it makes her breath catch.

“Can’t keep doing what?” She huffs, throwing her arms out in frustration.

“This! All I wanna do is help you and all you wanna do is push me away. It’s-it’s absurd. Why you won’t stop being so fucking stubborn is beyond me. But then, you just get so nasty about it, so mean.” She lets out a bitter laugh, sitting down on the edge of the couch and holding her head in her hands.

“And the worst part is, I let you be that way to me. I keep trying to help you and you keep lashing out at me a-and I can’t take it anymore, Steve. I just can’t.” Her words seem to have left him speechless, he just stands there, his eyes searching her face. She huffs, standing and heading towards the front door. It’s silent as she shrugs on her coat and puts on her shoes, sliding her bag up her arm. When she goes to open the door, however, his large hand comes into view, pressing the door shut. She turns around to tell him off, but chokes on her words when she sees his face. His eyes are swimming in tears, his expression completely crumpled.

“Please don’t go, baby. I’m sorry– I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean any of that stuff I just– I got freaked out, ok?” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from crying anymore.

“You say that every time this happens, Steve. I can’t keep believing what’s obviously a lie.” And then, Steve does something she couldn’t have expected in a million years. He gets down on his knees in front of her.

“I swear it’s not a lie this time, I swear. I-I’ll go to a shrink like you want me to– I won’t take anymore of those pills, just– please don’t fucking leave me, baby. You-you’re so good a-and so smart and– I love you, I really fucking love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it, and she wishes more than anything that it had been under any other circumstance. For a moment, she wonders to herself how she got here, in only three months, completely entangled with this broken man. She’s startled out of her thoughts when he wraps his arms around her hips, burying his face into her stomach. 

“Please, baby. You know I need you.” She tentatively rests her hand in his hair, feeling the way he slackens against her at the contact. She draws her fingers through his hair firmly, tilting his head back to look at her. She lets out a long sigh.

“Listen to me, Steve Harrington. This is it. I swear to god if you’re lying, if anything like today happens again? I’m gonna leave and I’m never gonna come back.” His eyes go wide at her words and he’s quick to get on his feet, cupping her face in both his palms.

“I promise, it’s never gonna happen again. Gonna be better for you. Love you so much, baby.” She lets him press a damp kiss to her lips before pulling back. 

“Will you let me take care of you now, pretty?” She nods, having to admit that her skin is smarting under the rough material of her jeans. He gives her a sweet smile before taking her hand and leading her back into his bedroom.

…

She swears she could get whiplash from how quickly Steve can change, going so sweet on her the second he has her laid back out on his bed. He gently peels her jeans down her legs, having her turn over onto her stomach while he rubs aloe lotion into her welts, murmuring apologies as he works. He thumbs at her wrists before kissing each, letting her turn onto her side while he slides behind her, wrapping her up in his arms. She’s exhausted from everything and falls asleep easily, moored by the steady rise and fall of his solid chest pressed into her back. 

When she wakes up, it’s much later, the sun already setting on the city. Steve stirs behind her, grumbling into her neck.

“Can you stay tonight?” She hums her affirmation. She’s off RA duty until tomorrow and doesn’t have morning classes either, she can stay. Steve sighs. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks.

“How’s your head?” He groans.

“Hurts. I’ll take some advil.” Relief floods through her system that he really has seemed to drop the prescription debate. 

“You can probably take a higher dose than normal, just for a little while before it starts getting better.” He sighs again, a seeming acceptance of her words. She wills herself to believe that it will get better.

“You hungry, baby?” She hums another yes to his question, turning in his arms to look at him.

“Should probably get something in you before you take anything too.” 

They order takeout from her favorite spot, something Steve does every time he’s had to apologize to her. She’s had a lot of takeout in the last three months. She hopes this time really is different.  

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au

[katiifaetarot]

Before todays reading: Thank you to the anon who enjoyed my cat Blu's message for everyone. There was only one ASK message regarding that post, so i hope you see this! Im so happy it helped and resonated with you like that! Thank you for taking the time to write up that message! Means the absolute world to me!

ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ

ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ʚ♡ɞ

THE READING TODAY IS: Positive Morning Tea 🫖

☆this reading will include some positivity you need to hear !! Could apply to anything in your life and/or even yourself as a person!

☆the message will be short as i am filming content for tiktok and youtube today as well!

about me

Take a peek at the Links for more Messages, Guidance, Clarity, Confirmation, etc!

• i am posting on tiktok again! Cant wait to see y'all there too ;)

♡ Youtube ♡

• i am doing a youtube collab with @faerytreealtars !! Super excited! Stay Tuned and DONT FORGET to subscribe to BOTH our Channels so you can see our lovely messages once they've dropped!! 😊 ( march 1st, hehe )

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☆ Paid Personal Readings will be opening up in March; 15 slots will be available; March 1st -- March 10th, 2024.

•It will be Email Readings Only.

•I accept only Zelle

•ALL readings will be done in a 'first come, first served' basis. ALL readings will be done On or Before March 10th.

•OF COURSE i will let you know if you made it into one of the 15 slots, and dont worry if you miss out because i will be opening my slots again March 12th, so dont be afraid to try again!

•Will make a separate post on Paid Personal Readings + how you can PROVE to me that YOU did in fact pay me for the reading!!! and Pin it to my blog

☆ Free readings will be done on my Tiktok Lives! (go follow me over there!)

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There are 3 piles and you will be picking through the Angel Number Index Cards in the picture right below this text!!!

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✨️🧚🏽‍♀️please choose your pile and may your intuition and inner knowing guide you to the pile with the energy most suited for you and most suited to help you along your path at this current point in time, no matter what that looks like🧚🏽‍♀️✨️

PILE 1- 101 + 999

PILE 2- 333

PILE 3- 1221

** sometimes ( most of the time ) i will pick up on multiple energies that need attention or want to be expressed during the reading so i ASK YOU TO UNDERSTAND THIS DURING MY READINGS:

depending on how the reader(YOU) chooses to look at the situation or however the situation resonates for the reader(YOU) and because this is a general reading;

⚠️you HAVE to be able to use your better discernment + better judgement skills to fully absorb the message and be able to do the necessary work to keep you on track for the future you WANT for yourself⚠️

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OKAY PILE 1:

Your mind and tongue are sharp, your wit unbeatable, you talent....unimaginable to others.

You hold so much truth, clarity, and purpose within you. You must be secret about your moves sometimes though. People will want to ruin what you have. Make sure you are talking to the correct people.....so your plans arent FORCED to change by either you or an unseen outside force.

Regardless of that though, YOU are embarking on a new journey and for that i am proud of you pile 1 :') !! No matter who you are, what you are doing, or how you are living and being lately, the world is calling for change and you have some great innovative ideas waiting to be shared! Dont be afraid of the change or shift either! Embrace it !!

You are cool pile 1.....thanks for letting me channel for ya' ♡

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OKAY PILE 2:

KEEP MOVING FORWARD IN OPTIMISM, POSITIVITY, AND LIGHT ENERGY.

No negativity allowed here pile 2!!! Dont be fearful, doubtful, or scared of the future you VERY clearly deserve to have for yourself. Make sure your attitude matches the vibe you want to be in and give off !! I.E- MAKE SURE YOU ARE POSITIVELY THINKING AND THAT POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT IS SOMEHOW OCCURRING IN YOUR LIFE!

You are such a sunshine baby pile 2, and i am sorry if people or the world at large has made you feel dull. Because you are SO not dull, you are literally a perfect baby angel who needs to stand in their power, authenticity, and truth. KEEP building positivity around you and KEEP going towards your dreams and goals! Do NOT give up, because you can achieve EVERYTHING you want! Trust ♡

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OKAY PILE 3:

Things around you might be falling away fast OR happening at a speed that causes discomfort for you pile 3. And that is okay and ACTUALLY apart of your plot line right now! HAHA

You are actually doing so well and taking things in stride like you should be doing. You are releasing so much negativity, so much hurt + pain, and so much angsty BS that no longer should reside within you.

Good F---ing job pile 3 !! Right now, you should be planning, planning, annnnd more planning!! Ask yourself deep, tough, LIFE questions! Examples: How can i create the future i want? Am i being too ambitious and keeping in mind the resources i currently have for my ambitions? How can i cultivate better understanding with me and my future? How can i practice self discipline and balance that out with my current reality?

There are so many more examples i could give, but i uuuhh,,,, guess this where you start to do the necessary research to help YOURSELF! ;)

You got this pile 3, i believe in you!! the answers will come!! DW♡

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I sincerely hope you received what you needed and released what you don't !! See you again soon!! Take it easyyy and just breathe and fllooowwww!!! you got this! byyeee~🧚🏽‍♀️✨️

**please let me know how I'm doing in any way you can! that is the easiest way to support me! Dont Forget to follow me on Youtube and Tiktok for more messages, guidance, and advice! 🥺 🥹 🙏🏼

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⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

**I AM NOT A MEDICAL OR HEALTH PROFESSIONAL; PLEASE USE YOUR OWN JUDGEMENT AND DISCERNMENT TO DETERMINE IF YOU NEED OR WANT TO SEEK PROPER HELP OR TREATMENTS FOR YOURSELF OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR OR SOCIAL MEDIA!!

***AND REMEMBER: your own free will is always present within you; which has nothing to do with me or ANYBODY else. I am NOT responsible for YOUR choices after YOU consume my content on ANY of my platforms.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

#tarot blog #tarotcommunity #tarotonline #tarot reading #tarot journal #witch aesthetic #pick a card #pick a pile #spirituality #pac #angel numbers #positive thoughts #spiritualgrowth

[eventheodds]

"You don't have to." He assures immediately, which in hindsight makes him wince slightly because it sounds like he's going to ask for something enormous or terrible. Ask for something that wouldn't or shouldn't be given, and--

Well, maybe it is that way for some. He wouldn't think to push or force, to insist at all. It's curiosity more than anything, delighting in the things he's heard, things he's been told. Sometimes it helps. And sometimes passing stories along has helped others.

"But, um. Do you have a favorite memory from childhood? Or just a nice one. Something good that you think about sometimes?"

[You get candy that tastes like green! Yes. Just green. The flavor green.]

"Okay, well now I'm curious. What do you—"

She feels guilty for interrupting him, and it's not something she did on purpose, though she knows she should have waited for him to finish. The question, however, is not something she'd thought he'd ask. Out of everything he could have inquired about—anything at all—a memory from her childhood was not on the bingo card.

"Oh, uhh, well..."

She laughs nervously, trying to remember a memory from childhood. That twinge of guilt persists and she reaches out to grasp the sleeve of his red jacket as a silent apology. Meryl doesn't let go after a few moments before she remembers she has a question that needs answering.

Another feeling takes hold as she immediately thinks about her parents. Childhood would be synonymous to the parents, though when she thinks about them there's no particular memory that stands out. Not centred around them, at least.

"Guess that would be when I got my first camera," she says, deciding that this was the memory she was willing to share. "Maybe it was a relative or a family friend that gave it to me, but my parents weren't all that pleased about it. I think they had aspirations for their daughter landing a desk job in accounting or something along those lines."

She remembers the arguments and the curt conversations that followed. She'd been fortunate to attend university, but it was also the distance between herself and her family that helped that relationship.

"I didn't see her often, though she'd come on important days like birthdays, funerals and weddings. I think she was my mom's sister or best friend—but she was the one who gave me my first camera. You know those disposable ones where you have to wind back the dial after you take a picture?" She can hear the cranking noise as muscle memory makes her right thumb twitch like she's actually winding back the film.

She doesn't, however, tell him how she hadn't developed that film until she was in school. She'd not been able to purchase more film or any paper. She'd not been able to use a dark room until she enrolled, and even then developing that film would have to have been done on her own time. Meryl had been afraid that with the amount of time passed she'd lose those photographs.

"They weren't great photos—most of them blurry and way out of focus; I tried to keep them, but I think they got lost in the shuffle after I moved to my apartment."

She raises her arms, bent at the elbow, and forms an invisible camera with both index and thumb on either hand, looking at Vash. One eye is closed, in a wink, and she smiles widely as her right index finger pushes down on that invisible button.

"Click!"

She'll take the green candy. Enjoy it, too. Maybe she'll be surprised and the green flavour will turn out to be green apple.

#goldendivinewrath #verse: where the streets have no name.

[literarymagicfloatingonclouds]

Using Index cards to plan a novel

So I have not tried this method before, but since I have started to use it I feel like this is a really interesting and fun way to go about planning a novel.

I have been writing for around a decade now, and I have tried so may different ways of writing. I tried writing with outlines. I have tried to just write and see where it leads me, and I have tried hybrids of both. Overall they all seem to fall a bit flat. I think that this is partly because of who I am as a writer. I like to plan things out in my novels but I struggle with sticking to the plan if it is too specific. I like to be able to have some creative wriggle room.

That being said, I have found it extremely difficult to produce work that I am proud of by just blurting plot ideas on to the page. This is where the note cards come in.

I was recently introduced to this method of thinking called the Antinet Zettlekasten. Essentially what it boils down to is using index cards to store information for further development. The great thing about this is that it comes with an index and a numbering system which allows you to flick through your cards and rediscover nuggets of information as you go along.

The reason this is helpful in a novel is that there are so many things that a person can do with the note cards. I think that I would like to create a section just dedicated to my characters, a section for each novel and possibly even a section for random plot ideas as I move along in my story. This can be plot related to the novel I am currently working on or an idea for an entirely new project.

What I have been doing as a starting point is working to get my scenes planned out through what I will call my 'chapter cards'. These chapter cards allow me to break down the novel into little bits and pieces where I can see what I want to happen in each scene. This will allow me to go back and reference names of places I have used, or how the story started when I am 50k words in and don't have time to scroll all the way back to the beginning and looking to see if it is the same. Because if it is all written out on note cards I can make an index that shows me where eye color is mentioned or what day/time it is. This will help me keep track of things and staying organized throughout the process.

The other great part is that these can be laid out and the ideas can change and move and interact with each other. This might be a great way to make sure you have weaved in all the information you want to and that you are foreshadowing the rising action well enough to keep readers attention til the very end.

I will likely have more to say about this, but feel free to reach out if you have any questions! So for now to be continued...

#index cards #fun pens #creating something new #Bertha the shoebox #thesis work #fiction writing #novel writing

[purplebirdsees]

Warm-up: Whatever - Part 2

part 1 / part 3

Mom was usually the one to do the groceries, mostly because she was always at home, while I’d be tagging along to help her carry the bags because I was the eldest who was also always at home. She told me once in a run that dad was the one who would always accompany her, that he’d be just like me, quiet, yet attentive to her every word. Back then I was a baby, and mom was still in her old job as a secretary of a government agency, the one she keeps on cursing on and on for firing her for having ‘conflicting schedules’ because she was constantly pregnant. I can’t help but notice her eyes be filled with a passion, that it would look significantly bigger and brighter as she’d recall the people she talked to, the people she helped, and the people she befriended. As she’d look back at her grocery list, however, she’d squint with a dull look, as if thinking about it too much would hurt. 4

As fun as my mother’s grocery run stories were, sometimes, it just feels nice to be able to focus solely on the ‘grocery’ part.

Dad handed me the shopping basket and the list of supplies, then placed his hand on my shoulder. My shoulders involuntary tensed up, as he flicked the back earlobe with his thumb. He does this all the time, said that it’s a habit at this point because back when I was a baby, I was a really messy eater and would get milk all over my head, which included the back of my ears. He said whenever he’d clean that spot, I’d always laugh. Up until now he’d always do it, and sure, if I was still three years old and was in a bad temper, maybe I’d let out a little giggle. At that time, it kinda just made me want to cringe, not just because of the story, but because my ears are sensitive. I don’t want to tell him that, though; besides, he’d just laugh at me, saying something along the lines of ‘it’s never failed me once, so why should I bother?’

My first stop was the pen isle. The multitude of colored pens and markers were hard to not look at, and although I knew exactly what to buy, which were the cheap, black ones that were always sold 15 pieces a box, it wouldn’t hurt to try out a few others, right?

The first thing that I grabbed was the pens that everyone in my class seems to have.5 I’ve tried it before in school; a classmate told me to write their notes because they broke their index and middle finger, and insisted I use their pen. It had a needle-like nib, which was extremely prone to bending. It wasn’t really useless if it did bend, but it was annoying to change your wrist’s position just to be able to write anything. That was one of the reason why mom didn’t want me to buy one, not to mention the price of one was enough to buy each for all my brothers the one, cheap pen brand that she preferred.

I wrote my name on the test writing paper. The pen glided on the paper smoothly, just like how I remembered it. They were unlike the bulky, cheap pens that always felt a little too slippery when I wrote, and most of the time I write fast, which would result to sloppy handrwiting. This made my handwriting feel like I was mature, without the wobbliness the cheap pens did. I could also write smaller because of the nib, which would help a lot in saving up notebook space. Overall, this pen made my usual handwriting look good, impressive even in my eyes. I want one, I really want it, but… 6

‘Not today Tsuzuru, okay?’ I could almost feel her hand wrap around mine that was clutching the pen. ‘One day, I promise. One day.’

I placed back the pen on the rack. I took a deep breath, then released it, hoping that the heavy feeling in my chest would let go of me. Today wasn’t that day, unfortunately... unsurprisingly...

At the corner of my eye, I was a figure enter the isle. I placed back the pen then moved to the other side, which had a whole section of the ones I was supposed to be buying; unsurprisingly, they were on sale too. Well, there goes the fun, I thought, as I tried to casually pick up the black cardboard box and inspected if it had dents, pretending I was here all this time. I bet that guy was going to buy that pen, like everyone else is. Everyone else… but me.

Each second I spent looking for dents, the more the weight of my feelings in my chest slowly felt lighter... This one looks fine enough. Four more boxes and I can go find—

Pffft.

I stopped, mid-way returning a box that had a dent in one of the corners, then turned my head around to where the noise was. I think, and I’m pretty sure it came from the person who just arrived, which surprisingly was a kid, probably younger than me based from their height. Was he… I checked the back of my shirt and pants if there was a weird looking stain or had something stuck to it. It was clean, as much as I looked. Maybe it was something their companion, or guardian by the looks of it, said? I shook it off, placing back the box.

… Somehow, though, it didn’t feel like that was the case. I blinked hard, as my heartbeat slowly rose from a steady rhythm to an abnormal pace. What was I doing again? I looked at my had. Box, right. Uhm… dents. Dents. Dents… it looks okay, I think. I grabbed one and oh god, why did that have to fall—grab, quick. Look for dents… okay… none… I think…?

Pshhhhh, hahahaha.

One, two, three… six. Okay, okay. I bent my head down as I headed out the isle. I could feel the kid’s eyes on me, and I didn’t want to look because I knew what kind of face he was making. That is, if he was looking at me, and… just don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t—

Hmpfffffffhfhfhfhfh…!

Out of pure reflex, my neck involuntarily turned my head to the side, my eyes going straight to where the kid’s face was. Which was, in fact his eyes that were staring straight into mine. The tips of his mouth looked like they were touching his ears, and inside was a full display shiny, silver braces. For one mere second I felt my heartbeat at my ears as a very sharp jab of pain jolted my chest. Look away, I thought, but at that second I couldn’t, not with his eyes glaring right at me, as if his gaze held enough power with whatever emotion was in his wide eyes that they were almost telekinetic.

A soft ding came from the store’s speakers, like a snap of a finger finally breaking me free from hypnosis. I turned my head, let out a cough, and ran as quickly as I can out of that isle—that, that kid—and ran as quickly to the folders section.

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4 [tsz] irrelevant info; if possible remove/revise maybe focus more on the grocery part and less on anything else

5 fuck I remember those pens tsuzuru I have a few spare u can have some if u want bud dw they give us those pens for free trust

6 [tsz] 50/50 abt this desc its not good but not bad

part 1 part 3

#a3! #dandelion fluff #fanfic #Dandelion Fluff #ao3 #finally holy #this sat in my drafts for a while my editor fren likes to take her time istg #breastpocket cookies #a3! tsuzuru #part 2 of 3 #tsuzuru minagi

[heartual]

aaaaaa

#🍄.txt #just finished getting through the presentation but i forgot she records her zoom meetings and posts them on canvas 😭 #me stuttering and stumbling over my words forever immortalized #no because i even used index cards this time to help me move along a little AND THEN I DIDNT PICK THEM UP #i think i blacked out because i have no idea wtf i said #screen share issues and whatever it was that came out of my mouth aside my professor said we did well though 🥴 #im free!!!!!! worst experience of my life #god and this was online. i literally cannot function as a normal human being i have a headache

[seraphdreams]

❦ 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟖 — 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄.

synopsis - what’s a dog without a little home-training? a mutt. who knew baji was just the right owner for you…

contains - fem!reader, degradation, use of the word “bitch”, slapping/spanking, choking, dacryphilia/crying, manhandling, overstimulation, and brat taming. 18+ mdni.

word count - 1k

puptober masterlist

“what the fuck did i tell you ‘bout that?”

baji’s tone is nothing less of irked as he steps into your shared apartment, slipping his shoes off by the front door and dropping his keys onto the counter beside him when he finishes. the whole day was hell and you were substantially to blame, giving him attitude where you saw fit and pissing him off even further. you can’t help that he’s so attractive when he’s mad.

“tell me about what, kei?” you try to sound as virtuous as possible, looking at him with wide, doe-like eyes and holding your hands behind your back. he shoots an apathetic look at your display, narrowing his eyes and altogether ignoring you as he walks past. “don’t play stupid with me.” his voice is deep and cold, no vestiges of emotion whatsoever as he treads to the bedroom, beginning to do away with his jacket, leaving him in a tee and black sweatpants.

like the puppy you are, you follow behind him, taking in the sight of his toned arms flexing continuously while he throws his discarded garment into a hamper. you stand in the doorway, leaning your head on the frame with a sour pout on your face. “you’re the stupid one.”

his eye twitches at your utterance and he swears that this time he’s gonna ignore you for good, for your sake because if he says something, it’s not gonna be the best choice of words. his dark, gold eyes scan your frame, he’s gotta admit, you always looked so pretty when wracking up his nerves. he huffs out a dismissive sigh.

“lose the attitude, bitch. i’m tired of dealing with your shit, you either drop that tone or get from ‘round me.” you would think that his remark would be enough to shut you up but not with your slick mouth, you decide you have another card to play, one that’ll get him going for sure. “lose the attitude? how ‘bout you make me?”

at this, he was surprisingly calm, or at least you thought he was, giving an air of nonchalance as he comes up to you, a strong grip on your wrist as he pushes you down onto the plush bedsheets. you try to wriggle from his hold, but your advances were momentarily shot down when you feel his fingers hook into the waistband of your bottoms and pull them down along with your underwear. “‘make me’, huh?” he whispers, his fingers thumbing your folds and spreading your arousal up and down from your cunt to your clit.

“k-kei..” you mutter out and before you know it, his digits are deep in your cunt, index and middle fingers vigorously curling up at your sweet spot. you expeditiously tangle your hands into the sheets, your legs growing weak and breath becoming increasingly heavy at his harsh movements. “don’t act all cute now, thought you wanted to be a brat—a mutt?” he chuckles sinisterly when you don’t respond, instead whimpering at the intrusion of his skilled fingers inside you. it’s all too much for your mind, everything in your eyes growing hazy as you feel yourself momentarily reach your climax.

“c’mon mutt, since you had so much t’say, come out ‘nd say it.” he hovers over you completely, his onyx, long hair draped over his devilish features; eyes reddened with anger and fangs bared to its fullest, he was truly scary but not scary enough to stop you from running your slick mouth, your body too focused on cumming that you don’t even realize the immediate second he places his thumb on your clit, both hands working in tandem to push you further to your release.

“hm?” he questions, tilting his head when he doesn’t get a proper response. his hand moves from your clit to your neck, the thick digits curling around your throat and squeezing gently. he keeps the pace of his fingers in your cunt. “when i ask a question, i expect an answer. you got that, bitch?” he adds onto the pressure on your neck before moving his fingers back to your clit.

your back arches off the bed, hands flying up to cover your face as you tremble under him, teetering off the edge. “i got it! j-just stop that!”

there’s a devious look on his face as he observes the way your cunt clenches around his fingers, signaling your near orgasm. the circles on your clit become harsher, faster and your legs threaten to close around him. “hnnn, ‘m so close, kei! so close!” you cry out, now grinding your hips down. “you think you deserve to cum?” baji’s question pulls tears from your eyes, and you can feel your body surge in frustration. there was only one thing to do when he acts like this, the thing you dreaded most.

“yes, i deserve to cum! please let me cum, kei! please!”

begging helped your case but in the slightest as he uses the back of his hand to wipe your tears. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry. think you can cry some more?” you nod absentmindedly, your head clouded with your impending release. “good little mutt.” he says, just before slapping your cheek, a tinge of sharp friction being felt on your face which, in turn, causes more tears to flow. he speeds up his fingers until they reach a brute pace, one that has you convulsing over the digits, coating them in the sheen of your cunt before he pulls away.

he watches the way your core throbs and cunt flutter around nothing, an amused expression painted on his features. you breathe steadily, trying to recollect your body from the intense orgasm that rippled through you. a deep grumble pulls you from your not so tranquil state. “have you learned your lesson?” keisuke asks, his countenance returning back its blasé manner. you nod your head once more, afraid that one wrong word will start him up again.

he places a firm slap to your sensitive cunt with his signature fang-baring smirk spread over his lips. “good puppy.”

tags - @sjoyy @luvrtaro @mikasa019 @sklycan @meena-in-a-nutshell @kennyackermanswhore @getougeko @imkumichan

– all rights reserved © seraphdreams 2021. do not repost, change, copy, republish, read, translate, or recommend my work on tumblr or any other platforms without prior permission. feedback is widely appreciated!

#🍰.puptober! #baji smut #baji keisuke smut #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader smut #baji x you #baji x y/n #baji keisuke x y/n #baji keisuke x you #baji tokyo revengers #baji tokrev #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #baji imagines #baji headcanons #tr smut #tr x reader #tr x y/n #tr x you

[piecksz]

dirty little secret | (m)

pairings: jock!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, dub con, cheating, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, saliva, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sneaky sex, explicit language

words: 3.2k+

summary: eren’s unsatisfied in his relationship with his girlfriend, so he looks to you for sexual gratification.

a/n: all the characters in this story are adults! it was originally meant to be a college au but the whole “fire drill” detail doesn’t really make sense in a college setting since fire drills are typically held in dorms, so as per usual 18+ minors dni. 

Your legs moved quickly against the polished tile of the hallway while you sped up to meet with your class who had already been far ahead of you, disappearing into the throng of people filing outside at the blaring signal of the fire alarm.

You’d excused yourself during your lesson to use the bathroom, unaware that an unplanned drill had been scheduled for that day, so with haste you finished up and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of your classmates before you were left inside the building.

As you rounded the corner, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your forearm, forcibly pulling you behind the small door that stood at the end of the corridor.

Instinctively, your hands balled into fists, and you threw them blindly in the direction of your assailant. You hoped that you’d at least land one successful hit, and it would give you enough time to break out of their hold and flee.

“Y/N, relax! It’s just me!”

Your hysterical flailing ceased, and you opened your eyes hesitantly at the sound of your attacker’s familiar voice. “Eren?”

Frantic pupils fell upon a pair of mischievous jade eyes, and your terror-stricken expression contorted into an angry scowl as you drove the palms of your hands into his chest, sending him careening back into the metal shelf behind him. “You asshole! What is wrong with you?”

Eren’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch himself and the rack before both were sent tumbling to the floor. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing away the soreness spreading over the skin of his arm from your knuckles’ potent impact. “You’ve got a brutal left hook.”

“Yeah? You wanna see my right one?” Your right hand tightened as if you were projecting another throw, but Eren’s outstretched arm maintained a safe amount of space between you two. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Eren’s tightly-wound eyebrows began to arch as his distressed face eased into a buoyant grin. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

You blinked. “Were you the one that pulled the fire alarm?”

“No, I didn’t pull the fucking fire alarm,” he replied sourly, evidently offended that you’d suggest he’d do something so juvenile. “I just got lucky.”

Your curled lip relaxed, and your irritation waned into a resigned stare. You desperately wanted to trust Eren’s saccharine words, and it didn’t take much effort to believe him while you were faced with his stupidly winsome expression. His smile was warm, eyes glossing over with adoration like he was truly expressing what he felt, and it wasn’t just empty flattery, yet you’d been more perceptive than to just take his intentions for what they were. Rather, you’d been smart enough to learn from last time.

He’d said something along the same lines, after you two had hooked up in his car after his lacrosse game. He was feeling mirthful after winning and wanted to celebrate with you, but on the cusp of his orgasm, he’d let the “love” phrase slip, and when you’d asked him about it afterward, Eren mulled over it for a second before nodding, admitting that he had feelings for you.

His confession had been somewhat of a relief, and you’d expected him to end things with his girlfriend shortly after he’d realized what he really wanted, but the following day in the courtyard, you were stunned to see Eren sitting with her and the rest of his friends, showering her with kisses like nothing had taken place the night before.

You swore you’d learned your lesson.

“Are these new? Can I see them?” Eren’s fingers gently wrapped around the frame of your glasses, pulling them from your face, and he slid them onto his ears, adjusting their position on his nose. “How do I look?”

“I can’t see, Eren,” you answered simply.

Eren laughed bashfully. “Right, I think they look better on you instead.” He slid your glasses off and tucked them back behind your ears.

Your lenses restored your lucid vision, and now that you could properly see, you noticed the way Eren’s lips were parted, lids low and languid as his face lingered only inches from yours. He’d used your glasses as leverage to get closer to you, a crafty technique, and now that he was close enough, he could whisper.

“You know what else looks better on you?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into his cheek, and he closed the space between you two, fixing his lips onto yours while his thumb and index finger supported the curve of your chin. His kiss was slow, mouth undulating with the most tender of movements, and when he carefully slid his tongue between your teeth you could taste the vague chill of spearmint on his breath. He proceeded timidly, as though he was touching you for the first time, but that was the very detail of your couplings that always had you running back. He handled you like he cared.  

The tip of Eren’s nose skimmed against yours, ever so slightly, while he continued prompting his tongue further into the depths of your mouth, eager to have you savor his desire.

Your body was traitorous and unmoving, allowing Eren to command you with his lips, and for a few blissful minutes, you forgot the two of you were crammed into the unyielding space of a storage room.

Eren withdrew from your mouth, and tilted his head to the side so he could occupy the empty curve of your neck, and once you felt him press mild kisses to the hollow of your throat, you freed a displeased sigh and sent him backwards with an assertive push.

“Seriously? In the supply closet?”

“We’ve got like fifteen minutes before everyone comes back.” He reassured you, shrugging dismissively before tipping his head in for another kiss.

You shifted backward, studying Eren as he continued to lean in until his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wondering why he wasn’t receiving any contact, his eyes flitted open.

“You still haven’t broken up with her have you?” You pressed your lips into an unamused line.

Your question had Eren angling until he was standing upright, and then he rolled his head back and released a groan as though already tired from your question. “Y/N, come on. I don’t feel like having this conversation.”

“Have you?” you probed.

“No, I haven’t. It’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

Eren drew his eyebrows up, now in regret. “We’ve been together since freshman year. Do you know how big of a douchebag it makes me look if I break up with her two months before graduation?”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Do you know how big of a douchebag you look fucking me behind her back?”

Eren’s eyes drifted to the side.

“Or are you just embarrassed to be seen with me?” you questioned, canting your body into his view.

“Okay, you sound ridiculous,” Eren laughed dryly.

“Because I’m not a cheerleader or an athlete, and I have about one other friend. You don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking the girl that spends lunch in the library.”

“What kind of cliche movie do you think we’re in right now?”

“It’s just something I’d expect from someone who peaked in high school.” Your words were sharp on the tip of your tongue, and you could tell by the way Eren recoiled that your statement managed to penetrate his seemingly careless guise.

“I’ll handle it okay?” Eren’s hand slid over the back of his neck, looking blameworthy of all the faults you’d accused him of. “But right now I really need help handling something else.”

Your eyes narrowed in his direction after realizing he’d managed to do it again, forcing you into forgiveness with his charming abashed impression. He’d taken advantage of how spineless you were when it came to matters concerning him.

“Please?” he urged.

It was his thick brown brows that were creased in the middle and opalescent green eyes that stared you down that made him look so sincere. He was easily one of the most spellbinding people you’d ever met, attractive and likable, he knew exactly what cards to play to get his way, and even though you were aware of it, you always found yourself wrapped around his finger. A pretty face and a sweet tongue was a recipe written up by the devil himself.

You lowered yourself onto your knees, leveled with Eren’s hands working swiftly against the buttons of his slacks. “I’m done doing this, Yeager,” you announced wryly.

“I know,” Eren said, as though guaranteeing you it would be the last time.

He pushed his pants down along with his briefs in one swift motion, freeing his cock from the tight cotton confines of his underwear. His length was already rigid, the sticky beads of precum leaking out of his swollen head the result of your stalling. He’d already provoked himself by thinking of all the ways he wanted to have you, you didn’t have to do anything more to get him hard.

A relieved exhale left Eren’s lips once he grabbed the base of his cock in the sweaty heat of his palm, tapping his wet tip against your bottom lip, then he pulled the hem of his shirt up slightly, allowing you enough clearance to take him into your mouth.

You wrapped a ginger hand around his length, feeling the way his warmth throbbed in your fingers, and you leaned in, using your tongue to lap along the rim of his cock.

“Fuck—” Eren’s voice was husky as it ripped through the depths of his throat. He watched you with heavy lids, observing the way your tongue’s tip danced around his swollen head, giving coy licks to his slit, and the way his cock twitched with need at the slightest provocation. “Jesus Christ—”

You gave him a few generous pumps before taking him whole, humming at the way his girth felt against the inside of your cheeks. The skin of his length ran like hot silk over your tongue as you fell into a natural rhythm, and your lips and hand rocked back and forth against him.

Eren’s face broke out into a dirty grin. “You’re such a little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

You glared up at him over the edge of your glasses.

“Sorry,” he responded meekly, fingers brushing away the strands of hair that fell loosely against his forehead.

You continued working against him, excited by the honeyed melody of his moans every time your fingertips ran over the sensitive skin of his balls. Eren’s cock pulsated against the surface of your tongue with each small ministration, and you watched the muscles across his abdomen tense.

“I know you hate me,” he started. “But you have no idea how hot you look on your knees right now. Keep glaring at me like that, and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

The mention of Eren’s warning had a torrent of heat surging between your legs, and you fought off the urge to dip your fingers beneath your skirt and begin rubbing away your discomfort. You didn’t want him to know you were enjoying this almost as much as he was.

Your heavy yet stifled breathing caused your glasses to fog lightly, so you sat back on your knees, withdrawing your mouth from him briefly to catch your breath. You lifted a thumb to wipe away at the saliva that dribbled down your chin, but Eren’s fast fingers stopped you, holding your wrist away from your face.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “You look pretty like that.”

You ran the back of your hand across your cheeks, as though you were trying to rub off the furious heat that crept across your skin and over your nose. “Shut up.”

Eren only responded with an amused smile.

Then when you brought him back to your lips for the last time, his hands settled on the crown of your head, and he pushed his cock back in until his tip relentlessly prodded the back of your throat. Holding your head in place, he began jerking his hips, fucking your mouth at an agonizingly slow pace that had heavy tears cascading down your cheeks.

Every time his cock slowly and deliberately pressed against the back of your throat, you gagged involuntarily, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs.

“Feel how hard I am?” Eren asked. “You did that.” He rocked his pelvis forward again, muffling your whines.

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your pretty little face, don’t you?” He thrusted himself between your jaws, throwing his head back and liberating a series of foul swears. “I really need to feel you.”

With the declaration of his wish, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, inhaling sharply at the obscene sight of his length coated and dripping with your spit.

After your dry heaving subsided, Eren helped you up with a gentle hand, running his palm between your shoulder blades to soothe your coughing. He made sure you were steady before cuing you to turn so that your back was facing him, then he watched as your shaky hands slid underneath your skirt and fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear.

“Pull out this time, Eren. I mean it,” you rasped, cautioning him ahead of time. You stepped out of your underwear and used the toe of your shoe to cast it aside.

Eren’s hands reached under your hem, large palms gliding over the curve of your ass. “The odds of you getting pregnant are like one in what?” He flipped up your skirt and continued teasing the skin of your backside. “Plus I always cover you for the pill, don’t I?”

“I don’t care, cum in me and you’re dead.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the metal shelf, and you slid your arm around Eren’s shoulder while he placed one hand on your waist for support and curved the other under your thigh. Then, he brought your knee up to his chest until all of your weight was allocated onto one leg.

Eren held his cock with his fingertips and slid himself between your folds from behind. You let out a soft, unanticipated whimper, but quickly brought your teeth down on the flesh of your tongue to smother any more sounds of pleasure. You didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder at Eren’s satisfied smirk, you could tell by the way his hand squeezed your thigh that he had noticed it.

Eren positioned himself at your entrance, skimming his wet tip over your hole before sliding himself inside you. His cock slipped in with ease, your saliva acting as a crude lubricant.

“Oh fuck—” His breath was hot over the span of your neck.

“Eren—” you sighed, forgetting all your pretenses. You closed your eyes, enjoying the way he stretched you out, and then he started moving causing a pattern of shallow cries and moans to fall from your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy,” Eren groaned, thrusting up into you, slowly and rhyhmically, steadily filling you to the hilt every time, while his hand traveled beneath your ribcage to cup your breast over the crisp fabric of your uniform. “She doesn’t take me as well as you do.”

You shook your head, making weak sounds of protest between delicate whines. “I don’t wanna hear that, Eren—”

“But it’s true.” Eren moved quickly between your legs, hissing every time your slick walls tightened around his aching cock. With each punctuated thrust, you continued to lose yourself, until your need unfurled and Eren had you under siege. His methodical pace sent you into a flurry of moans, and you cried his name over and over.

His even strokes began to stagger, and his breathing became rapid and shallow, chaotic pants of hot air rolling out over the span of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum—” He continued pounding into you, faster now, harder, keen on drawing out his orgasm, and then Eren gave one last thrust, so deep it had you shutting your eyes and pursing your lips to keep from screaming. Then he shuddered, his body convulsing with the bout of his orgasm, and you felt him release inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy with every twitch of his cock.

“Y/N—” he moaned, resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder while he continued to jettison every drop of his release until he was sure he was empty.

Your hands tightened around his shoulder, as the ripple from Eren’s climax had your cunt tightening around his length, and ecstasy spread over the span of your pelvis and down your thighs. Once he grew limp, he slipped himself out of you, and you felt a slow stream of his cum run down the inside of your thigh.

“I said not to cum in me you fucking idiot.” Your legs were sweaty, making it easier for you to twist yourself out of Eren’s hold until you were now standing upright, both legs planted unsteadily on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Eren wrapped his arms around you apologetically, but you shrugged him off, using your elbow to drive him back.

Your eyes scanned the closet with haste, looking for tissue paper you could steal to clean up the mess between your thighs, and Eren must have sensed your aim because he made use of his height, seizing a large roll from the top shelf and unwrapping it before handing it to you.

You grabbed it out of his hands, waiving a statement of gratitude, and ripped away a few plies, crumpling them up into a generous wad. “You owe me eighty dollars.”

Eren’s eyebrows lifted and his face twisted into an incredulous expression while he stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned them up. “Are you running a prostitution ring?”

“I’m serious. Fifty for the pill and thirty just for dealing with you.” You straightened out your uniform, and watched as Eren did the same, tugging on his collar to smooth out the creases.

“You’re a mean little bitch,” he jeered with a slight playful undertone, and then he looked off to the side in concentration. He turned around, pressing his ear to the door of the supply closet, and then he looked back at you. “I think they’re coming back.”

You hummed.

“I’ll walk out first.”

“Right,” you said unenthusiastically, recalling that no matter how many praises he lavished you with in private, in public you were still his dirty little secret. He vowed to you that he would end his current relationship because it was clear you were growing tired of being his toy, good enough for him to fuck but undeserving of anything else. And after all was said and done, when you two passed each other in the halls, he’d still glance at you with the cordiality of a stranger.

Eren had promised to handle it, yet it was obvious he had no intentions to, and you knew that while you watched him give you a fond smile before slipping out of the supply closet.

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x reader smut #aot au #eren au #attack on titan au

[eremiie]

hbd cornelius springer <3

❥ nsfw | 3.2k words | connie x fem!reader

❥ content - blowjob

❥ the birthday boy deserves some birthday head!!!

happy birthday connie springer, and happy belated birthday @arlerted ily both a whole lot <3... i started this at like 4am so pls bare with this

"you enjoying your birthday?"

connie turns around at the sound of your voice, soda can in hand while he closes the fridge door.

the way his face lights up when he connects your voice to your face makes you beam. his eyes get wide, eyebrows rise up, and a crooked smile graces his features as you walk forth, your hand trailing against the kitchen counter.

it makes you smile, the ways he's immediately stoked to see you. it's endearing if anything and your heart flutters at the excitement that twinkles in his eyes at your appearance.

"duh... yeah of course i like it."

"duh... yeah of course i like it."

"duh... yeah of course i like it."

his stupid smile shifts into a small smirk and he picks up his drink to take another sip. "what're you lookin' at?"

seriously? were you that obvious?

he leans back against the corner of the kitchen counter, twirling the soda can in his hand to shake his drink up while steadying himself with his elbows. you can tell the question was one he was genuinely waiting on an answer for— it was to just rile you up and one for him to shrug off with a 'just messin'.

you roll your eyes. there was no reason to give him an ego. "your ugly party hat." your tone is snarky, and a breathy laugh leaves connie's throat as he shakes his head at you. he beckons with two slender fingers.

"come 'ere."

your stomach turns at the gesture— no at the sentence and you curse the slight stubbornness that keeps you standing where you stood with your arms crossed. "what?"

connie holds your gaze easily, and instead of giving you an answer his hand reaches out to pull you towards him by your forearm.

you stumble forward until you were situated between his feet, a strong hand encasing your wrists and his breath fanning across your face from the proximity of you and connie.

his eyes look more hazel up close, green and yellow dancing like a fiery bright fire. you can feel the denim of his jeans rub against the fat flesh of your thighs from where you stand, and connie makes no effort to move back.

it's a clear invasion of your space but neither you or him seem to mind— and you hope connie didn't take the way your heart jumps in your chest and your suddenly uneven breathing as a sign that you did mind. no, it was the exact opposite of that if anything.

"are you enjoying the party?" his voice comes out a little too smooth for your liking. where was the slight cracks in his voice as he spoke or the lilts in his tone as he tried his best to be a flirt?

the way he looks at you doesn't help. his eyes are low lying, having trouble staying focused on only just yours. you notice them flit a little lower every now and then before popping back up to match your gaze.

you hoped you came off as unbothered— stable and unfazed by his sudden demeanor. if it wasn't obvious by now your slight attraction to connie was something that you couldn't seem to let go of ever since you had first met him.

you hated how goofy he was and how the lame jokes he'd crack would always make you laugh regardless of how stupid. you hated how  somehow he'd always coerce you to do the handy work when it came to class projects because he was too lazy to get up off his own ass and help you. you hated how even through all these little silly quirks of his if he really wanted to with a few slip ups here and there he could make the hairs on your arms stand and have you stop breathing just from a slick look and slick sentence.

you hated all these things because they all made you feel gushy inside no matter how dumb it was. they made your body warm and gave you this comforting feeling that you couldn't get from anyone else.

so when connie repeats another "hm?" catching you off guard for the second time, that warm feeling returns because this time the pads of his fingers drum against your shoulder, a little to close to the junction near your neck.

"as long as ymir and sash keep me entertained, then yeah. this little 'party' isn't that bad." your quick with your response this time once he sets you back on track and you calm a bit.

"so ymir 'n sash are the life of the party for ya?" he pouts, and you scrunch your nose up when he leans in a little more, a mock pitiful expression on his face. "damn, 'n i'm supposed to be the birthday boy... that's crazy."

you can tell he's a little under the influence. despite it being his birthday he was actual one out of a few to keep their drinking at a light tonight. you couldn't say the same for armin who was currently passed out and curled up at the safety of mikasa's side on the large sofa, or for reiner who was last crying to ymir before she managed to 'shut the fuck up jockey' him as you walked pass.

you liked it like this though, liked to know that the interactions between you and connie weren't entirely the alcohol talking.

but it wasn't like it was ever really anything but him talking when he got more than comfortable with you.

light touches up the soft skin of your thighs, moving you around by placing his hands on your waist (where you must say they fit like a puzzle), or attacking you in tickles when he decided to crash at you and sasha's place and you wouldn't pass up the remote.

those were all connie, but it was nice to know that the person in front of you was mostly connie as well.

"you are... you just haven't been keeping me company as you should have." you lift up a hand right in front of his face and pretend to inspect your nails before dropping four fingers down to your palm and turning your nails to you once again.

connie let's out a low laugh at the gesture before using his own palm to cup the top of your hand. you expect him to push it down and let go but he only holds it in his grip with that same dumb smile plastered on his face as he doesn't fail to keep eye contact with you.

"ha-ha, so funny. you act like we didn't dance together," you recall the memory of connie hoisting you up from the couch and spinning you around until your backside was pressed against him, asking you to 'dance'. if anything that encounter is probably what encouraged the tingle between your legs and pushed you to follow connie into the kitchen. "sit together for like a good ass while, and play cards together— cheating together i might add."

you giggle, "did eren not realize that practically half the deck was under my ass and in your pockets?" connie reciprocates your giggle in his cheery tone and he raises the soda can to his lips again to empty it out inside his mouth.

"nah, but for real, what more company do you need?"

in the back of your head you had a solid idea of the kind of company you needed from connie, but you weren't even sure if your mind was quick enough to formulate it into a sentence that sounded appealing to the ears, enticing even.

a dramatic sigh leaves your lips and your hands come up to connie's head, one index plucking at the thin string below his chin and the other one holding the loud party hat until you were pulling it off and fiddling with it in your hand.

connie's hand automatically comes to rub at the short grey strands with a small frown at the absence of his hat. he stands up straight so he's peering down at you and his arm swings over your shoulder as he begins walking the two of you towards the exit to the kitchen abandoning his empty can of soda. "what?"

you slow down your pace so that he slows down and pull his arm from around you just as quickly as he placed it there massaging his knuckles in the process.

the eagerness to stay alone with him and not go back out where the chatters of all your friends would become tenfold is what makes you more bold, is what makes you back connie up towards the kitchen island until your practically leaning on him with doe eyes, fluttering your lashes and saying, "just wanna be alone with you for a minute..." you hesitate for a moment before beginning to speak again, "i gotta present for you, but we gotta go upstairs."

it's like your words alone manage to somewhat crack the demeanor he had going on. how his mouth slightly parts and how his body tenses up slightly tells you. you're thankful for the small adrenaline rush a measly walk to the archway gave you.

"shit, what's upstairs?" you relish in how he feeds into your words instead of stuttering under pressure and his hand moves to the small of your back pulling you even closer.

it's noticeable that he likes to feel your skin on his, and his hands are warm against the skin of your hip, practically singeing it with just his touch. it sends a hot feeling throughout your body and you indulge in him some more, fully enveloping your hand with his free one and giving a nice smile.

"if you come with me then it'll be me and you," and he lets you pull him along like a dog on a leash, sticking as close to its owner as possible as he's so close behind you that you can feel him up against your back as you begin to nonchalantly walk past your group of friends conversing in the living room.

for you it's easy to ignore their remarks and looks of 'finally'. after all, you knew they were coming. but connie couldn't, shooting silly faces to his audience as he lets you pull him along.

"they're finally fucking."

"go, birthday boy!"

"gettin' some birthday pussy!"

"_______, bite his dick off for me!"

the only phrase to elicit some sort of reaction from you is the mumbly one from sasha from whatever was in her mouth as she encouraged you to injure connie.

all the phrases seem to get one out of connie, from him pretending to fuck you from behind causing you to pinch the tan skin of his wrist to him making kissy faces at jean, eren, and even to ymir who further encouraged you to take a chomp out of his little friend.

you lead him through his bedroom door, immediately locking it because you know he'll forget and then turning to face him again.

when you turn back around connie's still looming over you, his hands lankily at his sides and it's as if he doesn't know what to do with them.

it makes you titter, and you take a step towards him pulling at his wrists place his hands back on your hips. "so what's my present?"

your hands come up to come his face and his skin is soft under your touch. he's warm and his breathing is unsteady as you lean forward to press your lips onto his.

he quickly returns the kiss, more fervently than you if anything. connie immediately groans as if the feeling of your lips on his was something he was craving.

connie pushes you against the door, a small thud eliciting from the way your back hits it and he lets go of your hips to cup your face and bring you deeper into the kiss.

the way he presses up so close against you makes you part your lips slightly giving him enough time to slip his tongue into your mouth until it's slotted alongside yours.

his knee parts your legs and bump against your crotch making you moan and let go of his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

you pull back to breathe for a brief moment— and connie's eyes are overcast with lust. he doesn't have that twinkle from earlier and his grip on your hips is tighter than it was a few seconds ago.

he breathes heavily and rests his forehead against yours then dropping his knee. "that wasn't all i get for my birthday, right?"

with another roll of your eyes you shake your head. "it'd be a little rude of me to leave you like this, yeah?"

you slide down the wall until your knees hit the carpet and sit back on your shins. your delicate hands slide down connie's chest until the tips of your fingers are brushing over the buckle of his belt.

"yeah," connie's eyes flutter shut and he places a hand on the door to once again steady himself. "'d be real fuckin' rude of you."

your hands make work of his belt, unclasping the loop, unzipping the zipper and unbuttoning his pants to begin shrugging down the denim.

you had barely even started doing anything yet connie's mouth was slightly parted in anticipation. it was amusing how even the slightest touch from you could elicit a reaction out of him.

you pride yourself in this, and you take your time letting your fingertips massage the length of connie's clothed cock beneath his boxers. his body stutters overtop of you for a quick second and you move your hands to the hem of his boxers to begin pulling them down.

he's pretty; a slightly flushed tip that complimented the tan color of his skin. he's clearly already hard and you swear when your hand wraps around him his dick twitches in your touch. "god," he mumbles.

his dick is heavy in your hand, and he's thick to the touch. with a few test pumps you prop yourself up on your knees once more and place a hand over his thigh. "c'mon," his tone is encouraging yet hurrying, needy.

you click your tongue at him before using it to kitten lip his tip, like you were just trying to get a taste. connie hisses above you and drops his hand down to the top of your head.

"c'mon, we can't take too long with everyone still down there."

you know he's only saying so because he wants to feel your mouth around him. he's only being needy because it's something he'd been craving over the course of a few months. you are something he had been craving and now that you were under him he wanted all of you, starting with what you were willing to give which happened to be your pretty throat.

nevertheless, he's the birthday boy and you want to help pleasure him, making him feel a euphoric feeling that you know he's longed for.

you stick your tongue out and slap his tip against the flat of your tongue, and connie lets out another short groan, his fingers scrunching your hair.

connie shudders from above you and you almost feel bad for teasing him. you let the warmth of your mouth consume him completely— well, as far as you can while your hand works at the remainder.

"yeah, yeah..." he hums and he opens his eyes  again to look down at you.

your mouth around him felt heavenly, and the image of you sucking him off was even better; cheeks hollowed out and hand pumping his length.

you were so pretty.

connie brings the hand in your hand down to your cheek to feel himself through the skin, his tip pressed up against the inside of your cheek as he slightly rolls his hips forward to fuck in your mouth gently.

you pull off of him, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and letting your saliva drip onto his cock.

"fuck, you can't do that," he whines and rubs his tip against your lips until you open up again for him and his hand returns to your hair. "stick your tongue out."

you obey. using the leverage he has on your locks, he pushes deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head as he thrusts forward. small moans leave connie's lips. he's infatuated with the way your tongue slides against his underside as you try your best to relax your throat to let him in.

he loves it, loves how your mouth is so wet and sloppy around him, how it feels so good to be inside you— and he wants to feel every part of you, not stopping at your mouth.

saliva drips from the corner of your mouth and you try to suppress the gags that try to come up. you whimper from underneath connie, and he pulls out to give you a minute to breath.

it's funny how he's breathing harder then you his chest heaving. "that fuckin' mouth,"

you give a slight smile at the compliment, pleased to know you were pleasing him.

"i need it s'more."

what kind of person would you be if you didn't give the birthday boy what he wanted?

so you give him more, using connie's thighs to keep yourself steady, relaxing yourself and breathing through your nose as you let connie fuck your mouth.

he becomes erratic, the grip he has on your hair is slightly painful but you know he's too caught up in his lust, too caught up in the haven that was your throat.

he's so lost in the pleasure that he doesn't warn you when he's about to cum and you only know by the way his cum spills down your throat making you cough and pull off of him.

what you could only assume was a "sorry" comes from him as he calms down, pulling up his boxers and jeans but forgetting to buckle his belt. his hand reached out for you to grab it.

you take it and he pulls you up until you're almost at his height again, that same dumb smile on his face. "did you like your present?" you hum after you clear your throat.

"duh..." his thumb comes up to wipe at the saliva around your mouth before pushing the digit between your lips. you waste no time entertaining him, sucking your spit up and popping off of his thumb. "you thinkin' you could gimme something else though?"

you snort, "what happened to we couldn't take too long cause everyone's downstairs?"

"i'm still hard, it's my birthday, i really don't give a fuck who's downstairs." his words contradict his earlier statement but you brush it off, pulling him by the string of his jacket and pressing another peck to his lips.

"get in the bed birthday boy."

#connie springer x reader smut #connie x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie aot #connie x reader smut #connie springer smut #aot smut #aot x reader #connie smut #sfw

[edie-baby]

we're okay, we're alright | lando norris

summary: When Lando Norris has a panic attack, McLaren's personal assistant, Olivia McKinnon, is there to calm him down. Even if they have to penguin walk.

word count: 2337

warnings: panic attacks

When a seventeen year old Olivia McKinnon first joined the McLaren F1 team as a personal assistant to their drivers, Fernando Alonso and Stoffel Vandoorne were in the cockpits, and she got along well with both of them. Fernando had become a bit of an uncle to the teenager, teaching her Spanish whenever she asked, and ruffling up her hair in the most inconvenient of situations. Stoffel was much like an older brother, he joked around with her, teased her endlessly, and was always quick to worry if anything happened to her - he also threatened to beat up her boyfriend when she found out he was cheating on her, but that’s beside the point.

The day the news broke that two new drivers would be filling the seats of the two men she was incredibly close to, it shocked Oli. She was finally getting used to the specifics of the older men’s orders - how they liked coffee, water, what food they liked in what moods, who they were always happy to answer calls from, and who to consistently avoid. And now she’d be having to learn it for two completely new people.

Carlos Sainz she had seen around the paddock, never spoken to nor been introduced to, however after the first few weekends of seeing her multiple times, they began exchanging smiles in passing. He seemed nice, and Oli figured she might be able to continue her Spanish lessons if they got on well enough.

Lando Norris however, Oli had a complicated relationship with. They had bumped into each other multiple times around the MTC when he was there for meetings or sim work, or during race weekends when he hung around the McLaren garage on account of him being a test and reserve driver. Zak introduced them multiple times, sure that a friendship would blossom between the two youngins quite quickly, however Lando was always quick to leave whenever Oli was near. After wondering if she had offended him, or done something wrong, she began to worry and spoke to Zak about the issue, not wanting to have tension between her and one of the men she would be working for. Zak spoke with Lando a few days later, and found out in quite a memorable conversation, exactly why Lando had such an aversion to the small brunette.

“I’m scared of her.” Lando muttered ashamedly. Zak couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, that the boy who drove fast cars was scared of a five foot two pixie of a girl who had a beaming smile and cute nose.

“How? She’s so small.” Zak chuckled, the image of Lando cowering away from a girl six inches shorter than him was one he wouldn’t forget.

“I don’t know, she’s just so scary. I feel like if she wanted to, she could say five words and I would be ruined. Completely, like she could tear me apart in a sentence. I also think she could probably take me in a fight.” Lando replied, fiddling with the bracelet on his right wrist, a nervous habit he had developed after his Mum gifted it to him. Zak merely laughed in response, a fond smile crossing his face at the young driver. He could see from the beginning the two were made for each other, Lando didn’t know it yet but it seemed he already had a very strong connection with the girl.

“Anyone could take you in a fight, Lando. Just be nice to her and I’m sure she won’t bite. Unless you ask, of course.” Zak teased, thankful for his easy going and close relationship with the eighteen year old. Lando went bright red, covering his cheeks with a nervous laugh, the serious eyes Zak was giving him pushing him to flee the room in the mess of flushed cheeks and embarrassed laughter.

I

“Oli! Have you seen Carlos or Jon?” Charlotte yelled, startling the brunette who was pouring over the weekend’s schedule. Olivia looked up, shaking her head at Charlotte who sighed in frustration.

“According to his schedule, Carlos should be in interviews for the next hour, and Jon should be floating around somewhere. Why? What’s gone on?” Oli questioned, double checking the schedule in front of her.

“I think Lando’s having a panic attack and I don’t know how to calm him down. I figured one of the boys would know.” Charlotte rushed out, causing Oli to stand up from her chair abruptly. She had dealt with many panic attacks during her high school years and knew firsthand how hard it was to ground yourself sometimes.

“Where is he?” Oli demanded, already gathering her belongings on the table while Charlotte pointed wordlessly to the drivers’ rooms. Oli set off, jogging through the McLaren hospitality, making a beeline for the Brit’s room. When she got up there, the door was partially open, and that was enough for Oli to push the door all the way open, then quickly closing it behind her to give Lando some privacy.

“Lando? It’s Olivia, Charlotte’s out looking for Jon and Carlos at the moment. She said you were having a panic attack, and I don’t know if you have them much but I wanted to try some breathing with you? You just have to follow along with what I’m doing, okay sweetheart? Big breath in through your nose, one, two, three, four. Now hold that breath in, two, three, four. And let it out through your mouth, one, two, three, four, five, six. Okay, we’re going to do it again. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. And out, two, three, four, five, six.” Oli attempted the most well known ‘calm the fuck down’ technique, something that never really worked for her but was often good for others. Lando didn’t seem to be able to hear anything she was saying, barely reacting to her presence when the door opened.

He was curled up in the corner of the small bed, his back against the wall, legs pulled tight up to his chest. His breaths were heavy and uneven, and Oli wondered how long he had been breathing like this as it most definitely wasn’t good for his oxygen consumption.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to try something different. I’m going to talk, and I want you to focus on my voice. You don’t need to listen to what I’m saying if you can’t, but just listen to the noise, alright?” Olivia tried again, slowly making her way to the bed. She sank down onto her knees in front of the bed, trying to come off as non-threatening as possible.

“You know, I really like your shoes. I usually don’t like the look of trainers, I’m more of a sneakers girl myself, but they look really nice. But we’ll have to get you some cool socks, they’ll get hidden by your pants most of the time but it’s always fun to have a bit of a secret. I’m wearing beer socks right now. They’re pretty cute, and no one can tell unless I pull my jeans up.” Oli’s ramblings didn’t seem to be doing much to help Lando either, his breathing and rocking completely undisturbed. Olivia wanted to try one more thing before she began repeating the process of different techniques.

She stood up, leaning slightly against the bed Lando was curled on and reached her hand out slowly. She aimed for his bicep, the skin to skin contact startled something in Lando and he jumped. Oli moved back immediately, scared that she had made everything worse when Lando’s hands landed on her own arms, hauling her pliant body up onto the bed and curling his body around her. His head rested next to her shoulder, his nose lightly brushing the fabric of her team shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He was still curled up quite a bit, his knees tucked close to his chest, the bony joints resting against Oli’s hips.

She heard Lando sniffle and turned to look at him immediately, a choked sob left his lips as tears trailed on a warpath down his tanned face. Oli wrapped her arms around Lando, pulling his head to rest on her upper chest, close enough to her heart that he would be able to hear it beating, whilst not completely smothering him in her boobs. Her hands began brushing through Lando’s hair, listening to the heartbreaking sounds of him sobbing so hard he was coughing.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay.” Oli whispered, her lips brushing the top of Lando’s forehead. His sobs began slowing, turning into whimpers and sniffles, then finally stopping to the rare sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing from the driver’s lips when he had calmed himself down. He attempted to untangle himself from his assistant, but she only held on tighter. Lando relaxed straight away, her fingers carding through his curls was so soothing that he could have fallen asleep right there.

“Do not apologise. There’s not a single thing to be sorry for, honey. Are you feeling a little better now? Your breathing is much better and your tears have stopped.” Olivia spoke, softly brushing the slowly drying tear tracks with the back of her index finger, the gentleness of her touch causing a lone tear to fall from Lando’s eye, catching on Olivia’s hand. He hadn’t been touched like this in so long, and knowing that she was only doing it because it was her job could have sent him spiralling again, but Oli caught the look swimming in his eyes.

“Hey, hey! Look at me, okay? We’re okay. We’re alright. Do you want to come with me to get you some water? Maybe a cup of tea? And we should get you a hoodie, you’re shivering like crazy, love.” Olivia was so patient with him, allowing him a few moments to process everything she was saying and speaking a little slower than she usually would. She made a move to get up, her arm outstretched reaching for a hoodie hung over the back of the couch that she presumed Lando had ripped off when he first got in the room. Just as her fingers grasped the material, Lando tightened his arms around her, his breath hitching at the lessened contact with the only thing that was holding him together at that point.

“Honey, I need to get your hoodie. You’re freezing and you’ll get sick if you don’t rug up soon. Look, we can shuffle over there together.” Oli held tight to Lando, scooching her body closer to the edge of the uncomfortable bed to reach out for the teen’s hoodie. She got it this time, letting out a breath that she had held in order to stretch her appendage further. She turned back to Lando, his orange and grey hoodie clutched tightly in her hands, his arms still wrapped in a death grip around her waist.

“Can you sit up for me? You’ll feel better once you’re warmer, and you can go right back to holding me once this is on, I promise.” Olivia assured, using her warm hands to coax Lando into a sitting position, his arms still around her, legs coming to rest on either side of her hips as she sat on her knees. His thighs were pressed tightly against hers, trying to keep as many points of contact with her as physically possible, and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting.

Slowly, Oli got one arm off her waist, slipping the orange hoodie onto Lando’s arm, letting him return it to her back once it was pushed up far enough. She did the same with the other arm, pulling it over his head moments after. Once the hood was down off his head, Olivia fixed his hair, small fingers threading through his curls in an attempt to return them to their previous perfection. Lando remained in his spot, eyes trained on a spot on the floor just over Oli’s shoulder.

“How about that water, sweetheart? I don’t care if we have to penguin walk there.” Oli joked, and she saw a flicker of confusion pass over Lando’s face. She figured it would be something to explain in detail at a later date, instead choosing to spin in her spot on the table, still folded up on her knees with Lando’s legs around her.

Olivia slipped off the bed, her own hands covering Lando’s to reassure him that he could keep them around her waist, his body following hers onto his own two feet when she got too far away from him. Oli continued shuffling forward slowly, hands still holding Lando’s while he followed her small steps to the door of the room.

“Are you okay?” Olivia whispered, feeling Lando curl himself around her more, his chin coming to rest over her shoulder, his curls tickling the underside of his jaw. She felt him nod against her and took it as her queue to open the door and begin the slow adventure to the canteen in the hospitality centre. It took them about three times as long as it usually would, and garnered a lot more looks than usual, however a lot of those stares were in awe of the young couple shuffling through the building. The innocence the two possessed while both working in such a cutthroat environment was adorable, the naivety in their unwillingness to let go of each other.

Zak Brown checked his phone when it buzzed, only to be greeted with a video of the company’s youngest employees that he had a certain fatherly protectiveness over. And after seeing them together, much of the McLaren staff were extremely protective of the two youngsters. They were comforted that their young driver had found someone he trusted and could rely on like the two before them.

The connection they made was an unbreakable one, and there was a bright future for McLaren with Lando and Olivia taking on everything side by side.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris x oc #lando norris imagine #Lando Norris fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4

[kkusuka]

hiii I was wondering if you could do a threesome w kuroo bokuto and y/n?? plsss💞

i can actually, that’s the fun part.

(I'm going to try to use gender-neutral pronouns, but the reader has female anatomy, I hope that’s ok!) 

I deadass just took this and ran with it oml. 

All 18+, public sex, circumstantial humiliation, slight voyeurism, orgasm denial, threesome M/F/M, they’re both kind mean but not really, slight degrading 

Synopsis: Your college chem class is kicking your ass so when your professor recommends you to Kuroo, who seems to come in a package deal with another owl-ish boy, you were more than thankful. 

4/25

You couldn't believe it, you were so sure you had done well on this test. You made flashcards and even scoured the web for as many quizlets on the subject as you possibly could. But one thing remained the same: Masahiro sensei’s chemistry class was kicking your ass. 

No matter how many times you looked at the reference tables and started at the elements you didn't understand a single word that came out of that man's mouth. What’s worse is that you seemed to be the only one who ever had trouble in his class, and he always made sure to let you know. 

Side glances during lectures, calling you out when he knows you have no clue what the answer could be, talking about how 'some people’ would do better if they tried harder. You just didn't know what else to do. 

So, in some twisted way, you were thankful when he requested to keep you a few minutes after class requesting to talk about some personal issues. Issues you wished would include a new grade and easier tests. 

But him telling you about a boy with exceptional grades who would be a perfect fit to help you out, was something you had expected, but did not want. You felt more embarrassed than you already were, couldn't he just give you a website where you could watch videos about ionic and binary compounds? 

Looking back to the phone number he had written for you on an index card, you relent. Sending a quick message to the number you shut your phone off and tried to get to your dorm, dropping onto your bed faster than you’d like to admit. 

Hey, this is y/n l/n, Masahiro-sensei gave me your number for possible tutoring, if you're up for it of course. Any time for me works. 12:56 pm 

Yeah, he let me know about a possible tutoring session, how about the library tomorrow at 4? 1:03 pm 

I'm Kuroo Tetsurou btw. 1:07 pm

And like that your day got 10x worse, you don't even know who this way. You at least hoped it was the boy with the fluffy hair in the first row. At least Masahio told him, you assume it may have gone worse, tomorrow at the library at 4. 

You could deal with that. 

-- 

Your first meeting had gone fairly well. You arrived that the library entrance five minutes early reaching for your phone to let the mysterious Kuroo Tetsurou know that you had arrived, but before you could get that far- 

“No need babe, I'm right here, L/n right?” 

He was tall, taller than you at least. Tall enough to be able to lock down at you. Looking at you with his narrow hazel eyes and his sleazy yet comforting cat-like smile. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a bright red- volleyball jacket? Nekoma volleyball club must be from high school. 

He led you to an isolated corner of the science section on the third floor, a place you had frequented during your mid-semester crying chemistry sessions-- hopefully your tears have dried up by now and you won't make a fool of yourself. 

He wasted no time asking exactly what you need help with and seemed more than surprised when you told him everything. He let out a laugh that made you want to get up and run away before letting you know that it was normal to be confused and that you would just start with the electron configurations. 

It was going great, he was an amazing teacher and knew exactly what to tell you to make you remember all the rules of the SPDF configurations and everything leading up to the oxidation states of the transition metals. It was just sad that he had to go over everything a second time just for you to get it in your mind. 

In the middle of explaining lead’s second oxidation state, Kuroos phone lit up with a notification a Bokuto was calling. Without a second glance, he declined the call and went right to the first state of silver. 

Three seconds in this same Bokuto called back after a few choice texts, letting out a sigh he apologized muting about a stupid owl not giving him a moment of rest no matter the time of day. 

He picked up and tried to walk away as quick as he could, the only thing you could gain from the conversion was a 

HEY HEY! you still at the library? Though you’d be done by now Kuroo!

To which Kuroo told whoever was on the end of the line, that he didn't mind and they should mind their own business. Then you were out of earshot. when he came back he looked as if the life was sucked from his soul. 

He plopped into the chair across from you and sat for a second before releasing a deep breath. He looked back at you connecting eyes--they looked impossibly cat-like under the lights of the library-- before shooting you a shifty smirk. 

“Babe you're doing great but I've gotta cut it off for today, and you don't mind if a friend joins us for the next few sessions? He isn't that bright.” 

It took you of all five seconds to think of your answer, another person who wasn't the brightest will make you look less stupid. Just the thought made you feel bad, you're sure that Bokuto was a wonderful person, hopefully, and did not deserve to be used to make you seem less hopeless. Yet still, 

“Yes! That’s totally fine, I'll see you in two days?” 

“Sounds great” 

--

“‘C'mon babe what's the dashed configuration of bromine?” 

You didn't know, or maybe you did. It's not like that would matter considering the two fingers curling into your sweet spot. You could only focus on the way he rubbed your throbbing nub that sent sparks straight beach into your core. 

“I-i I don’t- god, please, please, need to cum.” you were so close, Kuroo had already ripped two orgasms from you because you didn't know the answer, and you were going to scream if he did it again. “Please, wanna cum” 

“No can do baby Owl, that’s the deal no cumming until you get the question.” 

Bokuto. 

You would have forgotten he was there if it weren't for his piercing gaze on Kuroo’s fingers drenched in your slick. Not once has it wavered from you, your silt to you tits up to your lips. 

You had to try, he’ll stop. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know the answer, they know you know the answer. Somewhere else in your mind you think about how you got caught up in this in the first place. 

How Kuroo was frustrated and told you the if you got another wrong answer he would fuck the right one into you. Or bokuto purposely mocking him that sent him further until his hands were pulling your panties down your legs stuffing two fingers in your cunt, saying how he won't stop until you get all the answers right. 

“Two- e-eight- eight-teen- please please, si--six- NO seven, it’s seven. ‘M so close please” 

Kuroo seemed pleased with your answer, his hands moving quickly around your bud and curling further into your g-spot as Bokuto makes his way around the table to where the two of you are seated. 

Pulling the shirt above your head, Bokuto circles a nipple through the fabric of your bra commenting on how quickly it had pebbled, attaching his mouth to your other as Kuroo commanded you to cum around his relentless digits. 

Clenching around his fingers you hadn't noticed a head of white and black hair moving towards your center. Coming off the high of your orgasm you felt Bokuto’s tongue spread your lips as his nose circled your clit.  

“Oh, dude! You gotta taste ‘em! Like liquid gold, Man!” 

You flushed further, if possible, tethering a hand into Bokuto's hair. Understanding the compliment Kuroo swiped a finger along your slick-covered thighs and let a mockingly loud moan fall between his lips. 

As if you could be more embarrassed by the noises of Bokuto slurping whatever he could catch in his mouth, Kuroo’s coos of how red you look and how delicious you look, as the man under you eats as if it was his last meal. 

Two hands grabbed your waist and lifted you off Bokuto, placing you back on your feet. Turing you toward the wall of windows and hand on your back bent you over the table surrounded by all of your notes. 

“Look at that, she’s just gushing all over the place. All this over a chemistry lesson? Who knew I was teaching such a cockwhore this whole time.” a hand met your clit as Kuroo began to push into you, forcing you further into the table. 

You heard a gasping moan as he bottomed out, glancing over to where Bokuto sat hand around the base of his cock, standing as Kuroo waved him over to you. 

“I think you can fit two, right?”  and just like that bokuto was forcing his way into your clenching walls. There was discomfort until a soft pop to which both the boys let out a sigh. 

You feel so full. You didn't know who but one of them was brushing against your cervix. The first thrust came to you as a surprise,  following with a second's rest before the two of them created a steady rhythm.

The faster they went the more apparent it was, they were using you like a fleshlight. You couldn't even speak as a cock hit right at your g-spot. Back arching you let out a series of small “ahs” much to Kuroo’s enjoyment. 

“You fucking like this! Getting dicked where everyone can see. By two cocks no less!” he laughed pulling your head up from its place in your arms, making you have to look at your reflection in the glass. 

“No-no I-” a smack to your ass stopped you from trying to defend what little dignity you had left. There was no defending as Bokuto leaned towards your ear, never breaking rhythm. 

“No?,” he was practically snarling, “Then why the hell are you clenching our dicks so well, Baby Owl?”  

As if he flipped a switch your world went dark as you clenched further on the two men as you came. Riding out your orgasm neither of them let up the pace as they jackhammered into your poor pussy. 

Bokuto came first, with a loud groan of your name before he slumped into the chair he previously inhabited.  Settling to watch as Kuroo pulled your chest up to meet your back to his chest. Rutting into you as his orgasm rapidly approaches. 

If you weren't so sure this place was desolate you would be worried about someone hearing the slaps of your skin, or Kuroo’s final grunt as he filled you with his load, dropping you to lean on the table. 

At least your next chemistry test was graded with a 21/25, you’re sure the two of them will love to hear about that.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq #hq smut #hq x reader #my brain went brrrrrrr #this is kinda all over the place #kinda bad but whatever

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

��Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminals minds self insert #dr spencer reid #professor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #homoose writes

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST: White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

"Teach you what?"

"How to be a better man, how to have mercy, and compassion."

Unbeknownst to you, a little purple and pink cat watched every step you took. Of course, it wasn't because he cared. Cheshire (unlike many other Wonderland villagers) genuinely wasn't affected by your presence, or lack there of, but the Hatter had asked him, in exchange of a hefty reward, of course, to keep an eye on his beloved Y/N.

While watching over you Cheshire just did a whole bunch of growling and nose scrunching. He hated the sight of the King, and even worse, was the sight of such a man in love.

"Such a shame to be the bearer of bad news dear friend," Cheshire said, not at bothered by the fact that he had bad news to tell "but it seems as if Y/N will be our new Queen."

The cat twirled a strand of his coloured hair around his index finger, as he fell down onto one of the many chairs along with the Hatter's never-ending table.

The Hatter's eyes widened and so did his toothy smile.

"She's carrying on with the plan! She will decapitate him herself and become our Queen! Oh but I'm so happy I could dance the Futterwacken again!"

He clapped feverously and suggested a toast, clearly missing the meaning of Cheshire's words.

"I'm afraid you missed what I meant, Hatter. She will be our Queen, because she will be marrying the King."

The atmosphere suddenly became silent, eerie even. The Hatter's green, sparkly eyes transformed into an ugly, rage-filled, yellow. The man gripped the teacup on his hand so hard it broke, but the rage, disappointment, and growing heartbreak fogged his brain to the point where he didn't even notice the pain, nor the blood trickling down his palm.

The Hatter was rarely angry, but when he was, it was enough to scare poor Cheshire, who didn't hesitate in disappearing into thin air. Or he tried to. Before every bit of his body could be gone, the Hatter grabbed Cheshire's hair, making the cat groan in pain, and threw him on the ground.

"What has he done to her!? Was it a curse!?"

Cheshire caressed his head and stood up to look at the Hatter.

"It wasn't a curse Hatter, she fell in love. After you deceived her and the King showed her nothing but truth and love, the choice was pretty evident."

The reasonable explanation seemed to calm down the Hatter, whose eyes morphed back into their greenish colour. However the dread and panic in his face were still evident. Cheshire, still quite upset at Hatter's tantrum, could see on his friend's face an expression of someone about to spew a terrible, terrible idea.

"We must get her away from the Palace. It's gotten into her head. Let's get her back to us!"

The man-like cat floated back to his usual place in the air, twirling in the process. He chuckled audibly, showing his sharp canines in the process.

"Hmm yes, let's steal her away from the man she's come to love, so she could be with us, the people who lied to her for our own benefit. Sounds like a party if you ask me..."

"A party!?" Haigha exclaimed, his left eye twitching as he smiled widely at the mention of his favourite hobbie.

"That's where the King's behaviour comes in our favour," the Hatter said, patting Haigha's head so he'd sit back down "once he sees her take her beloved Queen away, he will show his true colours, Remember how scared and freaked out she was last time we saw her? She said he seemed really sweet while talking to her until he eventually snapped. Once he snaps, he will freak out and bring out the tyrant's behaviour and scare her away."

It was hard for Cheshire to admit, but his mad friend's plan wasn't so mad after all. It was possible to accomplish what the Hatter suggested, and there was nothing to lose, you already hated them anyway.

The Hatter slapped his thighs and stood up, fixing his big top hat in the process.

"Shall we go?"

Haigha was already standing up from his seat when Cheshire stopped them.

"Perhaps we should discuss the plan further... Something tells me we might need some help from Absolem and Bayard..."

Sneaking you out past the Card Knights would take a lot of help, and Cheshire had already worked out in his head the escape plan. It would take a little pressure on Absolem, as he managed to care even less about the people around him than Cheshire did, but the cat was sure he could get a shrinking cake out of the blue catterpillar. After shrinking you and hatter down to the size of a strawberry, Bayard (the loyal dog friend of Hatter's, that Cheshire tried his best to keep a distance of) would bring you to the White Rabbit's house, as it would be too obvious to come back to the Hatter's cabin.

The cat had no intention to help you, but he did like to see some drama and commotion in Wonderland once in a while, and this was his chance.

Whilst all of the furious planning went on on the greenlands of Wonderland, in the Palace you and the King sat opposite of each other on his bed, gossiping like two high schoolers.

"And then my best friend at the time, Anna, slept with my boyfriend and said it was 'because of a dare'. I forgave her because we had been friends for so long but then she told my crush that I smelled so I stopped being her friend."

The King nodded along and listened attentively (trying his best to cross his legs just like you, but failing miserably) to your story.

"Hm yes, yes, I understand. My best friend ate one of my tarts so I cut off his head."

You couldn't help but scoff at the way he compared the situations, although you reprehended him right after for the heartless act.

He had asked to know of your previous life, how it was back in your world, and so you sat there reminiscing your past for hours on end. Most people in Wonderland came from other places, but Seonghwa had never been elsewhere, as he was born in the Kingdom.

"So this establishment you call 'school', was it like a club you went to where you reunited with your peers?"

"No, no. School was a mandatory thing for all kids, we went there and a bunch of teachers taught us about different things."

"Hm, but all you've told me so far were anecdotes about these friends of yours, what were these classes like?"

You blushed slightly, realizing that in fact, you didn't remember shit from school, aside from past dramas.

"Well, they told us many things about earth, about what makes the world move, about how society works, and what makes things work. We learned about gravity, about numbers, about stars-"

"Stars!?"

The King's eyes lit up as if he was a child whom you had promised ice cream to.

"Yes, stars. Why?"

Seonghwa stood up from the bed in such a violent manner, he nearly fell. The man ran over to his closet, from where he retrieved an old book. The hard cover was beginning to tear, and the once white pages had become a weird mix of brown and yellow, but you took it in your hands nevertheless.

"This book once fell into the Wonderland when I was a child. I was alone most of the time, so it kept me company. I can tell from the images it talks about the stars, and I think I learned a lot from it since I stared at them a lot, but I cannot comprehend the alien language."

The King leaned against the headboard, and you laid beside him, placing your head on his chest, so you could hear his now nervous heart beating fast from the contact. Out of instinct, the King placed his arm around you and pulled you closer, as you opened the book.

You chuckled slightly, after seeing the author of the book and opening its pages.

"Seonghwa this isn't an alien language, it's Italian. Well, I guess it's an alien language to you, but it was funny that you said it that way... The person who wrote it was very influential back where I'm from, he taught the people of Earth many things about our space."

The male listened carefully as you tried your best to explain the things in the book as best as you could.

"This here is what we call the Solar System. It has nine planets, but only one of them has people, this one, where I live." You told him, pointing towards Earth.

Seonghwa noticed how your posture changed, after you remembered once more that you would never return home again, and panicked for a second. He disliked many things, but your tears had definitely gone up to his number 1 on the list.

"How about I ask for a picnic to be arranged in the garden, and at night we can watch the stars."

You turned to face him and smiled as you nodded. Seonghwa's thumb caressed your arm, and you couldn't help but to place a soft kiss on his lips, as a 'thank you'. No matter how many times you did that, the King never seemed to get used to it. He would always feel butterflies in his stomach and fireworks exploding on his chest. Sometimes you felt perverted, thinking of how he'd react if one day you decided to take it... further. You imagined how pretty he'd look... But you decided to take your time. Baby steps...

The King couldn't wait for dinner time, and you could tell from the number of times he had gone up to the window and pushed away the blinds to see if the sun was finally setting.

As he was staring out the window, you came behind him and wrapped your arms around his figure.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Seonghwa looked around, to make sure no one was nearby eavesdropping. He wouldn't want your secret to being known.

You tiptoed so your lips could be leveled with his ear.

"You're adorable."

Once you got back down and looked into his gleeful eyes, you smiled.

"Let's keep this secret between us!" He joked along.

"Yes, I wouldn't want the other ladies to know and steal you away."

Seonghwa held your face and lovingly placed a kiss on your forehead.

"The other ladies don't stand a chance next to you princess."

Your cheeks heated up and you slapped his chest out of embarrassment. The King's face grew worried and confused.

"Why did you hit me? Have I done something wrong? It was meant to be a compliment I'm sorry I compared you to-"

You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks, making him form an adorable pout with his red lips.

"Seonghwa, it was a good thing. I slapped your chest because I was embarrassed, I was really touched by your compliment."

Once you let go of his face, the King tapped his chin with his index finger, in a pensive manner.

"I have much to learn about our future interactions, I do not understand many things."

You just chuckled and took his hand in yours.

"We have many years ahead of us, you will learn someday."

The small acknowledgment of your future made Seonghwa very happy. Never in his pitiful life had he even thought of being this happy over small actions... Last week the only thing that brought him joy was the sound of a traitor's head hitting the concrete floors of the palace's main area, but since you arrived, a smile was all it took for his cold heart to start beating again.

It didn't take long before one of the frogmen knocked on the door to inform the picnic was ready. Seonghwa didn't let go of your hand as you walked outside, to sit among the red roses.

You had finally come to terms with Wonderland's weird food. You had no choice really...

"Have you never been attracted to anyone, Seonghwa?" You asked as you munched down on a sandwich of... whatever it was.

Seonghwa's expression faded a little.

"Once. I had just become King and I thought that the next step would, logically, be the find a Queen. Every woman displeased me. All but one. She was beautiful, hair as dark as the night sky, tanned skin from the sun, and a beautiful mole under the eye. But she was cold, evil... I thought that it was a perfect match. After all, I wasn't the most caring person. But she would treat me like a servant. Our relationship was purely to serve a purpose to the Kingdom, nothing else. We slept in separate rooms and spent the day apart. We only dined together, but since I saw the same behavior from my parents I thought that that was love. Our wedding had been scheduled long before she moved into the castle, we were simply waiting for the preparations to be finished. Everything was custom made, from the clothes to the flowers on every table. The day before the wedding I walked to her bedroom and found her laying with a servant of mine. You know, back when they weren't... Frogs. I had them both decapitated, of course. And I swore off love forever. That is until you came along."

You flashed him a sad smile and set down your food. He looked awfully confused as you climbed onto his lap, but he didn't protest.

You brushed his dark hair away from his eyes. Both of them. He suddenly felt very exposed and insecure, but you kissed his cheek, reassuringly.

"Ever since I came down here you've shown me nothing but love, and honesty. You didn't try to sugarcoat who you are, or what you've done, and I appreciate your honesty. My place in Wonderland is with you."

The male smiled, and kissed you, a little more passionately than all of the previous times. The male's hands trailed down your ass, and pulled you on top of his growing erection.

"For someone who has never been with anyone you're quite good at this."

"Well I... I lied. I had a fiancé after all, and we laid together but we didn't get far. There was no kissing involved, she just wanted to get it over with since I was the one who suggested we should... do it. But she made fun of me for not being good at it and I became... insecure. I was insecure and for the longest time I've wanted to try it with you, because you give me those special butterflies but I was afraid I'd disappoint you."

"What a cold, heartless bitch!" You thought to yourself. No wonder he was so bad at human interactions, every relationship he had was a trainwreck!

You grabbed his face and placed a long kiss on his lips.

"Well then, let me lead at first. If you start feeling more confident, you can take the lead, if not, I'll stay in control, okay?"

The King simply nodded and kissed you once more. This time deeper than he had ever kissed anyone. Tongues fighting so intensely the King nearly missed the way your hand expediently undid his trousers. Your hand slipped inside his boxers and took out his length. You looked down at the dick in your hand and widened your eye.

"Well aren't I a lucky girl."

You spat in your hand and kissed him again, as your hand worked up and down his shaft. The King was surprisingly very vocal, and he didn't try to hide or suppress any of his pretty moans (and for that you were thankful.

You stopped your hand, right as he was getting riled up.

"Ready for something better?"

The King watched you strip from your panties, and he cursed the frilly dress that covered your womanhood, but as soon as you sunk down on his cock, all of his worries and anguishes washed away. It was automatic, the way he gripped your hips and made you bounce on him as he snapped your hips against yours was something he did naturally as if he truly knew what he was doing. You brought out something different in him, and the King was simply doing was his body was telling him to do.

You gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed with the feeling of having him inside you.

"S-shit Seonghwa, you're good, r-really fucking good."

"Oh yeah?"

He flipped you two around, so he could pound into you with all the strength he had. Your words of encouragement were all he needed.

Your consistent (and loud) moans got him on the edge quickly, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Y/N forgive me, but I don't think I can last much longer."

Your hand reached down and began circling your clit, so when he came inside you, filling you up with his cum, you came right after, with a loud cry for his name.

Seonghwa laid on top of you, his face nuzzled on the crook of your neck, trying to regain his breath. You ran your hand through his hair as you did the same, looking up at the sky.

"The stars sure look beautiful today."

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez reader insert #ateez fanfiction #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop reader insert #kpop fanficiton #soenghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #soenghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #choi san smmut #choi san smut #ateez wonderland #ateez alice in wonderland #mingi #mingi fluff #mingi smut

[be-gay-do-heists]

a taste of home

When it came to cooking, almost nothing was off the table for Eliot. Part of the appeal for him was exploring new cuisines, trying out new techniques, and the satisfaction of experimenting with something and getting the taste just right, and then sharing it with others, was unparalleled. For every trashy action novel on his bookshelf, there were an equal number of cookbooks, and Eliot figured he had to have cooked every recipe in at least half of them. He just had one rule.

No family recipes.

The power of tastes and smells to stir up old memories was hard to overstate, and the memories that Eliot had of his childhood were painful, or made so by the harrowing distance that separated him from that time in his life, from his younger self. Once, he had tried to make his mother’s chili in a bolthole of a safe house in Ontario, raw hands trembling around his knives. He ended up having to throw the whole thing, pot and all, out into the snow, unable to take a bite; for the rest of the day he had been unconsolable. Now, when he wanted some dish that had been a staple at his childhood table, like brisket, grits, or fried okra, he put enough of his own spin on it that it no longer formed a bridge to his past. His recipes were new, well-tested, and well-enjoyed, even if they lacked a certain depth that the ones inherited from ancient binders and crumbling index cards had.

Eliot paused at the cooking smells coming from the brewpub kitchen. It was a holiday weekend, and the restaurant was closed to give all the employees a proper day off, which meant he had been gearing up to take advantage of the free space and cook dinner for whoever on the team was around. He gripped his armload of groceries tighter and pushed his way through the door, growling at seeing Hardison leaning down in front of the oven, looking between it and his phone.

“Dude, what are you doing in here?” Eliot took in the bowls and pots littering the countertops. “You’re making a mess of the whole place! I was supposed to be making dinner, I can’t clean all this up too!”

Hardison had whipped around, but leaned back against the counter when he saw it was just Eliot. “Man, chill, I’ve got dinner tonight. And dishes too, I promise, just stay cool.”

Eliot stood where he was, unmoving, while he processed this. “You’re cooking dinner.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said,” Hardison said with an eye roll. “I can cook, I’ve got my specialties, you just don’t get to see my astounding culinary skills unless it’s a special occasion.”

The hitter forced himself to move, slowly putting his groceries down and starting to sort refrigerated and non-refrigerated items. Normally he’d be more put out about having to move his cooking plans to the next day, but G-d help him, he was slightly intrigued. “And the special occasion today is?”

“I had a craving,” Hardison shrugged. The timer on his phone went off, which he quickly silenced, and he put on oven mitts with a grin. “For this.”

Eliot stepped a little closer as the hacker opened the oven and pulled out a steaming golden casserole, melty cheese bubbling up around the noodles and crispy breadcrumb top. He detected cheddar, onion, a hint of bay, and just a bit of something sweet that he couldn’t identify….

“It’s a mac-n-cheese,” he said, unimpressed, folding his arms over his chest.

Hardison shot him a look that he didn’t see too often anymore, the ‘you have impugned my honor and are so wrong’ kind of look. “Excuse you, not just any mac-n-cheese, this is Nana’s recipe. She used to only pull it out for special parties, but I figured if we had the ingredients I could make it any time I wanted. She sent me the recipe a while back and if this ain’t as good as hers I’m gonna lose it, I swear.”

Mac-n-cheese was a comfort food beyond compare, Eliot well knew, and family recipes of it varied like spots on dogs, but he remained skeptical. Although Hardison was a reliable cook when it came to either very simple or very eccentric dishes, and from what he knew Nana’s recipes were sublime, he wasn’t sure whether this merited mixing up his cooking schedule.

At Eliot’s unconvinced look, Hardison procured a tasting spoon from one of the nearby drawers and scooped a tiny bit off the corner of the casserole. “Fine, you know what, you are getting a special pre-dinner taste so I can laugh in your face at how good this is. And also get your input on seasoning, cuz I might not have put enough pepper in there.” He even blew on the spoonful to cool it down for the hitter. “Alright, try this.”

Eliot reigned in his grumbling and leaned forward to take the bite Hardison offered him, freezing as the flavor profile hit his tongue. His thought process stuttered as he tried to place all the tastes, and he stared at the hacker, dumbfounded.

“What the hell is in this?”

“Chili paste, in the béchamel,” Hardison said with a wry grin. “And, along with the noodles, butternut squash. Nana tried to slip as many vegetables into her dishes as she could when all us kids were growing up, and if it was in season—“

Before he even knew it Eliot was surging forward to kiss Hardison, hands reaching up to grasp at his shoulders like he was possessed by some nameless fervor. He felt the hacker’s surprise for only a second before he responded against his lips in kind, and after a couple moments Hardison placed a firm, broad hand against Eliot’s chest to push him back. The hitter reveled in the feel of the pressure and stepped back responsively, even though he was loathe to give up their closeness.

“Now I know it’s good, I didn’t know it was that good,” Hardison breathed, slightly flushed.

It had been delicious, all the flavors complementing each other to form a warm, cozy feeling, but what had gotten Eliot was the amount of love poured into it. Someone had loved this dish enough to perfect it, introduce new elements, add vegetables for picky eaters. Someone had loved it enough to crave it, ask for the recipe, try their hand at making it himself. It was a dish crowded with memories, happy, proud, homey memories, making this one family recipe that he could stomach, precisely because it wasn’t his.

“It just tastes like home, is all,” he muttered, masking himself with grumpiness, which he couldn’t keep up for long when Hardison smiled fit to outshine the sun.

#leverage #miko speaks #my fic #just a quick ficlet for today while i take a break from the meg stories and decide on a trajectory for them!! #hope yall enjoy! #alec hardison #eliot spencer #hardison x eliot #this would be ot3 if i could fit parker in there but i just didnt know how to do it #also your daily reminder to put sriracha in ur bechamel sauce you will go insane

[clouditae]

First Love | 19

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 3.9k

Beta reader: jinned

happy birthday to yoongi

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as the tips of your fingers brush along your lips. You can’t stop the smile growing as you remember the kiss. How he brought his lips to yours, taking you by surprise for a moment before your eyes flutter to a close and feel his lips move along yours. It fits perfectly with yours; soft, warm and sending butterflies in your stomach. You felt the fireworks and the rapid beating of your heart—it’s completely different from Hanbin. You toss to your side, burying your face in your hands as you feel the blush creep along your cheeks. You love him. You told him confidently that day and you have no regrets. 

So what does that mean for the two of you? Are you a couple? You thought the same thing with Hanbin, but it wasn’t until he asked you to be his girlfriend that you learned you two were just dating for a few weeks. Ari even told you that everyone starts dating to test the waters before they decide if they want to be official or not. So, you’re not a couple with Yoongi. Unless he has a different view on what official means and that kiss makes you a couple? But it also might not be that. Maybe it’ll only be a kiss and that’s it. You’ll never know what it’s like to date him and you’ll be alone the rest of your school year and find some old dude to be your lover because you’ve only loved Yoongi since then. 

“Oh my God I’m scaring myself,” you mutter to yourself, sitting up. You have to talk to him. You have to ask him if what happened that day means something more to him like it does for you. Climbing out of bed, you slip on your shoes and step up to your door, hand outstretched towards the handle. But you can't bring yourself to grasp it. Your hand idles, thoughts fighting against each other before you’re back in bed. “I’m not going. I’ll wait it out.” You’re under your cover, hiding from reality. 

So much for thinking you’re a new person with so much confidence.

“You’re such a wimp.”

“I am not!” you defend, but you know she’s right. Ari is one hundred percent right today, but you don’t want to admit it out loud. 

“Yes you are. Now grow a pair of bigger boobs and go ask him!” She shoves you towards the door, but her push is barely strong enough to nudge you. 

It’s been almost a week since you had your kiss with Yoongi, and your last talk with him, too. He’s been unreachable—always at school or too busy to even give Hoseok the time of day. You’re thinking it’s because he has an important assignment coming up, but then you’re also thinking he’s having second thoughts about the kiss. He never said anything to you that day after the kiss. He told you he needed to focus on his work and you left. Nothing was said. Nothing is ever said when it comes to him. 

Why do you like him again?

“I’ll do it later,” you whine, stomping your feet like a child as you climb into bed instead. 

You can see her staring daggers at you as she stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. You can see she’s thinking of something, but you don’t know what. Finally, she says, “You have a week to talk to him. If you don’t, I’ll go over there and ask him myself.” You can’t help but open your mouth in shock. Did she really just— “Got it?” she says, rather than asks. Groaning, you toss your blanket off you and slide off your bed, grabbing your backpack on your desk chair and slip on your shoes. “Where are you going?” she asks as you turn the handle to open the door. 

“To study on campus,” you half yell, opening the door, heading out of the room.

You're about halfway down the hall when you hear your dorm room close and open again with Ari yelling, "You better not forget what I said!"

No words are said from you as you push the side door open and head down the flight of stairs. You almost trip from the frustration Ari gave you, but you catch yourself and take careful strides down the rest of the steps. No one is really outside today—no one is heading towards the bus stop to take the fifteen minute drive towards campus. Maybe you'll have time to calm down in the shuttle and prepare yourself for a test that's weeks away.

You just needed to get out of the room and away from Ari's unnecessary glares. Reaching the sidewalk, the shuttle has just pulled to a stop. It seems like you'll have to wait fifteen or thirty minutes before the vehicle will take you to the campus. As the doors open, a few people exit the large, white bus—one of them being Yoongi who notices you immediately. You can feel your heartbeat quicken, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in an instant. You don't understand how he can cause such chaos within you, but he does it every time you see him. You can imagine the kiss so clearly. His soft lips brushing along yours, thumbs running across your skin leaving a hot trail behind.

He's looking at you expectantly as the rest of the passengers leave along with the driver towards the buildings. It's not as obvious for you as it is for him, but you realize your mouth is open as if you're going to say something. Your body betrays you rather quickly before your brain can even comprehend what you're doing. Yet, he continues to wait there for a few more seconds before he turns his attention ahead of him and he starts towards his room.

"Um," you begin, seeing him stop in your peripheral, "I was wondering..." Wow you're struggling. Where did all that confidence you had when he kissed you go? Where did the ‘don't think just do’ motto go? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to face him. "What are we exactly." Okay. You said it. Now the ball is in his court.

He's staring at you with a look you can never read, eyes blankly staring and mouth set tightly. Is what you thought about earlier really true? Was it just testing out the waters? Does he not like you? Why are you always right?

"What do you want us to be?" he asks.

You blink once. Twice. Just trying to comprehend what he just said and double checking with yourself to make sure what you heard is right. "What?" you ask, not wanting to answer just in case you did hear wrong.

He takes several steps towards you until he's a few inches away, his cedar wood cologne invading your senses as he repeats himself, his warm, minty breath fanning your face, "What do you want us to be?"

Okay he’s close. He’s super close. You can see the flecks of light brown swimming in his darker brown colored eyes. Taking in a deep breath, you answer, “I want to be more than what we are.” You said it. You did it—oh God you said it. What’s he going to say?

“Friends?” is his response to your statement. 

Is he testing you? Is that what he thinks you mean? You shake your head nevertheless. “More than friends,” you mumble, feeling smaller than you did when you first opened your mouth. 

He watches you. Searching for something you don’t know of. You can’t help but squirm, eyes shooting down to his black shirt as he looks at you for a moment. Finally, he answers, “Okay.” Your gaze is back to his again, shock clearly visible on your face. “If that’s what you want,” he adds.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him. 

He hums in response before he slowly leans in. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him get closer and closer before you close your eyes and wait. You’re going to kiss him again. You’re going to feel his warm, soft lips against your own— “The bus is coming,” he mumbles, and your eyes shoot open, head quickly turning to look behind you. The bus has its left blinker on as it slowly gets onto the road. You’re quickly running past him, never saying your ‘goodbyes’ as you run as fast as you can to the stop before the bus drives past it. To your luck, you make it before the bus does. As quickly as possible, you dig through your backpack for your bus pass as the bus driver notices you and pulls over and comes to a stop in front of you. 

The doors open and you smile gratefully as you step onto the vehicle. “Hello,” you tell him, taking in a deep breath after running the short distance suddenly. He greets you as you press your card to the scanner, hearing the satisfied beep, and make your way down the aisle and take the window seat just in front of the second door at the center of the bus. You’re putting your card back into your backpack when you hear the scanner go off, indicating that another person barely made it. The bus jerks forward as you zip your backpack up and someone sits next to you.

You look at the figure in surprise and realize it’s Yoongi. He settles into his seat, eyes forward as the bus skips the second stop, turning right onto the first cross. "Let's go on a date," he says, finally turning his attention on you. He looks so calm when he says it while it's most likely clear that you're in complete shock. "What do you have to do today?" he asks.

"I...um"—you swallow the lump in your throat—"I'm going to fill in my study guide for my test in a few weeks," you answer, hiding your hands under your backpack to clutch the straps tightly. Your heart is racing so hard right now.

"Let's go on a date after."

"I don't know how long it'll take for me to finish..."

"I'll wait," he replies as he looks ahead, seemingly not wanting to hear any more excuses.

For the rest of the ride you're lost in your thoughts on the entire scenario that played out within the last ten minutes. You try to hide the smile playing on your face, so you look out the window. The ride towards school is a quick one, only one stop was made before it comes to a stop at the final destination on campus and you follow Yoongi off the bus, walking out the door behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your excitement as you cross the small road and head towards the library entrance. The two of you are walking side by side down the pathway until you finally reach the building entrance. The outdoor seating is empty as Yoongi opens the glass door for you to enter first. You shyly thank him and enter inside. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel the beating of your heart as if Yoongi being a gentleman is foreign to you. He’s done it before, but now it’s real in a sense. It’s not practice for you like it was before—it’s genuine. Yoongi is back at your side, and reaching the elevator lobby, you enter the stairwell and head down the stairs to the lower level study area.

Yoongi follows in tow, walking quietly as the two of you enter the rather empty room and you take the table under the skylight where the sun shines through the clouds and trees. Taking a seat, you try your best to hide the blush creeping when Yoongi sits next to you. And so, you try your best to focus on your study guide while Yoongi messes with his phone.

It's been a few hours when you finally finish answering all the questions. You put the guide away in your notebook, close it as well as your textbook and finally turn to Yoongi. He has one hand outstretched before him while the other is tucked under his head as he sleeps. You're lost in awe as you admire his beauty. He looks so peaceful; lips slightly parted, the tips of his jet black hair lie along his eyelids, and you can faintly see his back rise and fall with each breath he takes.

Your heart swells and you can't help but raise a hand and let your fingers brush the strands of his hair away from his eyes. His hair is softer than you thought it would be. Your hand lingers in his hair, brushing the strands away further back from his face before his eyes slowly open. Your hand is immediately back at your side, the color to your cheeks turning pink as you try and pretend you’re just packing up rather than staring at him for a few minutes. 

From your peripheral you can see Yoongi slowly sit up, stretching his arms before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are you done?” he asks, voice croaky and gravelly. 

“Y-yeah.” You stutter, packing everything into your backpack. You’re clearly not looking calm with a few papers falling from the stack as you’re trying to put it in your binder, or your zipper getting stuck when you try to open your backpack, or even your hair continuously falling into your face no matter how many times you push it back, but either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to. “Uh.” You clear your throat. “Did you still want to…” 

“You hungry?” he asks, saving you the struggle of trying to finish your sentence. You hum in response, letting out a quiet breath. It’s hard to play off like you’re not internally panicking. He rises to his feet, and you do the same, holding your bag in one hand. “Let’s go eat,” he voices, pushing his chair in and waits for you to follow before the two of you head upstairs. 

As you step out into the crisp, Saturday afternoon air, the once blue sky is gone and replaced with gray clouds. You slip your arms through the straps of your backpack as you put it on, attention turning to Yoongi as he tells you, “Let’s have sushi.” You agree, already imagining the taste of the rolls you’re going to consume as the two of you head in the direction of the food court. Yoongi walks alongside you, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. It’s something you’re not used to in all honesty. He usually walks ahead when the two of you go somewhere together, and the rest of the time you’re trying your best to keep up. Now, however, he’s keeping at your pace and it makes your chest flutter and a smile trying desperately to appear on your face. You’ve never felt so happy and nervous at the same time.  

Reaching the food court, you see a few people sitting scattered at the tables working on their assignments or chatting with their friends. You follow Yoongi towards the Japanese stand where the line is empty. When you reach the register, the man smiles and asks, “What would you like to order?” Yoongi says his order then looks towards you. After a few blinks of confusion, you realize he wants you to add your order in as well. Telling the man your order, he totals up and takes Yoongi’s card who had it out already before you could even dig in your backpack for yours. 

You find a table at the corner of the building, isolated from everyone else. You take a seat against the wall while he takes the chair across from you. “You’re nervous,” he comments after a few seconds of silence. You open your mouth to answer, yet nothing is said. You close your mouth and look away in embarrassment. You finally have him, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t. That this could all be a dream. “Are you having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, suddenly all the words spilling, “I want to be with you. I just never expected for it to happen and I’m just…a mess.”

He watches you for a second before saying, “Okay.” His name is called and he leaves to retrieve your food. 

While the two of you eat, no words were really said. You can’t think of anything to say, and Yoongi seems to be distracted with his food. It takes about halfway being done with your plate that he finally strikes up a conversation. Sadly it’s about your summer, so you had to do a lot of dodging when it came to Hanbin. Would he get jealous? Angry? Will he ask what happened between the two of you? You’re not sure, but you’re not going to find out right now. 

During his summer, Yoongi tells you he spent most of his time working at his shop, mastering his producing skills, and hanging out with Hoseok when they’re both free. “A simple summer,” he explains, placing a roll in his mouth. 

When the two of you finish, you feel satisfied and happier to have spent a calming date with Yoongi. You remember the last time he took you out on one—well a practice one, but the two of you argued and the whole date was ruined. This one’s real, and so much better than any date you’ve been on. Throwing your box in the trash, you head out the building only to be met with heavy rain. You stand under the awning with the rain pouring and the campus empty as far as the eye can see. Yoongi sighs, “Guess we’re running.” Turning to look at him, he does the same before his hand grabs yours and pulls you out from under the awning, the two of you running. 

You cut through the Psychology building, getting a bit of protection from the rain before you’re running along the road towards the bus stop. You try your best to shield your eyes from the rain, but nothing you do helps, so you rely on Yoongi to lead the way. Your legs are burning by the time you reach the bus stop, the two of you hiding under the bus shelter with heavy breaths. Looking around you notice that no one is around. You’re guessing everyone left before the rain hit while you were oblivious to the possibility of it coming. You should have brought an umbrella or—

Yoongi cups your cheeks softly, bringing your attention to him. Looking at him you take in his features. The tips of his hair stick to his forehead, drops of water fall from it, his mouth slightly parted as his pants become lesser. No matter how he looks, he will always take your breath away. 

“I want to know that when I wake up tomorrow, I can see you and hold you without thinking this is a dream. I want to be more than friends, too.” 

You’d think you would have so much to say from his confession, but nothing comes to mind. So, you repeat what he said hours ago when you told him what you wanted, “Okay.” You’re surprised, and it may be evident on your face as you watch his eyes dart from side to side as if he’s searching for something you don’t know. You try your best to let him know that you want this, that you want to be with him more than anything, and you can only hope it gets through to him. It seems like it does as his eyes stop searching and he’s looking at you with a calm, confident look as he leans in, eyes closing and his lips gently press to yours. 

Your eyes come to a close as you kiss him back, feeling that unfamiliar, yet wonderful sensation you felt when he kissed you the first time—the fireworks, the dozens of butterflies swarming your stomach, and your heart racing faster than when Hanbin kissed you for the first time. Warmth over takes the cold as your lips brush along with familiarity, as if the two of you kissed a thousand times before. You want to enjoy the kiss for as long as you can, but he pulls back lightly, his warm breath blanketing your lips. Opening your eyes, you can see his soft gaze staring at you for a brief second before he kisses you one more time as the sound of a vehicle comes to a stop in front of you. 

You feel like you’re on cloud nine, like nothing in this world could break you down right now. The feeling of his kiss lingers on your lips, and you want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him again. You just want to be lost in his lips. 

As the two of you separate from one another, the shuttle doors open and the two of you quickly get in. Taking a seat at the back, you sit next to the window and Yoongi beside you, taking your hand in his as he settles further into his seat and closes his eyes. 

You’ve never enjoyed a bus ride as much as you do right now, feeling his thumb brush along your skin as the driver comes and goes at the next two stops, no one else enters the shuttle. The rain continues to pour from outside, creating small puddles on certain parts of the street with cars zooming over them and creating a splash. Music is playing over the speaker, a faint soothing song against the overpowering rain and cars zooming by.

A while later the shuttle comes to a stop in front of the entrance to your dorm building, Yoongi’s eyes open and he gets up from his seat, your hand still in his as he leads you out of the vehicle. You thank the driver before the two of you are running across the parking lot and up the flight of stairs to the second floor door. You hide from the rain as Yoongi fishes out from his pocket his ID and presses it to the scanner. A beep is heard and he opens the door, letting you enter first. 

Walking down the hallway, you stop at your door, turning to Yoongi. He tucks your hair back behind your ear as he instructs, “Go get warm before you catch a cold.” You nod. “I’ll see you later.” 

As he turns to enter his room you grab his hand. He turns back around. “We’re a couple,” you say, your statement not sounding like a question like you wanted. He nods in response. “You’re my boyfriend,” you mutter, nervous for his answer. 

He chuckles, a smile you’ve never seen before appearing on his face. You forget how to breathe as you stare in awe at his simple yet bright smile. “I am.” He steps forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “Go inside,” he tells you, and you let his hand go and do as instructed. Pressing your ID to the scanner, he whispers, “Goodnight.” and you enter your room, the biggest smile on your face with cheeks as flushed as they can be. 

Ari drops everything she’s doing and listens to you as you tell her about the greatest date of your life. 

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsgoldnet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi au

[mello-jello]

Hi Jello! Got a prompt for you (feel free to do a drabble/one-shot or a fanart for this): Levi and Hange playing tabletop games but Hange's too competitive so Levi lets them win once in a while even though he knows every strategy (hint, hint: would be nice if you could base this off on how you and your husband interact!) Enjoy!

Thank you for the prompt R.K! So... Here's some projection...

Hange crossed their arms and slumped backwards into the kitchen chair, pouting.

They lost again.

Levi sat across the table and calmly started collecting cards and pieces. "Good game," he says.

"Was it?" Hange asked, a little too bitterly.

Levi barely reacted to Hange's tone and replied, "Of course; I like playing with you."

Hange's eyebrow twitched as they fought the urge to flip the table. They were being childish and they knew it. It was just a game and they were just spending time with Levi, but something about the way he always won was infuriating.

He never took long to take his turns. It was like he never struggled with finding the right strategies or like Hange’s turns weren't challenging for him at all. They would try so hard to have good turns, really racking their brain as to how they could most benefit themselves while also being a hindrance to Levi.

The scores were almost never even close and no matter how much effort Hange put into a game, Levi expected everything Hange could think of and had a counter-move ready for it. After spending up to 15 minutes taking their turn, the most they ever got was a, "good move," and then Levi would effortlessly take the lead again.

It was maddening. He wasn't even trying!

"Do you want to play again?" Levi asks before closing the box.

Hange scoffed and stared at raindrops on the window. They were conflicted and somewhat embarrassed that they felt this way.

"Well? Or we can try a different game?"

Hange sighed, putting their thumb and index finger on the bridge of their nose, not giving a real answer. They both did and did not want to play again. On one hand, Levi was their most favourite person in the whole world and they wanted to participate in his hobbies. On the other hand, Hange knew their salty attitude was taking over. It would be really nice to win once in a while. Or even feel like they had a fighting chance.

Levi and Moblit were into intense tabletop games. Games that took 8-9 hours to complete, like Twilight Imperium. Nine hours is way too long! For the lighter games, there were monthly board game nights with Erwin, Mike, Nifa, Moblit, Eld, and Petra. Hange was always invited and welcomed, but they were often miserable. Turns out, a lot of board gaming involves keeping track of numbers, which did not appeal to them as a relaxing activity.

Hange uses their brain all day at work and when they get home most days, they just want to relax with a book or Netflix.

Why couldn't Hange be more like Petra? She wasn't especially skilled, but she was gracious and was always down to play whatever the group suggested, and seemed to genuinely enjoy herself.

Levi pulled out his favourite game: Sakura Arms. He held the box up with a pleading face. Hange's chest felt heavy. Oh fuck, not that one. It was so complicated! First you have to pick your characters that somehow have to complement each other’s stats, then build a deck with synergy, and then battle Levi, who has played this game countless times with numerous opponents that were all better than Hange.

The last time they played, Hange conceded early and said, "I think I made a terrible deck and there's no way I can win from here".

"Okay, let me see".

Levi took a look at Hange's hand and said something along the lines of, "No, this isn't terrible. You could do this, this, or this, oh and that is an option too. You'll want to play around the card I obviously have in my hand, so that stops you from using this, but you could have survived a few more turns".

Hange stared at him, dumbfounded. "Obviously?"

"Yeah, you know I have it because I used it two turns ago, but I used this card to reshuffle my discard pile on my last turn."

They continued staring. How the hell does he keep track of all that? Hange was smart, right? This is just a silly game that's supposed to fun, what the fuck?

So when they saw the box in his hands, and the eager look in his eyes, Hange couldn't help it; they felt the tears coming. Stupid, childish tears, betraying them. It was ridiculous to cry over this. Although they suppose crying is better than raging.

"What's wrong?"

Hange sniffed. “I’m sorry, I'm such a big baby".

Just play the stupid game with your husband, they mentally scold themself. They love Levi with all their heart, so why was this so exhausting? It’s not like he ever asks them for anything. He cooks, cleans, does the laundry, and also has a job of his own and he never complains. Why couldn’t Hange just pretend for his sake?

Levi put the game down. He walked to the other side of the table and wrapped his arms around Hange’s shoulders, and gave them a quick peck on the cheek.

"You don’t have to play if you don’t want to. And you're my big baby, and I love you anyways". He gives them a reassuring squeeze.

Hange scoffed again, looking at the ceiling to keep more tears from spilling over. Great, now he was being sweet and Hange felt guilty. What did they ever do to deserve this man?

“That’s the thing: I do want to. At least I want to want to,” they explained and Levi tentatively listened while returning to his seat. “I just… it feels shitty to always lose. I feel so stupid. But I know you’re not going to let up on me”.

Levi gave a knowing look. "Hange, you don't actually want me to let you win. That would be an insult to your intelligence. When you do finally beat me, it's going to be because you deserve it".

Hange smiled on one side. He was right. It would be patronizing if he just let them win. And it wouldn't be rewarding either, knowing he was going easy on them. “Okay, but be honest: is it actually fun for you to play against me? Doesn’t it feel like you’re playing with a toddler?”

Levi snorted. “Give yourself some damn credit, Four-Eyes! You’re only stupid for thinking you’re stupid”. He crossed his arms, genuinely offended at the notion of Hange being self-conscious.

“Wouldn’t you rather play with someone more challenging? Like Moblit?”

“I didn’t marry Moblit”.

“That’s a shame,” they said sarcastically, already feeling better. Levi gently kicked them under the table.

“But, it really is fine if you don’t want to play, I appreciate you trying though. As it turns out, I just like hanging out with you.” Levi was serious again, but Hange was back to their bubbly self and felt like being a little shit.

“You know, I’d be okay with Moblit being your board game side-hoe. He can satisfy all of your needs,” they wiggled their eyebrows at him.

Levi scowled and said, “Yeah, there are a few needs of mine I am certain Moblit can’t help with”.

“Hoo HOOO there’s an image!”

“Ugh, can you not?”

“The two of you, huddled in a dimly lit room, strategizing late at night, silence only fueling the sexual tensi-”

“Please stop,” Levi covered his face with his hand.

Hange giggled, satisfied with his bashful reaction.

“How about we watch something instead?” He offered. “There’s a new episode of “Assault on Gargantua” coming out on CrunchyRoll in 20 minutes. The horrors of that show are nothing compared to what you just put in my mind, so it’ll be a nice palette cleanser.”

Hange beamed. “I’ll get the popcorn!”

#levihan fanfiction #levihan #this is me projecting #aahhh what