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mockerycrow · 11 months

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Love your works! May I please get a "don't worry, i'm not going anywhere." with Ghost? Take your time, I love what you write!

400 Follower Celebration

—“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”— With Ghost

Summary: You’re apart of the 141 and Ghost recently had a near-death experience. You’ve been plagued with nightmares about the situation, but you try to hide it from him, feeling selfish about your night terrors. One night, you’re thoroughly convinced Ghost had actually died.

A/N: THANK YOUUU I KEEP BLUSHING ILY AND TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS

[WARNINGS: vomit, detailed nightmares, panic attack, gore, fake-death, angst, hurt/comfort.]

It was always the same nightmare. It was a repeat of that one mission months ago—nearly a year ago by now, where you and your team went to grab some important intel about a new uprising cartel that was showing some dangerous potential. It was a large compound, four floors including the basement, wide rooms with many blind-spots. Using your rifle equipped with a heat signature sensor, you swept room to room, leading your team through the building, putting anyone down who dared fired a bullet at you or your team.

You turn that familiar corner and your heart sinks. You’ve tried many times to change the course of this dream, but no matter how frantically you try to scream about what is waiting on the other side of that door, your mouth refuses to work until Ghost rumbles out, “I’ll take point.” You try to fight every muscle in your body to stop this, but it’s like the dream freezes until you continue down the.. “right path”. Quite literally is a living fucking hell for you, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it except do what it wants you to do.

“Roger.” You mutter, backing up behind Ghost instead of staying in front of him and leading him the others. The others are always blank faced soldiers in this nightmare, but you know who is who. You pat his shoulder, aimming over him as you walk down the hall close together, hugging the wall. You’ve been through this so many times, you know to eye the floor and you watch the moment happen—Ghost steps on a pressure plate and—BOOM.

You’re always forced to watch it in slow motion; the wall being blown open right next to Ghost, watching the debris scatter everywhere, scraping yourself up as well as Ghost. He raises his arm to shield his face from whatever is happening, unable to process in time that a man wielding a sharp combat knife is pulling his arm back and comes down with it.

You watch the way the knife so easily slides into his rib cage, and it’s almost like you could hear it penetrating his lung like it did—but this time, the man rips the knife out and does it again and again and again—this has never happened before—Ghost’s falling to the ground, his blood splattering everywhere, fuck, it’s like the guy is trying to gut him—but you can’t move. You have to sit there and watch this man. plunge a knife in and out of Ghost’s chest until he finally decides to stab him deep and yank downwards, spilling his intestines and stomach—yet, his lifeless eyes keep eye contact the entire time.

Your eyes fly open, dizzy from your heart pounding and unable to focus, you throw the blanket off of you and you make your way out of whatever room you’re in—you’re too freaked out to know. Your chest aches and feels like there’s a hundred tons sitting on your rib cage, restricting your breathing. You keep walking until you bump into something and you manage to focus enough to notice it’s the bathroom door. Your hand shakily grabs the doorknob and opens it, and you already feel the vomit traveling up your throat.

You end up bent over the open toilet, body heaving with every exile of the contents of your stomach, which by this time of night is mostly just bile. Your head is spinning and your hands keep shaking and by this point, you really don’t care how clean this bathroom is. You lean your elbows on the toilet rim and hold your head in your hands, trying your best to stifle a sob, even though all you can smell and feel is his blood on your fingertips. Your tears drip down your cheeks and collect at your chin before dripping off.

You keep one arm on the toilet seat to keep your head propped up and the other goes around your stomach, which is twisting painfully inside of your gut, ripping another sob from you. You gag into the toilet, but you’ve already thrown everything you had inside. Your throat and nose burns from the stomach acid, but it doesn’t compare to the emotional pain of losing Ghost. You just stood there and watched him get gutted—why do you deserve to grieve when you could have prevented it in the first place? Someone killed the Ghost, and you let it fucking happen.

A large hand sprawls across the flat of your back which is accompanied by a low, gritty voice. Whoever it is says something, but you don’t quite hear them. It’s probably Price, trying to comfort you, trying to say there’s one thing you could’ve done to stop it, but you know there was something you could do, anything you could’ve done.

Price calls your name and you go to shove him away, but his hands wrap around your wrists, and the voice is more insistent. You choke on a sob and shake your head, struggling against him until you hear it—his voice. “Fuck, [Name], can you hear me?” Ghost’s voice. It’s his voice.

No. Your mind is playing tricks on you and you won’t fall for it, you won’t let yourself go through this horrendous grief for a second time. You try to curl up into a ball, wanting to grab at your hair or your clothes, just anything but be here. “Look at me.” His hands grab your face and force your face to look at him and..

It’s him. It’s Ghost.

All of your noises stop for a moment as you stare with wide eyes that are full of unfallen tears, eyes full of grief, all for him. Ghost stares back at you with uncharacteristically wide eyes, and you can see the way his hands are slightly trembling—he’s worried about you. Ghost’s eyebrows furrow when he sees your expression of anguish. “Hey—hey, what happened?” Ghost’s voice is so quiet, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks any louder. Your hands come up to his mask and touch it and you burst into a harsh sob again, throwing your arms around him.

Usually, Ghost would hesitate. He would be reluctant to reciprocate such personal touch, such desperation, but he pulls you close into his arms without a second thought. Your hands grab his shirt and you breakdown into his chest, wetting the fabric with your tears. His heart slipped a beat because he’s never seen you like this—has never seen you break down this horribly.

He’d be here when you were ready to talk about it, but for now he’ll stay to hold you until your shoulders stop shaking. Ghost moves to sit on his bottom and you whimper in fear, like he’ll leave. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

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ode2rin · 8 months

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it has become an awful pattern of habit how much itoshi sae always shows up at your doorstep only when he wants to.

“don’t go out with oliver.”

and here he was again, like a recurring relapse that happens every single time you thought you’re doing better. the kind that hits when you think you're finally making progress, that momentary flicker of doing better before it all crumbles.

and you were. you’re doing good, doing better, but god, does it hurt like hell when he pulls stunts like this.

it was a relentless tug-of-war, a game he played so unfairly, leaving you with no rules, no defenses. you were damn sick of it.

“really?” the word escaped as a scoff, a blend of disbelief and irritation coating your voice. “you're showing up to my place at this hour just to say that?”

a drawn-out exhale left sae's lips at your reaction, the scent of alcohol accompanying it—a scent foreign to the sae you'd known. was he drinking? itoshi sae doesn’t drink – or at least the sae you knew would never let a single drop of alcohol taint his flesh.

“just don’t. he’ll hurt you.”

a bitter laugh escaped you, “you're one to talk about hurting people, aren't you?”

if you didn't know better, you'd mistake the look he shot you for something resembling an apology mixed with regret. but no, you knew that those eyes can never hold such, not for you, not for anyone.

“news flash, itoshi. you don’t have the right to decide who i can or cannot go out with.”

“don’t i?”

his challenge lingered in the air, a question not constrained by words but driven by conflicting wills, a daring meeting of gazes that had been evaded until now.

you're so fucking unfair, itoshi sae.

“leave,” you spat, your grip on the doorknob tightened, fingers almost digging into the cool metal.

“don’t i, y/n? do i not have a right to you?”

“please, sae. just go,” you murmured, eyes squeezed shut, a trace of tears threatening to break free.

“— because you have all damn rights to me that it fucking terrifies me.”

and there it was.

the vulnerability he so fiercely and stubbornly concealed, laid bare for you to witness. it slipped out like an admission, raw and unguarded.

sae's insides churned as your gaze bore into him, the intensity of it feeling like a searing heat that left him exposed, his thoughts laid bare. it was as if you were looking at him as if he had grown a second head, an incredulity mirrored in his own disbelief at what he had just blurted.

but it’s the truth, a truth etched not in alcohol-induced haze but in the sobering clarity that you, ever loving you, terrified him.

“you– you terrify me," his words stumbled out, like he was admitting a secret he never meant to reveal. “you’re the first thought that comes to my mind, and the last one before i sleep. i feel you everywhere, your presence, your absence — it terrifies me, y/n.”

he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration that echoed the inner chaos he couldn't quite contain. the sting of alcohol just added to the jumble of thoughts, like mixing a cocktail of emotions he wasn't prepared to deal with.

sae had never been great with handling drinks, and here he was, wearing his heart on his sleeve, a little more vulnerable than he’d intended.

after all, a body so foreign to alcohol can only handle so much.

and it's ironic how that also applies to sae's acceptance of your love – like a liquor he's not used to, but still very much would like a taste.

he knew he had absolutely no right to show up here; he had no right to stop you from going out with another man; he had no right to claim a part of you, not after he shattered your heart because he was afraid of his own.

he knew that, but itoshi sae is selfish. he wanted you, terrifyingly so. he hoped — prayed, even—no one will ever have you the same way he does.

and he meant that in the most selfish way possible. because, time and time again, itoshi sae was selfish, even more so when it came to loving you.

“it terrifies me,” he carried on, a touch firmer this time, his gaze unyielding as it held yours, “how much you consume me, and it frightens me even more how much i would let you.”

“then just let me, you stupid asshole.”

the words burst out of you, a declaration that felt like a leap of faith. your arms instinctively reached out, embracing him as if to underscore your determination. you had caught his confession like a lifeline, and now it was your turn to throw your heart into the mix.

“and you have all the damn rights to me too,” you murmured against his lips.

the truth is, he doesn't deserve you, not in the slightest. but god, you want him to— so bad. and after hearing what he said, you knew he wanted the same thing too.

you wrap your arms tighter around him, and it's like fitting together two missing pieces. you missed this, missed him. no amount of trying will ever relieve the longing. because truth be told, hearts aren't great at playing hide and seek; that much can be seen from the way you’re both holding on to each other.

“i'll love you slowly, until it's not scary, until you get used to it,” you whispered, forehead pressed against his.

in the quiet space between your whispered words, sae felt the world shift beneath his feet.

love with you wasn't meant to be frightening. love with you wasn't meant to be all-consuming.

love with you, he realized, only needed to be exactly like this— your fingers against his nape, a smile curving your lips, and the assurance in your gaze that promised better times ahead.

“i’ll get used to it.” maybe the words came off wobbly, but he couldn’t care any less now; it was a promise.

“you better.” you let out a chuckle, genuine this time, and it took just one chuckle for sae to realize that everything will be just fine.

[extra]:

“sae?”

you pull his attention, sensing his wakefulness from the lingering kisses he peppers on your skin. the same man who laid bare his heart to you was sprawled within your sheets, his breathing gentle against your neck.

though his lips stay sealed, the comforting squeeze of your hand relays that he was listening.

“where did you hear that i’m going out with oliver?”

a brief pause, followed by a scoff. way to ruin a moment, sae’s inner voice grumbles at the timing of your question. why bring up another guy's name now, especially when he's shirtless and right above you? the nerve.

“doesn’t matter.” he dismisses your question.

yet, there's something oddly satisfying about riling up the usually composed sae, it’s one of your life’s greatest pleasures. and so, you press on, unable to resist the urge to tease.

“come on, now. i want to know what made my cold and grumpy sae to show up at my door at 2 am, professing that i terrify him,” you pushed, meeting his irritated glare with an arched brow. “— and don’t give me that look. those were your words, not mine!”

tch. he clicks his tongue, fully aware you won't let him live down his confession. “got it from shidou. he told me right before asking me to drink with him.”

as those words escape sae’s lips, you burst into laughter, leaving him to wonder if he broke you with last night's late-night affection.

“what’s so funny?” he raises an eyebrow at your sudden outburst.

“shidou tricked you into drinking with him, love. i turned down oliver without a second thought. we didn't even get close to going on a date,” you playfully reveal, your grin growing. “i kind of mentioned that to shidou. we share gossip occasionally, you know.”

sae froze at what you said, and he didn’t need no damn mirror to see that he was turning red from the embarrassment and realization that he had been lured to drink.

“i’ll kill him.”

“and i’ll thank him.” may shidou get all the dopamine he so cunningly desires.

note. i also don't know what this is so don't look at me now :P i'm throwing tomatoes at myself

#☁️ my ode to you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae angst #blue lock angst

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balletfilmss · 1 month

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SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX!

✸ pairing: jason grace x fem!aphrodite!reader

✸ summary: it’s not your fault that your sister’s ex boyfriend is so stuck in your head that you can think of little else but him

✸ warnings: intense makeout but nothing more

✸ a/n: ik we’re all tired of the aphrodite reader, but it’s essential to the plot 🥲 anyways, justice for my man jason, he needs more fics

You shouldn’t have been thinking about your sister’s ex boyfriend so much, and especially not like this.

Piper and Jason broke up two months ago and had both well since moved on. No hard feelings involved, just a little resolution that they were better off as friends.

It wasn’t a big deal. Really, it wasn’t.

You shouldn’t have felt so bad about how much you thought about him. He was just so captivating, so beautiful. You remembered every detail Piper had ever told you about him as well as every one you had learned on your own.

The curve of his lips and the pale scar scored through them. The flex of his muscles when he trained. Those glasses that made him look unfairly attractive.

Gods, it made you so upset that you weren’t supposed to be thinking about him like this, obsessing over the fact that you couldn’t have him.

Maybe Piper wouldn’t care. Or maybe, she’d be inflamed by the fact that you’d gotten with her ex boyfriend, friendly breakup or not. There was probably some girl code about this, right?

There definitely was, and your sisters would probably have your head if they knew you were busy breaking it.

You tried your best to stay away from Jason, you really did. If you just kept your distance, you could harbor the obsession in your own mind, keep it to yourself.

But of course, the son of Jupiter just had to notice it. Notice your distance. Notice you.

It was his fault, really, what was happening. He was the one who had approached you at the campfire, his mind set on getting an answer as to why you were trying to avoid him.

He was the one who’d followed you back to the cabins when you took off. He was the one who provoked you first.

It wasn’t your fault that everything just came spilling out. All your feelings and secrets, pretty much everything short of your guts, spewed from your mouth when you just couldn’t take the questions anymore.

This was going to hurt, you knew it would. You were prepared. And maybe, you wanted to get a little hurt.

But what you weren’t prepared for was that maybe, Jason Grace was just as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it!” You had confessed, standing in front of the door to Cabin Ten. “You drive me absolutely crazy, Jay. And I’m probably just embarrassing myself, but you wanted an answer and this is it.”

Jason looked at your face and then down at the wrist he’d caught to stop you from going inside your cabin and that he was still holding onto. His skin was hot. His head was spinning.

He was standing really close to you. You let out a deep breath, preparing for a rejection that would be embarrassing as hell.

“Who says you shouldn’t?” He breathed out the question, a tempting little smile on his lips.

You looked at his lips. He looked at yours. You went for it.

You grabbed his forearm of the hand still holding onto you and yanked him forward. In a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your lips against his.

He responded immediately, hands gripping onto the sides of your waist as his lips mashed against yours feverishly.

You skin was alive with delight, your head buzzing with excitement.

You stumbled backwards and grabbed onto the doorknob behind you, the boy following blindly after you. You twisted it with one hand, pulling him closer to you by his arm with the other.

Nobody was inside, they were all still at the campfire and should be for another good hour.

You made your way inside somehow, hardly pulling yourself away from his captivity. On the other side of the cracked door, you looked up at him, a moment of hesitation.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked as you caught your breath, which mixed together with his.

“You think so?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss to your wet lips. Moonlight filtered in through the cabin windows and covered him in a beautiful glow.

“I don’t know,” you answered. Looking at him, nothing seemed like a bad idea. You knew he’d slept on the opposite side of one of these beds as Piper, you knew he’d once maybe loved her.

You knew all of that. He did too. But still, you couldn’t help it.

“Well I do. I know.” He said. The hand he had on you slid up your arm and over your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Damn son of Jupiter and his electricity.

He rested it against your cheek, warm and tingly against your skin. He stared at you like maybe he wanted to risk getting hurt too.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for weeks.” He confessed, his voice husk. He trailed his other hand up your arm until it mirrored his other, now holding your face between his hands. You thought you just might die on the spot.

“Still think this is a bad idea?” He asked, face so close to yours that you could almost taste him again.

Even if it was a bad idea, it’d be fine.

“Not at all.”

He pulled you in this time. He held one hand on the side of your neck, the other on your face, and kissed you with ferocity.

You let him push you back until your back hit the door, closing it fully with a satisfying click.

You pushed your lips against his hard. No amount of close was close enough. You felt dizzy, lightheaded with bliss.

Your hands slid down his abdomen to the hem of his shirt and then, underneath. Your fingers pressed against his skin, sending shivers up his spine.

You could feel a smile tug at his lips as they moved methodically with yours, right beside where his scar was.

You’d always thought about what it might feel like, and now, you were rhapsodic that you had found out.

He forced his lips away from yours and began trailing sloppy little kisses from the corner of your mouth and across your jaw, lower and lower until his lips slotted against your neck.

You tilted your head back to assist, give him more room to roam. When it knocked against the wood behind it, he brought his hand up behind your head, carefully putting a barrier between you and the door.

He moved further down your collar bone, teeth and tongue and lips all heavenly against your skin.

One particular nip provoked a gasp from you, and your nails dug into the flesh of his abdomen, leaving little crescent shapes that would be there in the morning to remind him.

No sooner did you hear voices. Outside, there were footsteps crunching against the grass and the sound of voices as campers returned from the campfire. The one time they end early.

“Jase,” you sighed, your hands crawling out from underneath his shirt, much to your dismay. “People are coming.”

He pulled away from you, looking at you with disheveled hair, swollen lips, and beautiful as ever. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, smiling at the fact he had been allowed to lay hands on you.

“You kicking me out?” He asked teasingly, voice low and insanely attractive so that it was such a shame he couldn’t stay.

“I dunno, do you want to get caught?”

“Hmm, maybe next time.”

You suppressed a smile as you pushed him towards the window at the back of the cabin. “Next time?”

“Yep,” he quipped, pushing open the glass pane and letting in the summer air. It was almost like he’d done it before. “None negotiable. You’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

You breathed out a laugh as he ducked down towards the window. “Get out.”

The doorknob to the cabin twisted, and Jason pressed a chaste kiss to your head, whispered to you a goodnight, and then he was gone.

You could hear his feet hit the grass as the door swung open and in walked Piper and Drew.

“What was that?” Piper asked as you quickly slammed window shut.

“Nothing.”

#୨୧ love letters #jason grace #jason grace x fem!reader #jasongrace #jason grace imagine #jason grace imagines #jason grace x reader #jason grace smut #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #hoo x you #jason grace x aphrodite reader

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victoria-grimesss · 9 months

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tear you apart - part I

masterlist

->Pairing: König x fem!reader

->Words: 2.2k

->Warning: sexual thoughts, use of Y/N, close proximity, and tension, eventual smut

->Summary: König is kinda mean, dark and a little possessive but it’s all in good fun! A new girl catches the colonel's eyes, and he won’t let her go. Inspired by my favorite song Tear you Apart by She Wants Revenge.

->A/N: please let me know what ya’ll think, this is my first time writing anything spicy so im open to feedback. Also my requests are always open :)

The base is cold as it should be at this time of year, you transferred from the states to the Austrian KorTac base against your own wishes, you are a specialized stealth agent that the higher ups thought could be a valued member to the KorTac team. Wishing to be back in the sun but alas your new skies are clouded and mean.

It is what it is, you thought to yourself, lacing your boots, and emerging from your room. It’s always a weird adjustment process when you transfer to a new base, learning the way around like learning a new maze each time. The people were friendly enough although you didn’t know if it was because you were a new soldier or just because you were a new pretty face around that hadn’t heard any rumors about the seedy guys and their proclivities.

Altogether you have heard one rumor,

One big, tall, menacing rumor.

König

“The king”

Curiosity killed the cat and God help you, all you wanted was to know if what they said was true. Before you left for transfer you heard whispers when they found out where you were going.

“She’ll be miserable under his watch.”

“He’ll have her running laps and doing reps the first day for sure.”

“He’ll eat her alive.”

Did these whispers make her shiver? Yes

Did these whispers make her restless? Yes

Did these whispers make her ache in anticipation? Absolutely.

It’s been a long while since the last body occupied her bed, a touch a century ago, a kiss eons ago. All these fairy tales about this big, tall strong man that could throw her two football fields didn’t help her desperation at all.

She knew these thoughts weren’t appropriate, sleeping with a superior was frowned upon. He was probably married and happy, men like that don’t stay on the market for long. And from the stories she heard she obviously has no shot with him.

She rounded a corner from the barracks and exited to the outside courtyard, the air nipping at her skin. Dark clouds looms and the trees are barren of leaves ready for life anew. Approaching the main building the smell of sweat and metal entered her nose making way to the meeting room.

——

The debriefing was the same as all the others, the captain explaining what to do and who goes where. She nearly fell asleep until the doorknob turned, that’s weird, usually people don’t barge into these things halfway through… unless they’re king of the castle.

He enters the room, his aura dominating those around him. His stature is something to behold, well over six feet of pure muscle. He could break me over his knee like a glowstick and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it…

He stalks into the room greeting the captain, his voice it deep and dark and you want to hear more of it.

His gear makes him all that bulkier, his mask concealing his face and yea, if I were the enemy and I saw him running towards me I would definitely shit my pants.

He stands at the front of the room observing everyone in it and maintaining concentration on the presentation the captain is giving for the next mission. You try your hardest to maintain the same concentration but he’s just so tall and all the rumors are true he’s an enigma. You find your eyes drinking him in, from his shoes to the metal plates on his shins, to his..oh god… his broad broad shoulders. You imagine taking your hands and tracing over them feeling the thick muscles underneath his war-torn skin as you bring your hands lower-

He shifts in place.

Your eyes quickly dart away then to his eyes, his eyes locked on yours like a predator watching his prey.

You immediately break into a sweat, his eyes like a spotlight and they don’t move from you.

You look again to see if he’s still looking, he tilts his head a bit to the side and raises an eyebrow teasingly. Shit. oh no he’s hot. Like really hot.

Shifting in your seat, nervous beads of sweat dripping down your neck, the meeting is coming to a close and people start tucking in their chairs. König is still standing by the door, his eyes still locked on yours, I wonder what he’s thinking. I mean, surely if he’s a married man he wouldn’t be looking at me so hard….right? Maybe no one told him you were transferring so he’s just confused on who the fuck is this new girl in here I didn’t approve this. By now most of everyone has left the room, the projector is turned off, the map put away, the captain gone. You move your gaze to the floor and get up and tuck in your chair, clearing your throat, now realizing how eerily quiet the room is and you haven’t heard König make a noise since he greeted the captain. You make your way to the door, preparing to walk by him and out of the room.

An arm shoots out to block the doorway and you are forced to stop dead in your tracks keeping your eyes dead set on the long dark hallway in front of you.

“Your name soldier.” He barks, his voice smooth and dark like black coffee. The sweat beads up again and you know for a fact your face is growing hot.

“Y/N, sir.” You straighten your back and maintain my straight state.

He leans down. You can tell he’s looking at you and you raise your eyes to meet his and your heart is racing a million miles an hour and nerves are on fire you breath is uneven and you know he knows, I mean who wouldn’t be uneasy this close to him.

“I-I’m the transfer from the states sir, from the stealth unit.”

“I know who you are hübsches Mädchen, read your file. Approved your transfer myself.”

He replied, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s even more intimidating this close but something deep within you wants to reach out to him and quell this thirst for his touch.

“I appreciate you thinking me worthy to serve on this team, I won’t let you down.” You affirm with the little strength you have left. His gaze is piercing but intoxicating all the same.

He removes his hand slowly from the doorframe and straightens his back standing at his full height again. His begins again,

“Training at 0700 tomorrow morning be there, I’d like to see you demonstrate some maneuvers see if you need any additional training. I will be watching closely, do not disappoint me.” His arms are crossed now and he’s even larger than before.

“Yes, of course sir, I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it.” His tone is light now, maybe even teasing.

You swear you saw him wink but maybe it was just the lighting and how it hit his mask.

“Well run along kleiner Hase; you need your beauty sleep after all.” He motions to the hallway and you take quick steps back to your room, cheeks still hot and breath still quick. It was going to be difficult to have him as your commanding officer.

——

Sleep didn’t come easy, tossing and turning and thinking about the way König devoured you with his eyes made you sweat and frankly being that close to him and replaying that moment over and over again didn’t help with your insomnia. You thought of him a lot that night, more than once, enough to make your hand cramp up. By the time it was daylight you were running off 4 hours of sleep and a large coffee you picked up from the mess hall. You trudged your way over to the main building again where the gym and training room was, once again passing through the courtyard.

The trees are still barren, and you almost slip on the sleet left on the pathway cursing to yourself and hoping to god no one saw.

The gym smells musty, the air vents clearly working overtime since the gym has some activity. A couple groups of pairs work on sparing on the far side and others work out alone. You walk over to the mats and stand to the side watching the two pairs fight for the upper hand, takedown training great, you knew how to do it most of the time on missions you were equipped with a silenced pistol and other quieter tools. Stealth takedowns are your forte but it can’t hurts to get more practice with face to face takedowns.

The fight with the two are done and you were too busy thinking to hear your voice being called.”

“Sergeant L/N!, to the mat.” König barked, his authority shaking the ground, not the best first impression on training day.

You apologize quickly and step onto the mat, your opponent being someone a bit taller than you but not by much, a weight to weight equal, should be easy enough.

König’s eyes watch you as you grapple with the opponent twisting his arm and throwing him over your shoulder onto the mat, you brace your knee on his neck and apply a small amount of pressure, the opponent taps out. He won’t lie, König felt his pants get tight from seeing you work so effectively. Your work is certainly good, he won’t lie, taking down someone so easily.

“Again, another.” He barks once more, his accent thick.

You take down another three opponents, you clearly are growing restless from the muscle exertion and signal to take a break. König watches with amusement.

“A break? What if this was real combat kleiner Hase, will you beg your advisories to adjourn their dissatisfaction for you? Beg them for a time out?” By now he’s stepped onto the mat with you, today he’s shed the outer layer of his gear just wearing his mask and usual military uniform, he still looks just as hot.

“There’s no time for breaks out there as you know, and when you come up with a larger enemy you must be able to take them down as well.”

Fuck.

He wants you to take HIM down, your muscles are already weak from the last three fights he surly knows you’ve exerted yourself right? Right?!

“Go on schatz, I’ll let you make the first move.” His voice has an edge of teasing to it and you want to rip off his mask and see the smirk you know he’s displaying.

You huff

“Very well sir.”

You move to grapple his middle trying to take out his legs, he’s sturdy like a tree and you think if you can take out his legs he’ll go down like one. He budges only slightly when you hit on a pressure point and just when he’s moving and you think you’ve gain the upper hand he sweeps your legs from underneath you and has you pinned. Your wrists are bound by one of his hands above you head and he’s got both of his very thick thighs straddling you.

Your face grows hot at your defeat, especially all your other coworkers seeing it too. But it burns even hotter when he comes down close to your ear and whispers to you,

“You look very pretty underneath me schatz, so pretty when you are short of breath.” He laughs, that bastard.

You can’t admit it but your panties grow damp at his words and your body is on fire, although to those around you it just looks like you’ve over exerted yourself with a tad too much training.

König stand, his height from down here is astonishing. He reaches a hand down and lifts you to your feet but he’s so strong you accidentally collide with his chest before taking a quick step back. You mumble an apology.

“You fight well L/N, no doubt you will be a fine addition to this team. Although you will need to know how to take down large adversaries so I can help you with additional training of course.”

He holds his hand for you to shake it and you meet him halfway, his large hand grips yours and you get a flashback to feeling it wrapped tightly around your wrists, you shiver.

König’s gaze casts down upon you, no woman has yet to capture his attention the way you have. Many have tried. Thrown themselves at him in an unsavory manner, but you, oh you’re different. He admires the way you speak to him, although not many words have been exchanged between the two of you he prays there are more.

Your hair, your eyes, your body, all of it has entranced him and the moment he laid eyes on you, the others know. The way his gaze is steady and dark on you the others know you’re off limits. He yearns to learn more of you, to hear of your history as he strips your clothes off one article at a time under the dim lights of his office. He must be patient though. You are like a deer, scared in the spotlight and he must not spook you, he stands still until you come to him. For now he stares.

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ladylannisterxo · 2 years

Text

Flannel and Lace

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 1.9k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot

Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.

A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!

{ masterlist }

You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.

He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.

But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.

“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.

Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.

“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.

That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.

“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”

“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.

“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.

“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.

You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.

“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”

Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.

“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”

“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”

Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.

“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.

Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.

“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”

You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.

Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.

Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.

“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.

Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.

Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”

“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

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hihhasotherfixations · 4 months

Text

Cheating - Price x Reader NSFW

When you find your boyfriend cheating on you, you look for refuge in your captain’s arms.

CW: fem!reader, unprotected p in v, cheating

Word Count: 6280

If you said you didn’t expect your evening to go like this, it was an understatement.

Standing in the doorway to your bedroom, your eyes were locked on the bodies moving under the sheets.

Your boyfriend, the man you had been with for the last 2 years, lay in your shared bed on top of his coworker.

With every movement, the raggedy bed creaked, their lower halves covered by the blanket - though the thin material did nothing to hide what was going on underneath, his hips vigorously thrusting while the woman moaned - the two of them completely in their own world.

After two months out in the field, you’d finally returned from deployment, coming back a week early even. And now here you stood, watching the man who supposedly loved you fucking another woman.

It was like you were frozen. Every cel in your body wanted you to run, disgust curling through your stomach, and yet you couldn’t move. You just stood there, nauseous as you watched.

And what was even worse; the woman (though you recognised her, you couldn’t remember her name) was wearing a blindfold. Your blindfold. Your shitty excuse of a boyfriend couldn’t even have the decency to buy her separate stuff.

That thought, that rage, was enough to get you moving as you stormed over, yanking the blanket back, causing both parties on the bed to gasp.

“You absolute asshole!” You yelled, slamming your army bag into your boyfriend’s side, successfully breaking the two apart and causing him to nearly topple off the bed.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked, the colour draining from his flushed face as he looked at you, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there. Home. “You’re early…”

The woman, hearing everything, scrambled back on the bed, pushing the blindfold up to be able to see, her eyes settling on you.

Immediately, a guilty look overtook her features but you couldn’t be bothered to give her another second as you glared at your boyfriend instead.

“Look, baby…” He tried but you instantly shut him up with just a hand gesture, seething.

Standing there in your army uniform, with your naked lover and his affair partner in front of you, you were simply at a loss for words.

A part of you wanted to grab him, throw him, hurt him - do everything you were ever taught when it came to fighting - but you decided against it. He wasn’t worth a possible assault charge.

So instead, you took a step back while your emotions raged inside you. “We’re done.” With that, you turned around and walked out.

“Y/N, wait!” Your boyfriend called out, scrambling to cover himself before he ran after you but by that point you’d already reached the front door, glaring back at him before you slammed the door right in his face and locked it.

Immediately, the doorknob started to jiggle before you heard a muffled curse.

With tears in your eyes, you looked down at the two keys in your hand. You’d purposely taken his as well, locking him inside.

Sniffling, you just dropped his keys on the doorstep, leaving him to figure out how he’d get out and get them as you then proceeded to walk away and to your car, needing to just get away.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, rain started up.

Within 20 seconds it was pouring down and you ran along the street to your car.

Your usual parking spot in front of your apartment wasn’t free, which is why you’d had to park an entire block away. Now you knew why.

By the time you reached your car and jumped in, you were soaked to the bone. Droplets splattered satisfyingly on the windshield of your car while you threw your duffel bag to the backseat, letting your head fall back against the seat as you covered your face with your hands.

Within ten minutes, everything had gone to shit.

The relationship you’d been so secure in was a sham. The guys had always joked you were smitten whenever you mentioned your boyfriend; Ghost playfully complaining and Soap making crude jokes whenever he could while Gaz would nudge you. It had all been fun then. As you sat here now however, it wasn’t.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone - only moderately damp - and scrolled through your contacts with tears in your eyes.

You needed someone, you needed someplace to stay even. But you knew your best friend would ask a million questions before going on a warpath, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to explain it to the teasing triad, seeing their jokes turn into sympathy.

That left one person. Captain Price.

Sniffling, you let out a shaky breath before scrolling through your contacts. Last time you’d contacted him outside of work was to ask him for what he wanted as a birthday gift. That wasn’t to say you didn’t speak with the man or had a bad relationship, no, the complete opposite even. When not out in the field giving orders, he was kind, supportive, understanding and funny even. And most of all, he left you be in your relationship without meddling like the others.

So, without much of a thought, you typed up a message.

‘Hey, cap.

Due to some circumstances I need a place to sleep. Could I crash at your place?’

It was vague and probably a stupid way to ask but at the moment you couldn’t muster up the energy to care - all of said energy going into the effort to not cry over the piece of shit your ex-boyfriend was.

Faster than you expected, your message turned to being read as you saw the indication he was replying pop up.

‘Without question.

You know the address?’

Sniffling, you wiped your nose with the back of your hand and smiled at your phone. Typing a quick ‘yes’, you then got another message.

‘Good. Drive safe in this weather.’

For some reason, just that was enough to make your emotions spill over the wall you’d shoddily built and you began to cry while putting your phone down and starting the ignition.

Putting your captain’s address in your car’s navigation took a bit longer because of it, though the added benefit was that your cries quietened enough for you to drive by the time you’d managed to get it on.

Despite Price’s text, you drove without much care, the windshield wipers doing overtime in the pouring rain as thunder started to rumble.

Beside you, your phone started to light up with texts and calls, your boyfriend trying to contact you though you ignored them.

Within twenty minutes, you reached Price’s house and you parked your car right in front of his door. His own was sitting neatly in the driveway, leaving room for you on the street.

Wiping your tears away one last time, you composed yourself as much as you could before grabbing your bag and phone, taking your keys out of the ignition before you got out of the car and began rushing to Price’s home.

Looking up, the door was already open with Price standing beside it, beckoning you inside.

The moment you did, he closed the door, shutting out the rain and thunder right as a lightning flash in the clouds lit up the dark outside.

“Bloody hell.” Price remarked as he then took a step back and took you in, scanning you from head to toe.

Standing there, dripping wet, you guiltily stepped back until you were standing on the ‘welcome’ mat by the door, not wanting to drip water into his wooden floor. “Sorry to barge in.” You spoke softly but at that point, Price had already clocked the puffiness of your eyes and congestion of your nose, clear indicators you’d been crying.

“Here, let me.” He spoke as he took your bag from you, setting it down on the floor next to his own. Because of course, he’d only just gotten home as well. He stood before you in jeans and a shirt, but you figured he didn’t have much time to change into that before you’d already contacted him.

“I… uhm-“ You started, wanting to offer some sort of excuse or explanation but Price stopped you with a shake of his head.

“We need to get you dry first.” He spoke, a hint of his trademark authority in his voice. “Take off your shoes and follow me. I’m not letting you put on a dirty uniform, so you can borrow from me for the time being.” He spoke, nudging at your duffle bag with his sock-clad foot to emphasise what he meant.

Simply nodding, you bent down, cringing at the feeling of your wet clothes moving with you as you untied your boots. Though you’d worn this uniform while wet plenty of times, that didn’t mean it was ever nice.

Once your shoes were off, you stood back up straight and Price motioned for you to follow him.

Doing just that, you stepped from his entrance hall out into the living room, seeing the comfortable couch to the left that you and the team had spent many a night drinking on whenever your captain hosted an evening in together.

“Y/N.”

Snapped out of your reverie, you looked up to see Price standing to the right, at the bottom of the stairs leading upwards.

“Sorry.” You mumbled but Price just waved it off, beckoning you to follow him.

When you did, he started ascending the stairs, leading you to a room at the far end of the hallway, opening it to reveal what seemed to be his own bedroom.

“I don’t have a lot of choice of clothes for you unfortunately, my apologies.” He hummed, walking over to a drawer cabinet as he opened the bottom drawer, revealing pants.

Taking out a pair of sweatpants, he handed it to you before opening the second most top drawer, grabbing a random black long-sleeve shirt from the bottom of the pile to give to you as well.

“I think those would fit best.” He hummed before his eyes trailed down, lingering on your hips as he then slightly pursed his lips. “Do you think you need uh…” He started, hesitating to actually say it, though you quickly picked up on it.

“Oh, no. I’m not that wet, thankfully.” You quickly said, holding up the pants and shirt he gave. “These are fine, thank you. I’ll just go change in the toilet downstairs.” You spoke, feeling awkward and a little skittish and suddenly, Price’s hand was covering yours, warm and calm.

“You can change in the bathroom next door. There’s a warm towel there too which you can use.” He spoke, his voice suddenly calm and reassuring, almost soothing.

And it was embarrassing how much it helped to calm your nerves. But then again, maybe it was an instinct weened into you given your captain always was the voice of reason and calm on the battlefield. That’s what you told yourself at least.

Walking into the bathroom with the clothes in your arms, you gently shut the door behind you, letting out a shuddering breath as you leaned back into it, closing your eyes.

I the span of an half an hour, everything was flipped upside down and even if you’d already broken down, it didn’t feel like you’d truly processed what had happened.

Just shaking the thoughts off for now, you decided to change, getting into the sweatpants and tightening the draw string around your hips before switching shirts as well, adjusting the clothing where necessary.

Once done with that, you looked around to see a white towel hanging next to a grey one on a heated rack. Reaching out, you ran your hands over it, feeling the grey one damp - most likely used by Price to take a shower earlier when he got home. Moving over to the white one, you grabbed it, pleasantly surprised by the warmth and softness of it.

Using it to dry your hair, you were soon done and politely hung the towel back on the rack, making your way out of the bathroom after.

Moving downstairs, you heard the sound of a kettle whistling, making a small smile form on your face, knowing how proud your captain was of his kettle, passed down to him by his late mother.

Coming off the stairs, you saw Price by the kitchen counter, busying himself with pouring two cups of tea.

“Thank you for letting me borrow these.” You spoke softly, catching Price’s attention who looked up at you and smiled.

“Not a problem, love.” He hummed, making you blink at the nickname. “Come with me to the couch.” He beckoned before picking up the mugs, taking the lead.

Following him, you gingerly sat beside him while he placed your mug on a coaster, for which you softly thanked him.

“What’s going on then?” He asked after a moment, turning his body to you.

Looking over at the man, instead of the stern look you expected - one you’d seen plenty of times when reprimanded during training - his face was soft, a worry line on his forehead and his eyes slightly creased. Concern.

“I, uhm.” You mumbled, reaching out to grab the mug of tea as you cradled it, revelling in the warmth as it warmed your chilly bones.

“Take your time.”

It was the way he spoke it. Soft and in a whisper, a care shining through that broke you, causing tears to rapidly fill your eyes.

Seeing that, Price shifted closer, placing a comforting hand on your leg as he squeezed.

“I found my boyfriend, uhm-“ You started, taking in a shaky breath, trying so hard not to cry, trying to stay composed. “With another woman.”

Your voice cracked and diluted into a whisper near the end as you hid behind the mug, feeling pathetic.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Price breathed out, moving closer until his hip was pressed to yours, his right hand slinging over your shoulders while his left carefully took the time to put the tea back down. Wasting not a second after, he pulled you into himself.

Being so suddenly pulled into a hug, your face screwed up and you started crying all over, your breaths small and fast and your sobs pained.

“It’s okay.” Price soothed, holding you tightly.

Slowly, you curled your arms around his waist, crying into his shirt. “He was just there, doing it in our bed.” You cried and Price gently held you, rubbing your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He spoke softly, almost muttering into your hair and you nodded, trying to believe it as you felt yourself melt into his warmth and the comfort he brought.

“I broke up with him on- on the spot.” You sniffled, not wanting to sob in front of the man you looked up to. “He tried to run after me.”

“But he didn’t?” Price asked, a little confused but you shook your head no.

“I locked him inside the house.”

At that, a small, baffled laugh escaped the brunet. “You locked him inside? That’s my girl.” He grinned, pulling you in tighter as he rubbed your back again.

Just then however, his eyes landed on your pocket, his smile replaced by a frown.

“Your phone keeps going off.”

Sniffling, you wiped your nose and looked at your pocket. Though you kept feeling the thing buzzing in your pants, you were too far in your head to register it. Now however, you remembered and reached into the pocket, pulling your phone out.

Unsurprisingly, your boyfriend’s contact was displayed on the screen. You’d lost count of the amount of messages and missed calls.

“He’s been trying all night.” You muttered, making the brunet frown.

“All night? Even despite-? You should turn it off, love.” He spoke while the both of you watched the call go to voicemail.

“I can just ignore it.” You sniffled, trying to wipe your eyes. Yet right then, his contact came onto the screen again as he once more called.

While you were ready to ignore however, Price wasn’t as inclined. “Can I?” He questioned, holding out his hand for your phone.

Shrugging you handed it over.

Gently taking it from you, the man turned the screen towards himself. Glaring at it and the contact on it, Price suddenly swiped the green button, answering the call and making your heart lurch into your throat.

“Y/N, I-“

“Listen, mate, you need to stop.” Price interrupted, making your boyfriend halt in his steps.

“Who are you?”

Because your face was pressed to Price’s chest, you could hear every word your boyfriend said, even if a little quiet.

“You think that’s the most important thing right now?” Price scoffed in answer. “You need to stop texting and calling, you’re hurting her.”

“I’ll do as I please, it’s my girlfriend, dude. Now who are you? Why is she with you?”

Almost amazed at the gall of this guy, Price looks down at you, his brows raised and his head shaking in disbelief over how he kept blabbering.

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore.” Price spoke calmly. “She made that quite clear, didn’t she? Now it’s none of your business but I’m her goddamn boss. You hurt her so bad that she’s seeking refuge with her boss. And you think that warrants you still calling her your girlfriend? No, mate.” Price spoke, gripping the phone tighter, his jaw clenched.

“Just send her home to talk.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What’s your problem?!”

“You disrespected and hurt one of my best soldiers. That’s my problem. Now if you can’t treat her right and fill her needs, I sure as shit will. Call this number again and I’m coming over to shut you up personally.”

With that, Price ended the call, placing your phone on the table with a huff.

It took a second before the silence fully set in and Price looked down at you, swallowing. “Sorry, I- uh. I couldn’t have him talk about you anymore.”

He seemed almost embarrassed by practically yelling over the phone at a man he didn’t even know.

“Thank you.” You whispered, the tightness in your chest seeming a little looser before you let out a sigh. “How big do you think the chance is he’s now going to accuse me of cheating?”

“Moderately big.” Price sighed, pulling you up a bit to sit better in his arms. “I don’t know how you dated that asshole for so long, I’m sorry to say it so bluntly.”

Letting out a sigh, you shook your head. “It’s okay, I don’t know either. Just… was too blinded to see it, I guess.”

“Hey, you couldn’t have known he was cheating.” Price speaks softly, tilting your chin up to make you look at him.

You nod, letting out a shuddering breath before tightening your hold on the man as your thoughts raced. “I’m so angry, Price. I just want to do something to get back at him. I thought about beating him up when I- but I decided against it because of legal shit.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest at that, pleasant against your cheek and you glance up at him. “Probably for the best, though I can understand your want.” He hummed and you sighed.

Looking down again, you shifted a bit before your tongue darted out to moisten your lips. “Price?”

“Hm?”

“What did you mean saying that if he didn’t take care of me, you would?”

At your words, Price froze a bit, his eyes locked on a point across the room, darting a bit as he thought, his body shifting awkwardly.

“Well…” He started. “You deserve someone who loves you. He evidently didn’t.”

Pulling yourself back from his arms, Price instantly brought them down to his sides, crossing his legs and refusing to look at you. Somehow, he’d had the idle hope you wouldn’t read between the lines.

“I’ll go see if we can order some food.” He mumbled, deciding ignoring was the best course of action, yet as he began to move to stand up, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him back down.

Falling into the couch with a grunt, your hand was on his cheek and turning his face within a second, your lips connecting to his.

Shocked, Price stayed still for a second, not knowing what to do before his brain caught up on what was happening.

His left hand shot to the back of your head, tangling into your hair as he pulled you closer, starting to reciprocate the kiss in full, his mouth meshing with yours with no further hesitation.

Your eyes closed, you felt your captain kissing you so eagerly. And you felt more alive than you had in months of your past relationship.

Losing himself in your lips, Price felt his heart hammering in his chest as his right arm curled around your waist, grabbing and lifting you, turning until you were on his lap, making him tilt his head up to keep kissing you.

Shifting your hips, your hands dragged down his chest as you kissed him, the bristles of his muttonchops grazing against your skin in a drag more delicious than anything you’d ever imagined.

Finally, Price pulled back, his breathing heavy and laboured as he looked up at you. “Jesus, love.”

Panting softly, you looked down at Price, seeing his usually bright blue eyes darkened, his pupils wide as he looked at you, an almost adoring look on his face.

“I’m sorry-“ You started, only for Price to move both of his arms to your waist, pulling you in closer, forcing your legs to spread a bit further to accommodate his hips.

“Don’t you apologise.” He warned, leaning in to ghost his lips over your jaw, pressing a little kiss right below your ear. “You and I both know I don’t mind.”

Swallowing nervously, your hands tightened on his shoulders. “Yes but… it’s not right.”

“What’s not right is your boyfriend treating you like shit. You deserve more, sweetheart.” He rasped, shifting his hips a bit, making your eyes widen as you felt something press into you. “Let me make a proposition.” He said softly, one of his hands cupping your chin to make you look at him.

“I’ve seen you staring at me, I know what goes on in that mind of yours. But you were loyal to your boyfriend. That’s good. But he’s your ex now.”

“What are you saying?” You whisper.

At that, Price smirked, running his knuckles down your cheek. “I think you know. You want to get back at him? I can give you that.”

Biting your lip, you looked down, blushing as that left you staring at you sitting on his lap, practically on top of his crotch. “I-“

“Hey.” His voice was suddenly a lot softer as he made you look up at him. “You can say no, yeah? I’m reading between the lines here but if you don’t want this, just say it.” He spoke softly, his arm around your waist shifting to loosely hold onto your hip.

“You’re my boss.” You whisper and Price nods, a little dejected but masking it fairly well.

“I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He smiled kindly, taking in a deep breath, shifting to sit up to lift you off of his lap, only for your hand to land on his chest and push him back into the couch cushions.

Surprised, Price blinked up at you. “I’m not uncomfortable.” You spoke lowly. “I… want this. But what if we get in trouble?”

Hearing those words, it was like the flip of a switch as he got the green light. Reaching up, he placed his hand on your cheek. “We won’t get in trouble. Because right now I’m not your captain. We’re off duty, there is no ranks here.”

“That’s such semantics.” You whispered and Price chuckled, his hand on your hip starting to wander back, partially splaying onto your ass where he lightly squeezed.

“Semantics is all we need, darling. Tell me you want this.”

Biting your lip, you nodded. “I want this.”

“Good.” Price grinned before leaning in, kissing you.

Wasting no time, he parted his lips, his tongue swiping yours as he asked for entrance, his hips starting to rock into you.

Grunting softly, you opened up, feeling his tongue start to delve into your mouth and explore, his hands wandering up and down your body as he rocked his hips, searching for friction.

Throwing caution to the wind, you began returning in kind. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you started grinding your hips, earning a groan from Price while you kissed, your lips feverishly moving against each other, desperate and needy.

Gripping your hip with his left hand, Price moved his right down your stomach, teasing his shirt that you were wearing up, a little groan leaving him as his palm brushed against his own joggers currently on your hips.

Breaking the kiss, he instantly started kissing down your jaw and to your neck. “Fuck, you look so heavenly in my clothes. It was such a mistake to give it to you.” He panted, his right hand gripping the waistband of your pants. “Wanted to take them off you straight away.

Smiling softly against his hair, you felt him nip at the skin of your neck, his hand grazing your lower stomach making butterflies crash around. “Do you really have such little self-control, sir?” You teased and Price bit down hard on your neck with a groan.

“Told you, there’s no ranks here.”

“You did, but I think you like it, sir.” You grinned and Price tensed beneath you, his hips twitching.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He whispered. His hand starting to slip past your waistband, moving into your pants. “I’ll play along.”

Biting your lip, you felt his fingers explore down, rubbing the fabric of your panties, barely grazing your clit.

“Price-“ You whispered, feeling him buck his hips up into you, making you whimper, desperate for more.

“I know.” He hummed, his finger finding your clit, pressing it through the fabric of your panties, making you whine as he started circling his finger on it.

Biting your lip, you tried to push your hand into your pants as well, wanting to move your panties for him but Price stopped you, grabbing your wrist and tutting softly.

“None of that now. I’m taking my time with you.” He whispered, moving his finger down to the seat of your panties now, feeling how damp the fabric was, your slick soaking into it.

Unable to take it, you reached forward and grabbed onto the fabric of his jeans. Unbuttoning it, Price groaned softly, feeling his erection jump.

Carefully reaching in, you bypassed his underwear, feeling him instantly, his length straining against the confinements of his clothing.

Licking your lips, you carefully wrapped your fingers around it, your heart beating a little faster as you felt the width, sitting heavy in your palm.

“Go on, love.” Price encouraged, his breathing a little faster as he felt your hand on him, his own fingers finally pushing the fabric of your panties aside as he instead started running his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

Shuddering out a breath, you started trying to pull him out, only to stop as Price sunk a finger into you, his mouth on your neck starting to suck little hickeys while he kept encouraging you to continue.

Steeling yourself, you pulled him out, hard and big, making you bite your lip in equal nervousness and excitement.

“You’re so warm.” Price whispered into your ear, slowly thrusting his finger in and out, quickly adding a second, making you groan faintly. “That’s it. My girl.”

Shifting your hips, his fingers dragged through your walls and you started moving your hand up to the tip, using your thumb to rub over his slit, starting to spread his precum.

“Good girl.” Price praised, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he started scissoring his fingers, his palm finding your clit and rubbing into it.

“Hn-“ Suppressing a whine, you held onto the man with your free hand, your eyes closing. “Price, I want you…”

Groaning softly at your admission, Price smiled to himself, kissing under your ear and down your neck, sucking softly every now and then.

“I want you too but I don’t have a condom, love. Didn’t exactly prepare for this.”

“I’m clean.” You whispered, having always used protection with your boyfriend.

“I meant it more for your comfort than mine, sweetheart.” Price rumbled a chuckle. “Don’t want any happy accidents, do we?”

“I’m on birth control.” You whispered, grinding your hips, desperate for friction even as Price continued to softly pump his fingers, scissoring them and caressing your walls.

“Are you sure?” He asked, stifling a groan as you squeezed your hand around him.

“I want you.”

Letting out a little strained huff, Price pulled his head back and kissed you while pushing a third finger into you, gently moving it in and out, stretching you open.

Whimpering in response, your eyes shut as pleasure curled through you, his palm still digging into your clit while he moved his fingers.

“Please-“ You whined again and he couldn’t resist anymore.

Pulling his fingers out, you groaned at the kiss, feeling him retract his hand completely before he lifted you up and quickly turned the both of you around, pushing you down onto the couch while he leaned over you, his hips between your legs still.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

Without hesitation, you nodded and Price stuttered out a breath, reaching down to pump himself a few times, purposely using his right hand to spread your slick onto himself, a little groan leaving him.

“Take it off for me, sweetheart, yeah?” He asked, using that time to take his turtleneck off, throwing it over the back of the couch, watching you strip of all your clothes except your underwear.

Pushing his own pants down to his knees, he shifted to lean over you, his hands on either side of your head.

“You’re so pretty for me.” He whispered, his eyes roving your body. “Imagined this so many times and now here you are.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing you, his hand moving down in the meantime, starting to push your panties down your legs, slowly taking them off completely, leaving you bare beneath him.

Panting softly, you looked up, seeing Price hovering over you, his chest covered with hair, leading down to his stomach where it gathered in a point, running down until it flared again into a happy trail.

His cock stood, hard and the tip red, clearly just as needy as you felt.

Seeing you blatantly ogling him, Price smirked, leaning over you again, his right hand grabbing himself as he pressed his tip against your entrance.

“Are you ready, love?” He whispered, starting to glide the head through your folds, smearing your slick onto himself, spreading it.

“Yes, god, please-“ You practically begged, seeing the man’s lip curled up as he then positioned himself by your entrance again before pushing into you.

While he took it slow, your mouth fell open at the stretch, your eyes falling shut as you focused on his cock slowly pushing in.

“There you go, doing so good.” Price whispered, his breathing sped up in excitement as he slid in. You were so wet, making it easy.

About halfway in, he felt resistance and Price groaned. Your walls were wrapped so snugly around him and he carefully pulled out, keeping it slow to keep you comfortable.

“F-Feels good.” You whispered, feeling him slowly thrust in and out, slowly working more and more of himself into you.

“You’re taking me well, love.” Price praised, unable to take his eyes off of the slick coating his cock every time he pulled out, watching his length disappear into you just a second after.

“Sir-“ You whined and Price groaned, pushing in a little harder. Starting to speed up.

“That’s it. My pretty girl.” He gasped, reaching down to start playing with your clit.

“Ah-“ You whined and Price bit his lip, starting to increase his thrusts, watching you take more and more of his cock.

“Come on, take all of me, love.” He encouraged, pushing his hips forward, trying to push past your tight walls before he pulled out until the tip, thrusting back in after, repeating the process and working himself into your heat. “Almost.”

“Price-“ You moaned, the stretch making you gasp as he rubbed your clit.

“I know, I know.” He soothed, pushing his hips forward until finally, his hips were flush with yours, his entire length inside you. “Good girl, fuck-“

Panting, Price gripped your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. “Please move.” You begged and he nodded, starting to thrust, making sure you were taking him entirely every time.

“You feel so good. So tight.” He praised, leaning down to bite into your neck while his hips moved.

“Price-!” You moaned, throwing your head back while he sped up.

Groaning into your skin, Price fucked into you, his eyes closed as he focused on your tight cunt wrapped around him.

His fingers still played with your clit, making a heat spread through you as you whimpered.

Reaching up, your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his head and you pulled his face up and away from your neck, instead slamming your lips to his, to which he quickly reciprocated.

Thrusting into you, Price’s right hand moved from your thigh to your ass, squeezing it appreciatively while he delved his tongue into your mouth, his other hand moved from your clit to resting on the side of your neck, his thumb splayed around the front of it, making him have a light hold on your throat while he kissed you.

Moaning into his mouth, your toes curled as he worked his cock inside you again and again, your heart pounding as a sheen of sweat started to appear on both your bodies.

Breaking the kiss, Price groaned against your lips, his right hand shifting to rub your clit again, making you clench around him.

“Oh fuck-“ Price moaned ever so softly, speeding up his thrusts as he felt a heat grow, his climax impending.

“Price, sir-“ You whimpered out a moan, Price pushing harder on your clit while he pounded into you fast and deep, making sure to hit all the way inside.

With every thrust into you, his cock hit your G-spot, making your back arch as you felt your walls begin to clench.

“That’s it, good girl. Needed me inside this pussy so bad, huh?” Price panted, his thrusts starting to stutter.

Nodding desperately, you whined out, bucking your hips into his thrusts, making him hit even deeper, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. “Fuck!” You cried out, causing Price to groan, his hand retreating from your neck to instead hold your hips up, making sure to keep hitting that exact angle over and over and over.

“He didn’t deserve you. Didn’t deserve to taste you, to feel you, to love you.” Price rambled, slowing down though he went rougher, starting to chase his high.

“Price, I’m-“ You cried out, throwing your head back as you felt his thumb push down firmly on your clit, a pressure building up in your abdomen.

“Go ahead.” He groaned. “I’m not far behind.”

Moaning, you sharply arched your back, feeling hum thrust in, your cunt stretched so wide on him while he circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Unable to hold it in, it took just one more thrust for you to fall over the edge. Your orgasm hit hard as you moaned, your eyes forced shut as you clung onto Price, your nails digging into his shoulders while your walls spasmed and clenched around his shaft.

Gasping, Price continued to fuck you through your climax, your cunt tightening repeatedly around him and making him moan.

Releasing your clit, he caught himself with both hands on either side of your head, desperately thrusting into you, feeling your heat and the tightness overwhelming him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, so good for me.” He groaned, panting harshly as he thrust a few more times before feeling himself start to twitch.

With a groan, he pulled out, his hand shooting down to rapidly jerk himself, needing just a few strokes before he too was cumming.

Moaning, he released his load onto your stomach and chest, thick, white spurts landing on your skin and pooling in the grooves of your flesh.

Jerking himself a few more times, Price then let go, panting harshly as he opened his eyes, looking down to see you laying beneath him, your eyes hazy, your chest heaving, and your skin painted with his seed.

Trying to catch his breath, Price hovered over you, his eyes glazed as his gaze slowly ran up and down your torso, unable to look away from his cum splattered onto your skin - thick, white and possessive.

“Fuck, I wanna take a picture and send it to that asshole.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. “Show him who’s taking care of you now. Taking proper care of you.” There was a slight smile in his voice and you gently kissed back, instantly taking Price with it as he leaned closer, kissing you eagerly.

While the night started terribly for you, neither Price or you would see much sleep before sunrise.

Masterlist to my other fics :)

#john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #price x reader #captain price smut #cod x reader #john price smut

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

Apartment 222 ☾

neighbor!jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, fingering (f.), protected sex (missionary), explict smut, y/n is such a sweetheart bless her soul

Summary: Rule number 1: don't show up drunk at your hot neighbor's apartment if it’s 2am

Word Count: 4k

_______________________________________________

“What the fuck?” You sigh out of frustration. It’s 2am and you are very drunk trying to get into the front door of your apartment. The uber dropped you off and now that you’re home safely, you can’t actually get into your living space.

You’re fiddling with the doorknob, twisting and turning and pushing the door in. But for some reason, your key doesn’t fit in the door.

Your feet hurt from the heels you’ve been wearing all night and it’s making you more frustrated.

Why the hell is your key broken?

Suddenly, the front door opens, completely startling you. A very tired man is on the other side, wiping his eyes and clearly pissed off. Your drunk brain has still not processed what's happening, but all you know is that he's really hot and standing in your apartment?

Are you dreaming right now?

“What the fuck?” he groans.

Oh.

This is not your apartment. This is not your apartment at all and you are such an idiot. You look up at the number on the door, 222-A. Oh fuck, you live in 222-B.

You gasp. “Holy shit I’m so sorry! I thought this was my apartment and I was trying to figure out why my key wouldn’t fit and, I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He’s silent, staring at you dumbfounded and somewhat in disbelief. He’s looking you up and down, based on your attire it’s obvious you’ve been out clubbing. He can tell you’re drunk, but sincere.

He sighs. “Yeah whatever.”

There’s a moment of silence. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed. “Do you know where you live?”

“Oh! Yes I do, I’m in 222-B,” you say much louder than intended. “That makes us neighbors!”

He blinks at you. “Uh huh.”

There’s another moment of silence. He’s waiting for you to leave him alone so he can go back to bed but you’re too drunk to pick up on social cues. He is so beyond uninterested and the alcohol is completely clouding your judgement.

Of course you didn’t know this, but despite his cold demeanor he was actually kind of intrigued by you. Granted, you were a very drunk girl who woke him up at 2am. However, you were a very pretty drunk girl that woke him up at 2am. Not to mention the little dress you were wearing looked absolutely stunning on you.

It was simple, yet sexy. All black long sleeve off the shoulder that hugged your body perfectly. He caught himself staring a bit too much through tired eyes.

Your makeup was faded from the night you had, but the smudged eyeliner actually seemed to suit you more. You had a very effortless beauty to you, he liked that.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding again,” you apologize once more before stumbling to your actual apartment.

His door is already closed by the time you unlock yours. You feel so bad for waking him up this late. You’ve only been living here a month and you’ve already pissed off your insanely hot neighbor.

It’s been two weeks since your drunk encounter with the hot neighbor and you think you’ve found the perfect way to make it up to him.

You don’t seem to be the only person confusing your apartments because when you went to retrieve your mail this morning, there was an envelope in your mailbox addressed to a Yoon Jeonghan at 222-A.

You take your mail and his before heading up the elevator to your apartment. You make a pit stop, knocking on the door of 222-A.

You wait patiently and sure enough your hot neighbor opens the door again. He’s wearing a plain white tee and some sweatpants and half his hair is styled up into a ponytail.

“It’s you again,” he leans against the door frame.

“Hi, yeah. Your mail was in my mailbox and I figured I’d bring it to you since it got mixed up,” you tell him.

“You could’ve just put it into my mailbox, but thanks,” he replies, taking the envelope out your hand.

“I know, I just felt bad about the other night and I guess I felt a little inclined to do some sort of kind gesture,” you say.

“You’re new here right?” he asks suddenly.

You nod. “Yeah, I just moved in about a month ago. I’m still not fully unpacked yet.”

“Figures,” he mumbles.

He clears his throat. “Thanks for the mail and uh, I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before the door is closed. You’re standing at his door for another 30 seconds dumbfounded and in disbelief.

At least he said thank you?

“Dude your neighbor’s hot,” Joshua comments as he exists the elevator, making his way toward his friend's apartment.

Jeonghan follows his friend's eyes, seeing you struggling to fit a large box through your door. He’s in no place to disagree with his friend, anyone could see that you were beautiful.

“Yeah, kind of annoying though,” he shrugs, pulling out his keys.

“Have you talked to her?” Joshua asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know her name or anything, she just moved in like a month ago. She woke me up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago because she thought she lived in my apartment.”

Joshua smiles. "That's adorable."

"No it's not," Jeonghan frowns. "I was trying to sleep and she was pissing me off."

"Yeah but she's hot," Joshua comments. "Besides, you haven't been with anyone in forever, maybe this is your chance."

Jeonghan's jaw clenches. "Don't even think about it. Joshua I swear if you–"

Joshua smirks before disappearing from his friend's side and heading toward you.

“Do you need help?”

You pause what you’re doing, looking up at the handsome stranger in front of you. You can see the hot neighbor, Jeonghan, standing behind him.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you smile. “The last of my furniture finally arrived but they couldn’t have someone come and install it for me.”

The handsome stranger nods before helping you move the large box into your apartment.

“I’m Joshua by the way,” he introduces himself.

“Y/n,” you say, giving the box one last push that wedges it between the door frame. “Do you live here too?”

“Practically,” he smiles. “Jeonghan is my best friend so I spend a lot of time here. So I hope to be seeing more of you around here.”

You smile back at him. “Maybe you will.”

_________________

You’ve successfully moved the box into your apartment with Joshua’s help. You talked a bit while he helped you, getting to know him. He's a total sweetheart.

“Do you need help setting it up too?” he asks.

“Uh, only if you want to.” you shrug. “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” the boy smiles.

He peaks his head out the open doorway. “Jeonghan! Come here!”

The other boy walks over and stands in front of the open doorway. “What?”

“Help us out will you?” Joshua smirks. “It’s not very neighborly for you to lurk in the hallway while Y/n struggles with her bed.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Didn’t think she’d be struggling if she had you helping her.”

Jeonghan pushes past his friend wordlessly and begins opening the oversized box. Joshua lets out a scoff before closing your front door and joining in on the help.

__________________

Joshua and Jeonghan have been bickering for the last two hours about how to set up your bed frame. They've managed to build somewhat of a structure, but it's hard to say whether or not they've done so correctly.Unfortunately, the instructions were in German.

"Google translate said it means left," Joshua instructs.

"I don't give a fuck about what google translate says," Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

Jeonghan continues against Joshua's will, and moments later the entire structure falls to the ground with a thud.

"See!" Joshua scoffs.

"Screw this," Jeonghan rises to his feet. "It's getting late, I'm going back to my apartment. Joshua, you can go home."

"Jeonghan, you can't just break someone's bed and then storm out," Joshua points out.

Both of the boys shift their gaze to you slowly. You're standing in the middle of your bedroom awkwardly. "Uh.."

Jeonghan rolls his eyes again before reaching into his wallet in his back pocket. He pulls out a bill and extends his hand toward you. "Here's 50 bucks,"

Joshua is quick to swat his friend's hand away. "You asshole!

"I didn't do anything!" Jeonghan exclaims.

You clear your throat. "I'm gonna call the company and see if they can come in tomorrow and set up the bed... properly. Can you guys just clean this up for me?"

You excuse yourself, making the phone call from the living room. You can still hear the boys bickering and scrambling.

After finishing up your phone call, you make your way back to your bedroom. The two boys look to you. "They said someone is going to come by in between 12 and 4 tomorrow. Thanks for the help though."

"But where are you going to sleep tonight?" Joshua asks.

You shrug. "The air mattress in the living room like I have been the past month."

"No, you've been sleeping on that busted ass air mattress for a month already. Just spend a night at Jeonghan's until the professionals come back tomorrow." Joshua suggests.

"Excuse me?" Jeonghan scoffs. "Have you actually lost your mind?"

"Jeonghan don't be rude, she's your neighbor," Joshua points out.

"Just because she's my neighbor that doesn't mean she needs to be sleeping in my apartment."

"Yeah well it's your fault the bed isn't set up, so the least you can do is offer her a place to sleep for one night." Joshua explains.

"Oh yeah, you really don't have to–"

"Nonsense," Joshua cuts you off and begins pushing you toward the front door. He grabs your phone and keys for you and continues pushing you out the room. "Jeonghan's a good guy and great company, it's the least he can do."

Jeonghan groans before trailing behind as the three of you head toward 222-A. When you arrive, Joshua leaves as quickly as he enters, leaving just you and Jeonghan.

It's painfully and awkwardly silent between the two of you. The only noise filling the room is the sound of rain from outside.

Jeonghan finally breaks the silence after what feels like an eternity. "Okay, I'll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed. Bedroom is right there to the left. Bathroom is connected to my room, it's the door on the right so you can take a shower." he states plainly.

"Thank you."

Without another word, he makes his way to the couch and plops down, turning on the television for himself. You stand there for a moment, blinking and dumbfounded before venturing into his bedroom.

His room is nice. Everything is kept neat and organized, much like the rest of his apartment. What really caught your attention however, was the large trophy cabinet pressed against the wall and filled with different lego sets.

Holy shit.

You stood in front of the cabinet, admiring the different lego sets. There were castles, spaceships, helicopters, bridges, trees, ships, and more.

Your attention soon shifted to the lego sets on his dresser. There were four of them, all built into cars. You couldn't begin to imagine how expensive and time consuming this must have been. The cars by far, were the most impressive things in the room.

Who knew your cold neighbor was a lego nerd?

Your eyes are trained on the cars, fingers running along the hard plastic as you admire his work.

"Don't touch those," a voice says from behind you, completely startling you.

You retreat your hands quickly, backing away from the dresser. "Sorry," you apologize sheepishly.

He doesn't acknowledge your apology. "I thought you'd be in the shower, so I was going to come in here and get some clothes for you to wear."

He begins looking through his neatly organized drawers.

"Oh, I can just get stuff from my apartment, it's no bother," you offer.

"It's fine," he says, pulling out a t-shirt. "Just don't stain my clothes or anything."

He leaves one of his shirts and a pair of shorts on the bed for you and exits the room. You shower and dress yourself in his clothes before venturing into the livingroom. He's still seated on the couch, he looks back at you before quickly shifting his attention back to the tv.

"Um," you scratch the back of your neck. "I'm done so... thank you."

"Mhm," he doesn't shift his eyes from the tv.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," you start.

"You think?" he brushes past you.

You sigh. "Sorry... I know me being here is inconveniencing for you, I'll just go back to my place and wash your clothes so you can have them back tomorrow. Thank you though."

You begin making your way toward the door.

"Wait," he sighs. "I'm sorry for being so mean to you." he pauses the tv.

You stop in your tracks.

"You can stay... I'm just a bit tired. I don't mind having you stay here all that much."

Relief washes over you.

"Thank you," you say before venturing back into his bedroom for the night.

_______________

It's funny how history repeats itself. For the second time in just a few weeks, you've woken Jeonghan up in middle of the night. Although this time was very different from the first.

He knocked out on the couch about a while ago, but indistinct mumbling whimpering and what sounded like crying brought him out of his slumber.

"Y/n?" he calls.

Nothing.

It's raining harder outside now. Shocks of lightning flash, illuminating the living room, often followed by loud crashes of thunder. He rises from the couch and makes his way toward the bedroom.

He calls your name again.

You don't respond. He watches the way the blanket jumps as the thunder crashes again. His face softens when he realizes, you're terrified.

"Y/n?" he takes cautious steps toward the bed.

"Jeonghan?" you question in just above a whisper. You pull the covers off your face, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sob. "I'm so sorry–fuck this is pathetic. I'm sorry."

He sits atop of the covers on to corner of the bed next to you. "Don't worry about it, you're fine. I get it–"

The thunder crashes again, causing your whole body to react. He feels awful.

"Do you... do you want me to sleep here with you tonight?" he asks hesitantly. "Would that make you feel better?"

"But you hate me," you mumble.

"I don't–I don't hate you," he sighs. " I told you already that I was sorry, please believe me. Honestly, I think I acted so coldly toward you because I've been kind of interested in you since you first showed up at my door and I have a bit of a defense mechanism when it comes to stuff like this."

"Are you serious? Because all my friends have been hearing on the phone is me talking about my hot neighbor for the past few weeks," you mumble into the pillow.

He smiles to himself at the thought. "Yes, I'm serious."

Wordlessly, you slide down the bed covers next to you, inviting him in. He accepts your invitation, slipping beneath the soft sheets next to you.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

You nod. "Yeah."

His face is so close. You're mere inches apart, the slightest movement in the right direction and your nose would brush against his.

Your heart is beating so fast, yet you somehow still feel at ease. You feel comfort with him, all feelings of fear wiped from your mind. His soft orbs stare into yours, occasionally drifting down to your lips and back into your eyes.

He's silently asking for permission to kiss you. He really really wants to. Is this even the right time for that?

Fuck it.

Holy shit–

Your eyes are closed before you know it.

You're not entirely sure of what to do with yourself, so instinctively you reach out, allowing your body to act before your mind. You stop fighting the urge that is kissing Yoon Jeonghan and allow an arm to wrap around his neck and the other entangling into his hair.

His hair is so soft.

He smiles against your lips, breaking away for only a moment. "I didn't ask before I did that," he whispers. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Anything but," you say against his lips.

It's all the permission he needs before leaning back in. Your lips are already tingling, burning with heat and excitement from the previous contact. This time, he's relentless, mouth meeting yours with hunger and desperation.

It was as if a fire broke out inside of both of you.

Your breathing changed, growing more shallow as warmth spread across your body. He was pressed so close against you, causing something to flutter in the pit of your stomach.

You were on cloud 9.

Never had you been kissed like that, and never had someone given you that feelings but fuck, it felt so good.

You began tugging lightly at his shirt, signaling that you wanted it off. He got your message quickly, momentarily breaking the heated kiss to slip the fabric off his body.

He tosses is somewhere onto the ground, he'll find it tomorrow morning. It was the least of his concerns right now. The pretty girl in his bed had all his attention.

Soon, other articles of clothing were stripped from both of your bodies, discarded onto the floor without a care. It didn't take long before your naked bodies were pressed against one another, lips still pressed against one another.

His delicate fingers trace along your skin gently. He pushes your body down lightly, pinning you flat onto the bed as he pulls away from the kiss. He climbs on top of you, hovering over your nude figure.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes. It's dark in the room, but the moonlight shines from his window, illuminating the room just enough that he can see your beautiful body and face.

He begins leaving a trail of kisses down your body. Your jaw, neck, breasts, stomach. He mumbles about how pretty you are with each kiss he leaves on your skin.

You tug at his hair with a whine when he presses a kiss against your lower stomach. "Jeonghan, just touch me... please."

He's happy to oblige.

He brings his head back up, burying in the crook of your neck as his fingers move between your thighs. You let out a soft moan at the initial contact.

He continues to work his fingers on you, focusing on your clit and smiling to himself as you start to soak his fingers. It doesn't take long for you to get wet enough for him to slip a finger in.

"Shit," you breathe out.

He continues pumping his finger before slipping in another. You're panting and moaning softly beneath him as he works his fingers on you. He curls them ever so slightly, creating the perfect angle that has you craving more.

You're pushing your hips into his fingers, fucking yourself on his slim digits. His thumb continues to rub circles on your clit as you completely soak his fingers.

It gets easier for him to pleasure you as he thrusts his fingers into your cunt. You sound so pretty too, whimpering his name as he coaxes you toward your orgasm.

You can feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach as you grow closer to your high. You're pushing your hips into his fingers messily, growing less and less coordinated as you desperately try to get yourself off.

It only takes another curl of his fingers before you're sent over the edge. Relief washes over you as you entire a state of euphoria. You can feel his hard cock twitch as its pressed against your inner thigh. He whispers sweet words against your collarbone as he talks you down from your high.

"Good?"

You nod in response, hands immediately reaching for his hard cock. "Need more... want you inside."

He curses to himself.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you plead. "Want you to feel good too... please fuck me."

He's quick to act, reaching into his nightstand drawer to grab a condom. He rips it open with his teeth and slides it on with ease before lining himself up with your entrance. He drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, teasing you just enough to whine about how you needed more from him.

And he was going to deliver.

Now that he prepped you, you took his length in easily. He slid in, building up to an intense thrusting speed in no time. You were so wet, the sounds of his cock fucking into you echoed throughout the bedroom.

"Fuck," he groans. "Was made for this fucking cunt... you take me so well."

Your head sinks into the pillow as you allow the pleasure to take over your body. The headboard creates a thud with each thrust, pushing against the wall as he fucks you. He fills you up so nicely, thrusting and hitting all your sweet spots.

Your bodies grow sticky and sweaty as he fucks you. "Feels so good," you moan.

Each drag of his cock into your cunt pushes your thoughts around in your brain. All the fear has been fucked out of you and you can hardly think properly. The only thing you know for sure right now is that he feels absolutely incredible inside of you.

You've never had sex like this before. So intimate... yet rough and full of passion. It was rare for your past partners to get you to climax, but you can already feel your second one approaching.

"You gonna give me another one already, pretty girl?" he asks.

All you can do is nod.

Your cunt is clenching around him, walls fluttering as you near your second orgasm of the night. He knows he won't last much longer either, not with the way you're gripping him.

"Oh fuck," you moan.

A few more thrusts are you're done for, allowing your second orgasm to fill you with inexplicable pleasure. You're somehow gripping him tighter when you cum, sending him into his own orgasm.

He fills the condom, pumping his cum into the rubber as your cunt milks him dry. You're both panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

He pulls out of you, discarding of the used rubber before snuggling up against you beneath the sheets. His arms are wrapped around your frame and his fingers entangle themselves into your hair.

"Are you okay?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yeah," you respond, snuggling closer into his chest.

"You were so good," he praises, lips brushing against your ear. "So so good."

"I wanted you to feel good," you admit with a yawn.

"You're perfect," he compliments. "You feeling sleepy?"

You nod. "A little."

"Okay," he continues running his fingers through your hair. "Get some rest okay? I'll hold you and make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You .let out another yawn. "Yeah... thank you neighbor."

You're out like a light in less than five minutes. Jeonghan finds himself smiling as you rest in his arms. He feels better with you in his bed, it helps him sleep better.

Before he knows it, he's drifting off. The storm outside has died down, and he knows when the sun comes up, you'll still be in his arms and he couldn't be happier.

He'll have to thank Joshua later.

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan seventeen #jeonghan fic #svt jeonghan

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heliads · 4 months

Text

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things: either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him: he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top.

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily.

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer.

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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reidsqlick · 1 month

Text

You’re back.. || (S.R)

The second part of “You’ll be back, right?” — Part One!

pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

summary: he said he’d be back for you, you waited.. he hadn’t shown.. what’ll happen?

warning(s): (MDNI 18+) stress, nausea, self-degradation, skin picking, pet-names, fingering, swearing !! (i believe that’s all..)

word count: 1,8k

‘He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, "You'll be back, right?" your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.

He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, "Right."’

—

The room was pale, normal for a hotel room. It was dark, gloomy, very much on the brink of unsettling. You hadn’t quite realized this before.. not really minding the room, it’s average, right? You’ve been on this job to be able to say you’ve been in enough hotel rooms than the average person does in a lifetime, but this room.. it’s different. A pit starts to form in your stomach, a feeling of utter emptiness.

Well.. now it’s different. The obvious lack of your previous partner is enough to make you weak, not that you weren’t already.. but your mental state is becoming ever so fragile by the second. He hadn’t returned. He said he’d be ‘right back’ and truly, an hour and a half doesn’t seem to be ‘right back’ to me.

Reid had always been a man of his word.. in fact, he had promised you he hadn’t wanted to leave, yet the minute he did and got the chance to be stripped of your company, he took it. The pit in your stomach grows. Didn’t he want you as a partner? Didn’t he want what you wanted? Did he lie? Why does he always make you feel like this, one second he likes you, the next he’s gone without a word.

Tears begin to form in the creases of my eyes. Am I truly that naive? So naive I let the man I’d fallen hopelessly for three years ago take my virginity? I had to constantly remind myself not to let myself go, and here I am.. alone in a hotel room miles away from home, hopelessly trying to grip onto a sliver of hope that he’ll return any second.

The sad part is I actually thought he’d be back, I trusted him with my feelings, with my body. My stomach turns, a single tear falling from my eye and burning my skin, like a fire igniting within me… anger? No, not at all anger, but pure regret. I told myself I’d handle myself around guys, especially that one, and I hadn’t. I left myself down. Another tear falls from my glassy eye.

I want to reverse what happened, go back and tell myself that this had to have been another thing for Reid to have against you, another way for him to turn against you, another way to control your feelings in a way that was more than belittling.

I claw at my skin, picking at it, dangerously close to drawing blood, but I don’t care. My stress takes control, my body shaking, my skin an absolute wreck. I need an out, I need to be out. I want to be home.

I feel nauseous.

I’m rocking myself from side to side, a mechanism I’ve had since I was a child. Biting my lip, picking at the skin that surrounds my nails. I feel like a child. I’m so childish. Couldn’t I have denied him? Why do I let him into my heart when all he does is break mine? The pit in my stomach drops, I need to puke.

I crawl out of bed, and run to the bathroom, jerking myself forward, feeling my stomach turn. I hate loving Spencer Reid. It’s a mistake, one I shouldn’t have made, one I poorly made. I need to take it back, I need to leave the team, I need to be home, why did I drink so much?

As I sit there, direly close to puking everywhere, I hear the doorknob rattle, once the person on the other end had realized the door was locked, a knock came seconds later. I pulled myself off of the floor, I’m dizzy. Mental note to self: take medication for this headache.

When I open the door, unaware that it would’ve been smarter to look through the peephole before, it opens to a panting Reid, a concerned look on his face, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth when he saw my face.

He reached his arms out, springing forward to hug me, and he won’t even shake hands with people? His arms on me feel all too familiar, I’m nauseous. I want to push him away, but I need him here, I’m a puddle of nothing without him.

I’m so pathetic, it’s depressing.

I sniffle, having only cried minutes earlier. “Where were you?” I said quietly, almost a whisper. He frowned, keeping his hands steady on my waist “Pretty Girl…” he shook his head at what seemed to be himself, “I’m so sorry. I went to grab clothes for tomorrow so I would be able to stay with you tonight, I didn’t want to leave you alone..” he said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean it, I had searched my go bag and couldn’t find anything, I stressed, and that stress led to me being so tired I fell asleep, i didn’t want to leave you, love.. please understand.” You sniffle again, another tear falling from your eye, is he lying? If so, it’s got to be the worst lie he could’ve come up with.

He lifted one of his hands to your face, his thumb wiping away your tears, your cheek felt hot, the same fire from earlier getting hotter. “I waited for you.. you promised you’d be back..” you looked down, not needing to see him right now, it didn’t help your case.

“Angel..” his hand still soft on your face, his touch seemingly healing all that’s wrong. “you’ve got to believe me, I wouldn’t leave you like that, ever. You should’ve came and woke me up.” He shook his head again, “I shouldn’t have even been sleeping, princess.. trust me when I say I didn’t mean this even a little bit.”

You had to tell him you were a virgin, but first you needed to not be standing up, you were already dizzy, and this is the type of conversation you’d sit for. You waddle to your bed slowly, him following suit, once sat he was directly next to you, sitting against the headboard, hand slung around your waist, thumb rubbing circles into your plush skin.

“Reid…” your voice cracked, “I need to tell you something.” He nodded, “Mhm?”. The pit in your stomach returns again, eating you from the inside out. “I’m.. a.. well I was.. a-“ a tear falls down my cheek “virgin.” He’d completely had moved to face you, hand moving to your face to wipe your tears.

“Angel,” he spoke, quieting you when you’d almost interrupted him, “why didn’t you tell me? I.. was I? Too much..?” You giggled foolishly, tears still leaving your eyes, the faint taste of salt now lingering on your lips. “No, not too much.. just.. figured you- should know.”

He smiled softly, moving both of his hands to the side of your face, “Can I kiss you?” He asked, you nodded. “Do we have to go through this again? I’d prefer it if you used your words, Angel.” All that could leave your mouth was a faint “yes,” a whisper, silent consent for him to make his next move.

His mouth was on yours in an instant, his tongue entering your mouth tasted like your tears, making you wince. You melted into the kiss, feeling safe, feeling content.

The kiss had gotten heated quickly, your hips bucking into the air, a faint “please” left your lips. He broke of the kiss, “Hm? Couldn’t hear you, princess..” “Please, I-“ he chuckled, “You?” you looked down.. “I want.. more.. please?” He’d move his hand to your chin, lifting it, enforcing eye contact.

“Your wish is my command, pretty girl.” He smirked, spreading your legs, and reaching under your pajama pants, finding your apparent lack of underwear. “Oh..” he smirked “so wet already, all ready for me, right? No panties.. you wanted this.” His finger ran up your slit “you were waiting for this.” Your head fell back, whimpering his name.

He groaned in appreciation, his hand moving to circle your clit, watching your hips buck, hearing your name fall from your mouth with no remorse, he loves this. He loves you. Always has.. “Feel good, doesn’t it? I’m gonna take care of you, Angel.” More whimpers left your mouth.

He didn’t want to be too harsh on you, he wanted to take care of you, to apologize in the only way he knew. He was good with statistics, talked about them for hours, rambling as much as he could get in a conversation. His feelings? They’ve always been hard for him, he’s best through expressing how he feels physically. This is his way of apologizing, and you knew it without him even telling you.

He stopped his circles to move his fingers down to your aching cunt, it tightening around nothing, you were his favorite sight he’s ever seen by far. “You ready for them, princess?” He asks you, teasing you softly, “y- mhm, mhm yes.” You were essentially incoherent, he understood half of it, and the other half was answered by your body’s reaction to his words.

His fingers entered you slowly, but couldn’t keep that pace for long, watching your face contort under him was something that’s going to be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his life. His pace had sped up fairly quickly, not too fast where it’d hurt, but fast enough to make your legs shake with such ease you didn’t even know how a person could do such things.

You gripped onto the sheets, whimpering incoherently, “I- p- lease… m- fuck.. close…” how he can make you so needy, and get you ever so close in such a short amount of time baffles the both of you, he chucked, moving faster.. anything for you, forever. Your head cocked forward and you had locked eyes with Spencer, “I- Reid.. I’m- c-“ he cut you off, “let go for me baby, please. Let me make this up to you..” he brought his thumb back up to rub small, tight circles, matching the rhythm his fingers had kept.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Your whole body warm, to cold, to hot, shaking like you had just hours before due to him. You had pulled your pajamas back up, and gotten closer to him, needing him.

The pit in your stomach was gone, vanishing without a trace.

“Thank you…” you smiled up at him, snuggling into his chest. He rubbed circles into your waist with his hand, “Anything, Angel. I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise, I’ll make this up. You didn’t deserve any of that, me leaving you? That was cruel, and I’m sorry.” He took a deep breathe, “I’m never going to leave you like that again.”

You spoke up, “Promise? And I mean promise. No empty ones, but ones you’ll stick to.” He smiled to himself, “Promise. I’ll fulfill however many promises it takes to make this one up to you..” you giggled, “I love you.” He whispered, making himself just loud enough so you could hear him, “I love you too.”

The room was livable again, I could breathe. I was relieved, the walls no longer feeling claustrophobic, I guess I won’t leave the team after all… Spencer’s worth waiting for.

A/N: I’m so sorry this is SOOOO bad holy shit but here you guys go i hope uu like it! please, i beg.. tell me how i did or something feedback really helps w stuff like this 🙏🙏

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid smut #smut #criminal minds #gublergram #gublerland #gublernation #gublerween #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg pics #spencer reid x you #cm #cm smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader

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kettlefire · 7 months

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Kid Flash & the Prison.

Wally West doesn't believe in the supernatural.

Aliens? Sure. Atlanteans? Understandable. Clones? Yes, makes perfect sense.

Magic and ghosts? Party tricks.

It's not real, and it never will be.

That's the only reason he accepted the stupid bet. He knows Robin was just trying to rile him up, but he couldn't help it.

M'gann was so sure it was haunted. Swore up and down that it just didn't feel right, and tried to talk Wally out of it.

He wasn't going to wuss out in front of her. So he went in. He took up the bet and went inside the haunted old prison.

An hour. He just had to survive an hour in the creaky, dark, damp building.

That can't be so hard, right?

He steeled himself, laughed of the concerned looks, and went straight in. Ignoring the looming voice in the back of his head telling him to turn away.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him, a cold chill filled the air, and...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Wally could hear the slight dripping of an old pipe somewhere, but that was all.

The prison was just that. An old abandoned prison, falling apart on it's edges. That was it. Nothing more nothing less, and Wally laughed at himself for his stupid fear.

He zoomed through the building, going into every room. Looking at every nook and cranny. Taking pictures so make sure no one could say he stayed huddle at the door.

It wasn't until he reached the Warden's office that something happened.

It wasn't a big deal, Wally was just certain a draft knocked over one of those rotten wooden shelves. That's what the crash was, no need to fret. Wally absolutely didn't jump at the sound.

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, and pulled...

Nothing happened. The door refused to open. The knob turned, it wasn't locked. Yet it felt like door might be barricaded, so tightly that Wally couldn't even shove it an inch.

It only made Wally want to get in even more. He's been to every other inch of this prison, he wasn't going to let a rotten door stop him.

But then it happened. Translucent glowing green arms shot out of the wooden door, gripping at Wally's skin in an ice cold and bruising grasp.

He didn't scream. No, Wally shouted. That's all he did. It was manly, 100%, he just got a little jump scared that's it.

His comm crackled to life, and Wally could hear the voices of his team through thick static. He could barely make it out, what with trying not to get pulled into the door.

The old rotten door wasn't a door anymore. It swirled a glowing green and purple color, and the presence of it sent a chill down Wally's spine.

This time, as Wally felt the floor slipping from under him, Wally screamed. A blood curdling sound because this wasn't supposed to happen.

The speedster wasn't sure if he had just closed his eyes, or if he passed out. Yet, when he opened his eyes again he was in a prison.

A prison. Not The Prison.

The walls were a sickly purple grey, the sky above him was inky black with the occasional streak of green. And Wally realized very quickly, he wasn't on Earth anymore.

Maybe he should have been more concerned by the green beings dressed in riot gear circling around him. Or the fact that he was now wearing a grey and black jumpsuit, his super suit and mask completely missing.

But no. No the thing that sent a numbing wave of dread through was the man.

The man, who could barely be called a man, that loomed over him. Dressed in white and black suit. Whose skin was a deathly white.

An almost skeletal look to his face, yet Wally didn't doubt he strength and power in that man.

The man who called himself Warden Walker.

Walker wasted no time in listening a startling list of rules Wally had broken. Rules that would lead him to spend much too long trapped in this ghostly prison.

As much as Wally hated to admit it, that's what it was. Ghosts.

And he had no clue how to get free. Even as he was changed, and lead around the prison. To the mess hall. Even as Wally started down at the food that looked absolutely radioactive.

In this moment, Wally realized how screwed he truly was. Terrified of what would happen next. Would his friends try going into the prison after him?

How much time has even passed? Would his friends end up trapped here with him? Would they get worse treatment? How could a human be in a ghost prison?!

His spiraling panic and stressed came to a complete halt when she sat down. Grey skin and firey blue hair, Wally couldn't help but find her beauty enticing.

Her boyfriend, however, looked as if he could snap Wally in two. Looming forming, looking to be a metallic suit and firey green mohawk.

Wally really thought he was going to get the weirdest beat down of his life.

Except the conversation quickly shifter a plan for a riot. Talk of how to get Wally out of there. Leaving the speedster absolutely flabbergasted. Why would they help?

Every time Wally tried to ask the ghosts why, they kept brushing him off. Until finally he got an answer from Ember. Which only left him with more questions.

"Because the dipstick would be a bigger pain if we let a human stay here."

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contentloadingandstuff · 8 months

Text

Jealousy Bits - Zhongli, Diluc & Alhaitham x Fem!Reader

A/N: It's my second time writing for Fem!Reader, so C&C is more than welcome! CW: Alhaitham might be a little OOC.

Zhongli

Jealousy is a foreign concept for Zhongli. For eons his mind was preoccupied with more important matters than petty insecurity. Centuries passed, and never once have you given him a reason to worry. But as time passed and Zhongli, along with you, stepped down from his position, he started connecting more with his human side. He experienced many things he never got the chance to as a god - including a certain kind of longing.

"I'm leaving, dear!" You look over the contents of your purse, making sure everything necessary is contained within. Your hand moves to rest on the doorknob, but you pick up the sound of steady footsteps.

Turning back towards the living room, you see Zhongli standing in the corridor, his eyes resting on you. "If I may ask, where are you going today?"

"I managed to convince Ganyu to have a proper meal at Wanmin Restaurant. Poor thing needs to quit starving herself, don't you think?"

Smiling slightly, he nods. "Yes, that would be good for her health. Ever since the… choking incident, Ganyu has never been the same."

You both chuckle. Zhongli crosses his arms over his chest.

"I shouldn't keep her waiting. You know how anxious she tends to be." Once again, you turn towards the door.

Something sparks in his mind. The mental image of you, laughing and smiling with somebody else while he is alone evokes a specific feeling, an itch that urges him to keep you in place, here, with him. Zhongli wants to stop you, and he stretches out his arm, but thinks better of it. You turn the key in the door, and the sensation comes back. He feels the need to act.

Zhongli clears his throat. "I… I am having tea when you return. If you'd care to join me."

When your gaze meets his amber eyes, he seems unsure, and looks down at the floor in unusual embarrassment. His arm drops back down to his side. You approach him with a smirk, resting your hand on his chest.

"Aw, is someone jealous?" A slight blush forms on his face at your gentle touch.

"Perhaps." He answers after a moment.

You slide your hand into his, and squeeze it gently. It's warm and bigger than yours, his gloves adding a pleasant texture. Zhongli looks back at you when you cup his cheek with your other hand.

"It's okay. We'll take a nice bath when I return, have tea, and then… we'll see where the evening leads us." You plant a featherlite kiss on his lips, and send him a smile before turning to leave.

Before you can open the door, he speaks again.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you as well, Morax."

Diluc

Diluc cares only for those strangers he absolutely must, but he keeps his loved ones close. Although he keeps a steady facade suggesting otherwise, he gets possessive at times - just as anybody else. Cool as he is, Diluc won’t stop himself from acting upon his feelings with his characteristic decisiveness.

His eyes skim over the paper in his hand. Thirty barrels, twenty-seven million Mora - everything seems in order. He grabs the pen and scribbles his signature. The man thanks him and leaves shortly. Diluc sighs and rubs his temple.

It was supposed to be your night out. Just some casual drinks, grape juice for him and some light alcohol for you to finish off the work week. Despite explicitly stating that he is off-work, the recent delivery of Harra Fruit extract decided to arrive at that exact moment. With who the other party was, letting one of the staff handle him would be bad for his image. Begrudgingly, Diluc welcomed the merchant and finished the deal. Although he lost an hour or so, the evening was still salvageable.

The noble turns back from the loading bay towards the Angel’s Share back door, and pushes it open. His eyes see the familiar scene of many men and women enjoying their evening to the tune of a mediocre ballad, sounding out from the small stage. The notes are fine, but the occasional mishap doesn’t go unheard by his sensitive ears. Despite that, the tavern goers seem to pay no attention, possibly too drunk to notice. Still, if his memory serves him right, the last performer had far more lyrical talent.

He looks around the tables Venti frequents, but doesn’t find him there. Where did this rascal go-

“Y/N, do you perhaps wield the power of Anemo? Because your beauty blew me away!”

His eyes turn sharply towards the counter. The cyan-clad bard, his back leaning against the wood, smiles in satisfaction. In front of Diluc sees you, blushing slightly and giggling.

“That was… wow. Horrible.” You smirk. “But I’m sure you can do better.”

Diluc watches as Venti looks away, smiling, his mind rushing with ideas. He suddenly looks back at you, a wide smile on his lips. Barbatos clears his throat theatrically.

“It’s handy I have my library card on me, because I am totally checking you out!”

Both of you laugh. Diluc furrows his brows, and his heart starts beating faster. How can such crude humor make you laugh? You never laugh as hard at his jokes…

A small blush creeps up his face as he looks on, suddenly hyper-aware of his thoughts. He brushes the shame off. He is right - this evening was supposed to be “Diluc and Y/N talking and drinking” and not “Venti and Y/N talking and drinking while Diluc handles business”. There is no way the drunkard Archon steals your attention tonight.

“Two rounds, please! One for me, and one for the prettiest Windblume in this locale!” Venti says, raising two fingers.

Charles nods and reaches for the cups, but Diluc glares at him and shakes his head slightly. The bartender makes his understanding known and turns to a different client. The aristocrat looks around the tab record and quickly finds a small piece of paper, labeled with the bard’s name. Nine rounds… That would equal seven thousand three hundred Mora. Drawing another note, he writes down the numbers and places the paper inside a mug. He leaves the serving area and circles to approach you and Venti from the side.

The bard, too deep in his flirty conversation, fails to notice his approach. With a fairly loud sound, Diluc puts down the mug right next to Venti. His aqua eyes dart straight towards the tycoon.

“Oh! Hello master Diluc! How is the evening going?” The innocent tone that reaches Diluc’s ears annoys him even further.

“You ordered two drinks, I believe.” He walks in front of Venti, arms now crossed over his chest. “You will get them upon paying for the nine so far. If you don’t, I will ask you to leave. You’ve drunk enough.”

The mug is picked up, and Venti draws the paper. Upon looking at the sum, he smirks and puts the utensil down. “Why, of course! Let me get my coin pouch really quick.”

After patting his sides and drawing the leather container with a small Aha!, Venti peeks inside, and his confident smile turns into an awkward one. He chuckles.

“It seems that I forgot most of my Mora tonight, how unfortunate, truly! Can I just… add it to my account?” Venti looks at Diluc with big, puppy eyes. The man scuffs, unmoved.

“The one counting three hundred thousand Mora? Sure. If you pay it up now, that is. Do you have the money?”

The bard smiles nervously. “Ehe~” He turns to you. ‘My oh my! Look how late it is! Sleep is important, miss Y/N, and so I will rest now. Goodnight~”

Venti evacuates with practiced ease, Diluc’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. You turn to look at Diluc.

“Does he really drink this much…?” You ask, feeling a bit awkward after witnessing their interaction.

Your lover shrugs, and sits down on Venti’s place. He turns to you, a confident smile gracing his lips.

“Well, I’m here. What about your other two wishes?”

You smile and chuckle at his unexpected goofiness, covering your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing out loud. Diluc swears it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from you.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham holds most strangers in a neutral regard. Their squabbles, bold flirts and personal drama doesn't interest him, and as such rarely anything can get him possessive and needy. Someone flirts with you? You can handle things on your own. Spending less time with him? No matter, you have things to get done as well. Talking to another man? If he is nothing more than a coworker or a friend, it's none of his business. Despite this solid and logical reasoning, Alhaitham assumed he would be jealous at some point - just in case. Yet he expected a human to be the cause, and not… an animal.

A cat, to be precise.

It all started when, coming home from shopping, the two of you were approached by a stray. Alhaitham recalls the unfortunate creature resembled a wet, rotten rag more than an actual feline. It started meowing at you while rubbing its filthy face on your leg. Instead of repulsion, however, you felt pity for the animal. After a good five minutes of pressure and puppy eyes, Alhaitham agreed to take the cat in. On the condition that you would take responsibility and care for it, of course.

After being taken to Amurta veterinarians, who cleaned, bandaged and prescribed the right medication to the poor animal, it started resembling an actual cat. When the researchers confirmed that the cat would be fine, it was given a name, one that stuck in his mind ever since.

Alibaba.

Or Ali for short.

It was just as he expected, and true to what you promised. You fed the cat, cleaned his litter box, gave him medicine, played with and groomed him. Over time, Alibaba returned to his former glory. His fur grew back, now long and lustrous. It was mostly white, with light brown patches near his paws, tail, ears and mouth, perfectly complimenting his deep blue eyes. Alibaba soon got plump and lazy, which you found greatly adorable. He was an obedient cat with a loud purr and a gentleman's meow that stole more and more of your heart each time.

Alhaitham didn't pay much attention to your new pet. That is, he didn't until you started calling the cat names. It's normal, he knows that. That’s just what humans do with pets. But something about you calling Ali a “handsome boy” and a “gentleman” doesn't sit right with him. He gets those compliments on occasion, but Alibaba gets it daily for just existing…

He couldn't believe he was getting jealous over an animal. Just when he pushed the thought away, the creature already noticed his feelings. It started running away from Alhaitham, and moving away when he tried to pet it. Ali didn't even eat the food and treats he provided, but dined on yours just fine. The cat didn't restrain itself from looking smugly at Alhaitham while being praised and showered in affection by you, seemingly mocking your boyfriend.

The whole situation was silly, and he knew it. It was only right for him to resolve his jealousy in an equally amusing way.

One day, after returning from work, you were greeted by Alibaba, just as per usual. You went to put your things down on the table, the cat following your actions by jumping up on the furniture. It meowed, rubbing its face against your hand. You smile.

"Who's a handsome boy?" Alibaba meows in response. "That's right! You are!"

You move to the fridge, and grab a bag of cat food. The animal rubs its body all over your shins as you pour the food. After leaving Ali, absolutely inhaling the contents of his bowl, you go to the bedroom. You open the door and freeze.

On the bed, resting on his side, is the shirtless Alhaitham. The sight of his chiseled chest fills your eyes, and a small blush of surprise heats up your cheeks.

For a solid minute or so, you stand there, unsure of how to react to this unusual situation. Alhaitham looks at you with a slight smug.

"Am I a handsome boy as well?"

Thanks for reading!

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heeliopheelia · 8 months

Text

"how did we end up like this?" (heeseung x reader)

genre: angst to fluff word count: 1k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: ahhh i almost forgot how much i love writing angst and arguments 🤍 like i've said before, i wasn't planning on ending this on a happy note but i folded because... well, it's hee lmfao

masterlist

Your head is pounding from all the screaming and crying you've let out today.

Biting down on your lip harshly, you turn your head to the side to hide the tears forming in your eyes from your boyfriend. Eyeing the duffle bag you've laid out on your shared bed, you start throwing the messily folded clothes inside it.

"W-Wait, what are you-," Heeseung stops himself as he chokes on his own breath. With heart dropping into the deepest pit of his stomach, he walks up to you and grabs your elbow gently. He tries to ignore the way that your body stiffens underneath his touch but the sharp aching in his chest really makes it difficult. "Stop, please. That's not necessary, love."

"Oh, I think it's very necessary," you murmur with a sniffle, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your face.

Heeseung tries to move in front of you but you jerk your arm out of his touch and shake your head at him.

"Baby, don't. You know I didn't mean what I said–"

"I know," you interrupt him, trying to calm your shaky breath. "I know," you repeat, softer this time, "It's not that, Heeseung."

"Then what is it?" He asks, slightly dreading your answer as he watches your eyes widen with disbelief.

"Oh, c'mon now. All we ever do is fight all the goddamn time. We can't even go two days without getting to each other's throats. It's not healthy anymore, you've surely noticed that." Your trembling fingers attempt to stuff another shirt into your duffle bag but when another wave of hot tears blurs your vision completely, you give up on this task for and bury your face in your hands. "How did we even end up like this? When? We were always so good together. So why?"

"I'm sorry." Even though Heeseung's head is filled to the brim with running thoughts, this is the only thing he's able to come up with.

Hurting you was never the slightest possibility for him yet now he's standing seemingly frozen, watching the love of his life collect their stuff and about to leave him forever – and all he can do is try to figure out the answer to your question. Because, really, when has it all started going downhill? Heeseung could swear in a heartbeat that there's never been anyone who could make him happier than you do – and probably no one ever will, and yet he starts wondering whether convincing you to stay with him would only cause you more pain.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," you sniffle again, hands moving quickly to zip your bag. "We're both at fault here. No need to kick yourself down because of it, you know? Sometimes it just.... happens."

And he can't say anything because you're right. He can't say anything because there's absolutely nothing on his mind that could somehow make this situation better. He can't say anything because if he does, he'll only hurt you more and he can't have that when his heart is already this heavy with guilt.

So he watches helplessly as throw the bag over your shoulder, not sparing him even one look as you make you way out of the bedroom with your head hanging low, thick teardrops leaving a trace on the floor as you go. You're walking down the stairs and it'll be only a matter of seconds before you leave him and without even knowing how much he fucking loves you you'll be gone from his life.

With that thought and the fact that Lee Heeseung is a selfish man whose heart always has more control over him than his mind, he drops every single shred of reason and rushes down the stairs, long legs nearly tripping on the wooden steps.

He pushes his arm forward in the last second, shutting the door close just as your hand reaches the doorknob.

He's breathless, wide eyes looking at you with panic. "Don't go."

"Heeseung, I–," you stutter out, mind stalling as his warm hands come up to cup your wet face, fingers wiping your cheeks with the tenderness and affection that you've lacked so much for the past week.

And when he starts littering small, quite desperate, kisses all over your face, you can't help but cave into his touch, the duffle bag hitting the floor as it slides down your shoulder.

"Don't leave, baby," he pleads, hugging you even closer, even tighter when your tears seem to never come to an end. "Don't leave me, please. We'll fix it, we always do. I'll be better, I promise."

Your arms come up around his middle, fingers clenching on the fabric of his worn out t-shirt as you can't do anything else but cry in his embrace. He presses a kiss to your wobbly lips coated with salty tears, then another one and a next one after that.

"You're it for me, YN. I need you with me. By my side," he mumbles into your skin, his warm kisses never ceasing and successfully bringing comfort to your weeping heart. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you nearly whisper, words strangled with your tightened throat. He makes your head spin but you have no time to wonder if it's in a good or a bad way as his tongue makes its way inside your mouth, causing all of your thoughts to disappear within a mere second. "So much," you mutter into the kiss, hands coming up to run through his thick hair.

"Then stay with me, hm?" You nod your head quickly, tugging his neck closer as he pulls away from you slightly. "Yeah?" He needs you to confirm your statement before he gets his hopes too high and gets his heart broken in two. "You're not gonna leave me?"

And the another firm nod of your head is all that he needs, breath stuttering for a second before he draws you even closer in his arms and lets you pull his face to yours again, molding your lips together and willing to leave the scarring argument in the past to give your mending relationship yet another chance.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

#posting earlier then usually todaayyy #hope you guys didn't forget about me 😭#carly's 1k event ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა #1k event: requests ✎#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung drabbles #heeseung angst

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haykawas · 7 months

Text

✩•̩̩͙*˚ MONDAY – GETO SUGURU.

summary : you have five days to ask your hot tattooed boss out. better make it count.

word count : 1.3K tags : tattoo shop owner!suguru, modern au, pining, workplace AU, fem!reader, smoking.

MONDAY – TUESDAY

You nervously bit your lip as you considered going out the threshold, your right hand hovering over the doorknob as your thoughts went haywire. You knew what was behind – or rather, who was –, you knew you had to do something about it because you’d been having a stupid crush on the hot owner of your new workplace for a few months now and you just couldn’t seem to get him out of your system – and yes, it didn’t help that you literally saw him every day.

But honestly, who could blame you? Heavily tattooed – logical, seeing as he literally owned a tattoo parlor –, pierced, with long black hair and sparkling brown eyes, he surely was everyone’s dream man come true.

You wanted to do it right, go right to him, act cool and mysterious, and subtly ask him out while he smiled sheepishly, cheeks red at your forwardness.

But you knew you couldn’t, that all of this was in your head. For one, he was absolutely not the type to blush. He was the type to make people blush. Second, Suguru was the most popular one at the shop, and considering you also worked with certified heartbreakers like Satoru and Toji, it was something to say. But how couldn’t he be? He was sweet and charming, a smooth talker. He always had the right words and had to be the most patient man you’d ever met.

And of course, he was also smoking hot. It also didn’t help that all you managed to do when you came in less than a three-meter radius from him was act clumsy and stutter like a newborn learning how to speak. You were definitely aware of the situation. The fact that he was way way out of your league. And you’d have discarded the thought of asking him out if Satoru hadn’t infiltrated your mind and set your heart racing when he’d whispered to you that someone he knew was planning on asking his best friend out this Friday.

“I mean, have you seen the guy?” He’d said, a knowing smirk on his lips, “You have ‘till Friday to make a move, or you’re fucked.”

Today was Monday.

It was Monday, and of course, you still hadn’t said a single word to him. Sure, you two often found yourselves talking about work, new designs you’d come up with, and you had made sure to come to him every time you needed some advice, – and surprisingly, he’d also started doing so, setting your heart on fire every time he came to you –, but that was it. You two had never hung out together outside of work, even though you often had nights out with the others.

You shook your head and turned the doorknob, deciding you were going to stop acting like a schoolgirl with a stupid crush because it was honestly embarrassing. But then you saw him and immediately went back on your words.

God, he was just so effortlessly perfect. Who were you kidding? You could never stop acting this stupid when he looked like this.

He looked engrossed in a conversation, slender hands busy taping against the screen of his phone, a small grin on his lips, and you immediately considered going back inside. You were cringing inside, wondering what you were thinking coming back there when he was clearly busy.

But superior forces must’ve had other plans for you, because before you could make a hasty retreat inside the shop, your foot caught on a loose cobblestone, causing you to stumble and knock off a stack of empty crates.

You froze, the crates clattering and crashing to the ground. If he hadn’t heard you before, he sure had now. You sighed, lifting your eyes to see him, a cigarette casually hanging from his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he beckoned you over with a nod and an amused smile. You looked left and right to see if he was calling someone else over, but quickly realized there was no one else outside. Your head turned to him, cheeks burning from embarrassment as he chuckled at your action. “Care to join me?” He added with a smile, before taking a long drag out of his burning stick.

You bit your lip and complied, leaning against the wall right next to him, as you tried holding in violent coughs, the smoke hurting your lungs. You were silent and must have been staring at the cigarette he was gracefully holding too intently, because he suddenly held it out to you, “You smoke?”

You melted at the sound of his voice, rich and gentle. And, no. No, you didn’t smoke. You absolutely didn’t and you’d never even wanted to try it.

So you couldn’t understand why the hell you were telling him that yes, you did, that you were an expert at rolling blunts at that, like you’d done this your entire life, when even the fruity smokes from fairs made you sick to your stomach. But… you didn’t want to tell him that no, that you found it repulsive at best. Besides… you kind of wanted to try it, now. See why he loved it so much. It couldn’t be that bad if he did, right?

You weren’t sure about that. But honestly, you didn’t even care if it gave you the chance to stand that close to him and share a moment, as short and insignificant as it may have been, with the man you’d been pining after for a while now.

You accepted the cigarette when he handed it to you, clumsily gripping it between two fingers as you stared at it hesitantly. You didn’t know how you looked right now, but you hoped you came across as at least a quarter as confident as he did. You know you didn’t, because as soon as you took your first drag, you started coughing uncontrollably, the smoke burning your throat as you gasped for fresh air.

“Definitely an expert at this, are you?” He teased, his focused gaze not leaving your form one bit as he took the stick back from your hand to place it between his plush lips. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke in your direction, and his eyes crinkled with amusement as he watched you try not to cough it all out. His lips curled into a playful smile, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip as he watched your flustered form. You were just so damn cute.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice lower, “smoking’s not for everyone. I’m sure you must be an… expert, at something else.” He winked, his gaze lingering longer than necessary as he took you in from head to toe before he met your eyes once again.

Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of his words, heart racing as you tried to decipher what he must’ve meant by that. Surely it was innocent.

…Right?

The man suddenly straightened up, his playful demeanor shifting as he glanced at his watch. “Well,” he sighed, “break time’s over for me.” He casually tossed the half-smoked cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his Doc Martens boot.

You nodded at him with a smile, but couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at the prospect of the conversation coming to an end so soon. This was the longest you’d ever found yourself alone with him, and you hadn’t even come close to asking him out. But before you could say a word, he met your eyes with a knowing smile.

“If you ever want to experience new things, though…” he dragged out, hawk eyes not leaving yours, “you know where to find me.” The suggestion hung in the air long after the door swung shut behind him, and you let yourself slide against the wall of the alley, lightheaded. A few words from his soft lips had been all it took to make you lose your cool.

Oh, you were so fucked.

…And you still hadn’t confessed. Damn you, Suguru Geto.

AN : ok soo i actually haven't posted a fic about any fandom since like 2016/2017 so i'm back to stage 1 lmao. english is not my first language so i may update my posts sometimes to correct things a little too!! plus it hasn't been proofread yet bc it's 1am where i live rn so yeah. this os is actually meant to have followups, so if people like it i'll work on more parts for this (idk if this'll show up in searches since it's a new blog tho but oh weLL) (it was actually meant to be a drabble but i went overboard) (i still had to force myself to stop writing more)

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wherewritersgotodie-blog · 1 month

Text

I’ll never hurt you (Spencer Reid x Reader)

spencer reid can’t help but get involved when a guy moves into your apartment and he hears the fighting between you two escalate. he never meant for it to go farther.

warnings: relationship abuse. nudity. no smut. harsh language. angst

pookie wookie bear // draft from a few months ago

You moved in early September. Spencer met you the first week you came in, which you were in the process of unloading large brown boxes and small beige baskets of things into your apartment. Your first impressions of him were that he stuttered, rambled and, of course, was absolutely gorgeous.

He helped you unpack, after asking if it was alright, and the two of you had a friendly relationship going forward.

He took special note of your schedule. You'd leave around eight in the morning in a sweater and scarf with your hair up, a leather bag of textbooks, notebooks and a shiny grey laptop on your shoulder, and come home around eight p.m., makeup slightly worn and hair much softer and less organized than the morning, now in the same jacket as when you left, but a work uniform underneath, possibly for a barista or waitress. Your apron would be slung over your shoulder and your bag would have the scarf and sweater hanging partially out the side, and you'd always have this tired, sunken look in your eyes, but it was always replaced by bright cheeks and a smile in the morning.

You noticed his pattern, too. Always leaving in a nice jacket or button-down, sometimes to disappear for days. You always wondered where he went, but your interactions were bound to greetings and curtesies and not much else, mostly due to your nervousness around each other.

In November, a man started to come around every so often. Spencer had picked up from your chipper, however strained, greetings of him that his name was Ben.

By December, he was around every day. Spencer saw through the peephole boxes being carried to the apartment once again.

He decided not to think of it much. You were just a pretty girl who lived on his floor, meant to be with big, meaty guys like Ben. He couldn't help but wonder if he was smart enough for you, intense enough for you.

It wasn't until January that the yelling began. There would be nights where he could hear masculine yelling through the walls, these growling barks of words he couldn't always make out. He'd heard a few things, like, "Fuckin' bitch!" and "Stupid cunt!" Once, he even heard something along the lines of, "If you care so much what the neighbor thinks, why don't you go over there and fuck him!"

The quips were enough to make his blood sear red-hot, his eyes twitch and head ache.

One day, he hadn't heard your light, quick footsteps down the stairs, and he knew Ben had left had the night before because he had slammed the door behind him and said "Slut" just as he passed Spencer's door and pounded down the stairs. Spencer didn't sleep that night, waiting for Ben to return, but he never did. He wasn't sure what his plan was when he did return, but he knew something had to be done.

He decided to come to your door in the morning, alarmed that you were still in around 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday.

He knocked three times, then stood with his hands in his pockets. He heard your feet scamper to the door, then stop just in front.

"Spencer?" you asked, he assumed you were looking through the peephole. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, can I just," he paused, "Can I come in a second?"

"Uhm," you exhaled, "Now's not a good time."

"I just," he paused again, "I wanted to talk to you."

"What about?" you asked.

He became so alarmed by this answer, mind racing with every possible scene that could be behind the door. Maybe Ben had returned, he thought, maybe he was forcing you to stay home. Maybe you were crying, maybe he had hurt you. Maybe he had a gun on you at this very moment.

In a moment of complete irresponsibility and thoughtlessness, he touched the doorknob. When it gave way, he pushed himself through the door.

Ben was nowhere to be found, but you were, standing in front of him, eyes dry, but puffy from obvious crying, yellow makeup caked below your right eye, purple showing from underneath.

It was worse than he imagined, the feeling of seeing you in such a way.

"Oh, (Y/N)," he whispered.

When he looked at you with such sympathy, you broken entirely. You ran into his chest, shoulders shaking with sobs. "I couldn't," you breathe, "I couldn't cover the," again, "I can't go to class, I had to call out of work, I," you whispered, "I don't know what to do."

He just held you there, swaying back and forth, rubbing your hair. This was the first time he had seen it down.

"Look at me," he whispered.

You peered up at him with those red, glistening eyes, face swollen, hair stuck to the tears on your cheeks.

"You've gotta kick him out," he whispered, "You have to."

"I can't- he's- he's a cop," your voice wavered, "I'm a- I'm a fucking barista."

"I'm a federal agent," he stated.

You breathed out. "He'll," you pause, then whisper in a deadly flat voice, "He'll kill me if I make him leave."

He breathes, then whispers, staring deep into your eyes, hands on each side of your face. "I'll kill him if he touches you ever again."

He pulled you into his chest again, once again assuming the rocking motion from before, rubbing your back with one hand and stroking your hair with another.

This was easily ten minutes, possibly more. Then, the door handle jiggled. "Let me in, (Y/N)," Ben spoke, "I'm sorry, please let me talk to you."

Spencer whispered into your ear, "Go stand by the kitchen," and you did so.

Spencer then unlocked the door, then stepped as far as possible from the door, a few paces from you. He whispered to you, his head over his shoulder.

"It's open," he whispered.

"It's open!" you yelled, voice shaky.

When Ben walked in, his eyes went first to Spencer, then to you.

"What the fuck," he breathed, "You fucking bitch, you're cheating on me with this fucking asshole?"

"I'm not cheating on you," you spoke in a mousy tone.

"Oh, yeah? So you didn't fuck this guy?" he asked, stepping to get a better look at you.

"No," you spoke, not looking at him.

"Don't lie to me, bitch, fucking look at me," he stepped towards you.

Then, Spencer pulled a handgun from his pocket and pointed it at him.

"Don't fucking go near her."

"Oh my God, you're gonna fucking shoot me?" he laughed. "I'm a cop."

"I'm a federal agent, dick," Spencer glared intensely at Ben, your eyes stuck to Spencer.

"Oh, fuck, you're one of those BAU assholes?" he asked with a smirk on your face, "Well aren't you just a fuckin' angel?" He turned you, then says, "Have fun with this pussy, you're not worth the fucking energy." With that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ran to the door, locked it again, then returned to you.

"This is just temporary," he whispered, "I'm gonna get him put in jail for a long time."

You stared at him for a long time, then in a hushed tone said, "I'm gonna shower," you paused, then, quieter, said, "Do you want to come with me?"

He stares at you for a moment, blinking, then asks, "Do you want that?"

"Yes," is all you say, then grab his hand slowly, interlocking your fingers, pulling him to your bathroom. When you get there, you take off your tank-top first, which you have nothing underneath. Then you pull down your jeans, then your underwear. Spencer watching this entire process, not moving a muscle but his eyes. They wander across your body, then settle on your hips, which have a faded yellow bruise on the side. He winces, but then is washed by the sight of your bare skin. You're exactly as he imagined: soft, firm, perfectly balanced.

He then began to unbutton his skirt, peeling it over his shoulders. He was tall, slender, sculpted, but gentle looking so much more beautiful than Ben. His belt jingled as he unbuckled his pants, then pulled them down with his underwear, too, leaving both of you bare.

He closed the proximity of your bodies to kiss you, his hands around your head. He then pulled away to rest his forehead on yours and rub his thumbs on your cheeks.

You stepped into the shower and he followed.

He didn't try to touch you explicitly. He didn't press you against the shower wall, didn't choke you or whisper sick things about you into your ear. He didn't press himself into you or turn you around to fuck you from behind.

Instead, he took a handful of shampoo and began to wash your hair.

He first pushed your head back so it was full emerged in the water pressed his fingers along your scalp, allowing the water to seep into all the strands of hair. Then, he lathered shampoo in his hands and began to wash your hair. He turned you around so you were facing away from him, but he didn't touch you anywhere but your head. You instinctively tilted your head back to lean slightly towards his chest, eyes closed. You could hear his breath hitch. When he was done, he turned you around again, then tilted your head under the water again. When your hair was fully rinsed, you brought your head up so your eyes met his. You then kissed him again. Your hands slowly, shaking, trailed down his chest to his stomach. You trailed your fingertips along his waist, then pulled him towards you by his hips. He lifted his hands to your face again.

He looked deep into your eyes with his dark brown ones and whispered, “I’ll never hurt you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader

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