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rayaswrittings · 6 months

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I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.

After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

#sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #sam golbach smut #sam golbach fanfic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby x reader #Colby x reader smut #colby brock x reader #youtuber #smut #best friends #friend to lovers

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arafilez · 23 days

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੭୧ ⼂ OH? CROCHETING ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ skz ot8 x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff, estb. relationship 𓏧 reaction ㅤ warnings none ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k / mem wc ㅤ𓏧 ㅤ req

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ BANG CHAN ꒱

Chan opens the door to the apartment and says, “I am back,” in a sweet manner and an adorable grin, only for everything to go futile. He doesn’t hear you answer him making him tilt his head in confusion. He looks around and notices a dim light from the bedroom door despite the dark living room.

It is too early for you to be sleeping!

He keeps his bags down and walks towards the bedroom slowly prying the door open and a gasp leaves his mouth at the adorable scene that unfolds in front of him. You, lying on the bed, eyes closed and soft snores leaving your mouth and a half-done crochet top in your hands.

He walks towards you slowly, and gently removes your fingers off the pastel green material, giggling at how cute the sweater looks and then looks at you. He circles his arms around your waist trying to get you to a sleeping position but that gets you up as you jerk up.

“Woah, okay love, slow down," he replies and you stare at him, still in a bit of a haze as he coos at you, “Let’s get you to sleep, my crocheting star.”

“Mhm, good idea,” you whisper making him stare at you with half-moon eyes before a full-blown smile etches his face and he pulls you closer to get comfortable.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ LEE MINHO ꒱

Minho comes back home and his eyes narrow at his two cats sitting on the floor with crocheted cat sweaters on them. They nuzzle against his ankles and he crouches down and pats their heads saying, “Where’s Doongie?” Where is his third cat anyway?

“I can’t believe you come home and the first thing you ask for is Doongie and not the person who made those?” you fake-scoff making Minho turn in his heels and look at you holding Doongie, who is happily nuzzling against your arms. He purrs lightly in his sage green clothing and on top of it stays in your arms when Minho tries to take him.

“Someone appreciates this, at least,” you smile making Minho roll his eyes affectionately. He gently pries Doongie off your arms and places a chaste kiss on your lips saying, “Yeah, but I love you so that makes up for everything.”

“Hm, does it?” you tease but kiss him back as his head leans against yours and he holds your waist, stroking gentle lines against it. As you part away you watch him take out his phone and take pictures of his three cats before sending it to his friends.

“They look so cute,” he giggles looking at the matching and adorable sweaters and then turns to you, “You’re so cute.” “And you’re cheesy,” you giggle as he laughs along with you in the quiet home.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ SEO CHANGBIN ꒱

Changbin enters the apartment after his evening gym routine only to find it oddly quiet. He looks around and spots the muted T.V. and you lying down on the couch with a half-done crochet top in your hands.

He smiles at your adorable figure with an equally adorable piece in your hand before he walks up to you and sits beside you. Closing down the show, he picks out his phone and clicks a picture of you. His giggles are what wakes you up and you blink before getting up.

Rubbing your eyes you ask, “Binnie, when did you get here?” “Long enough to see you sleeping with that and take the cutest pictures in the world. I might win a Guinness World Record for capturing the cutest person.” You slap his arm and he laughs as you look down at the half-made top in your hands and feel the tiredness taking over.

Putting your head on his shoulder as he rounds his arm around your figure asking, “Tired?” “Yes, gonna finish this tomorrow,” you yawn halfway through your sentence and he replies, “Okay cutie, let’s so sleep.”

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ HWANG HYUNJIN ꒱

“Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin,” you jump around excitedly as soon as he enters the room and looks at you, a small smile etching his face at your sight. You are wearing a fluffy crochet cap, is that what it is called, Hyunjin wonders and a piece of crochet material is lying on the table in front of you.

His loose clothes on your body makes him giggle as you happily bounce towards him saying, “Look what I made.” His eyes land on the hat and the pale colour and intricate designs and he says, “It’s adorable!”

“I know, right?” you jump and he holds you and kisses your lips lightly making you calm down. “Let’s take some pictures,” you nod happily at his idea before you two pose for the camera and take them at weird angles just to get a good laugh.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ HAN JISUNG ꒱

“Baby, this is hard,” Jisung’s whine doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you finish the sweater you were making and grin at him. “That is because you are new at it,” you say making him pout more.

He tries for a good fifteen minutes before slumping back on the couch and keeping the crochet hook and yarn down. “Woah, did I finally find something Han Jisung, our ace, is bad at?” you giggle as he glares at you.

“I am not bad, I simply don’t have the patience right now,” he replies making you shrug, “Same difference.” You laugh loudly as he pounces on your body, tickling you, god knows how he found your weirdest tickle spots too, making you squirm and apologise at his giggly face.

Needless to say, a week later Jisung pops into your work-room with a smirk on his face and a fully crocheted sweater in his hands with the most intricate design as you stare in awe. “Told ya,” he says with a smug smile as you stare at it dumbfounded. He truly is an ace.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ LEE FELIX ꒱

Felix tiptoes into your room to surprise you after work but the scene takes him by surprise instead. He chuckles lightly at you, currently asleep with a plushie beside you and a crochet piece on your lap. Fishing out his phone he quickly takes some pictures and then wakes you up to make you sleep properly.

The next morning you wake up to a smiley Felix as you stretch lightly and ask, “Why are so shining before the sun baby?” “Because of you,” he replies making you snort, “Cheesy ass.”

“I took some interesting pictures yesterday,” he whispers before reaching out for it and you blink trying to adjust to the light. You look beside at his cheeky grin and a picture of you sleeping which is clearly from last night making you gasp. Holy shit! You are drooling there and that picture is literally his homescreen? Is he out of his mind?

“Lee Yongbok, you will remove that from your home screen right now,” you say, trying to climb over him in vain as he pouts, “What no, you look so cute.” “I am drooling,” you reason, eyes moving frantically and he kisses you before you burst into palpitations saying, “Yeah that is why it is only for my eyes to see love.”

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ KIM SEUNGMIN ꒱

Seungmin enters the building and reaches the apartment putting in the lock-code. He looks around in confusion as the empty living room greets him and your abandoned slippers lie on the floor. “Y/n?” he calls once before his eyes land on the dim light coming from the bedroom door.

Walking towards it he looks inside as he watches you sleep with a small crochet top half-done. He chuckles lightly as he watches a bit of drool around the corner of your lips. Softly sitting down on the bed, he leans to the side and strokes his fingers over your cheek. You hum in your sleep leaning into his touch making him look at you endearingly.

He shakes you lightly and the movement makes you open your eyes, a hazy vision of Seungmin’s face and you stifle a yawn saying, “Hi.” “Crocheting?” he asks, in a soft and quiet tone and you murmur ‘yes’ and tilt your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your waist easily.

“Keeping this aside for tomorrow,” he murmurs to mostly himself as he shuffles around in the bed, your light snores reaching his ears. He holds you and your head nuzzles against his neck as you two get into a comfortable nap.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ YANG JEONGIN ꒱

“Never making stuff with you ever again,” Jeongin complains making you roll your eyes at him. All this drama is because of a crochet hook. “I would rather die than crochet,” he continues and you sigh, there he goes again!

“Yang Jeongin you are insufferable,” you whisper lightly tapping his cheek as he narrows his eyes and says, “How are you doing it anyway?” “By having patience and not sighing with every minor inconvenience,” your snarky reply makes him grin and say, “Well there is my talented person.”

“Buttering me into completing yours won’t work,” you exclaim and he promptly replies, “How about a nice little date with greasy popcorn and cheesy rom-com?”

“Keep talking, it might be working,” you reply and he takes the opportunity to slide his arms around you saying, “All for my pretty baby.” “A kiss on lips and sold,” you whisper making him peck you immediately and you giggle, “Fine we can do this later.”

He enthusiastically puts the items away before running to bring popcorn as you select a show.

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤi am sorry but i don’t even know if this is good. i am sorry for the wait too but it was written in the guide i searched up pictures to get what you mean and I hope you like it. ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @kyrjnie ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 9 Prompt: Gift Giving 🧸 ~ 1,500 words you and Eddie exchange presents.

“Okay,” Eddie plops down next to you on the floor with a huff. “You wanna open ‘em now, or wait til we get back from dinner?”

“Now,” you reply giddily, besotted and full of happiness. He smirks at you, one dark eyebrow raised in amusement at your moony expression.

“Damn, sweetheart, I’d say you’re more excited about the presents than you are about me.”

You swat at his arm playfully, shaking your head. “I’m excited to give you a gift, dummy, I don’t care about getting one.”

“Uh-huh,” he says facetiously, eyes wide. “Sure you are.”

You merely roll your eyes in response, lips turning up in an indulgent smile. Eddie’s lovely, and you really like him, and there’s a small, tender corner of your heart that’s nudging you further and further towards something bigger, although you’re not quite ready to acknowledge it yet.

Still, it’s there, and during certain moments will make itself known, like when he drops you off at your front door and gives you that last chaste kiss goodnight. This kiss, of course, comes at the end of a much longer series of much heavier kisses that are stolen in Eddie’s van, as it idles on the curb a block away from your house, out of sight from your parents’ prying eyes. But it’s that final peck that gets you, the feel of his full lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “‘Night, angel.” The little smile he gives you as he pulls away, doe-eyes locked onto yours in a soft gaze, and you’re left wanting, but he leaves promising.

He always turns back to look at you when he walks away.

“Do you wanna go first, or should I?” Eddie leans back against the couch, crossing his legs, arm thrown over one cushion. He tugs casually at the deliberately-ripped collar of his black t-shirt, the picture of ease.

“Open yours first,” you tell him, reaching out to play with one of the curly tendrils draped over his shoulder. “Please,” you add sweetly.

He chuckles. “Well, since you asked so politely…”

Eddie loops one ringed finger through the handles of the shiny gift bag you brought for him, dragging it across the rug towards himself. It’s funny, the sight of Eddie in his dark clothing and chains, holding the dainty pink bag, which is overflowing with sprays of delicate, glitter-specked tissue paper. But he’s unphased by the pretty thing, excitement glinting in those dark irises as he eyes up his present.

“Hmmm…what could this be?”

His expression becomes comically quizzical, face creasing in a squint. Instead of tearing into it the way you expected him to, he holds the bag up next to his ear and gives it a shake.

“Nice try, Sherlock. But it’s a soft gift.”

“No hints! I can figure it out.”

He grins at you teasingly, palpating the bag with his hands, trying to get a feel for what’s inside. You can’t help laughing at his antics.

“Just open it!”

Eddie’s cheeks dimple, and he bites his bottom lip through his smile, a look that makes your stomach flutter. He relents, and starts pulling the layers of tissue out of the bag, tossing them carelessly on the floor behind him. You make a mental note to pick them up and fold them neatly away later.

Once the top layer of paper is gone, Eddie peers inside the bag curiously. His brows furrow in confusion for a moment, and then he understands. His eyes light up and he jams a hand down inside, triumphantly yanking his gift out.

“You learned how to do it!” he hollers.

You bow your head modestly, and say nothing. You’ve spent the past few months secretly teaching yourself to crochet — he knows it’s something you’ve long been interested in trying, and you finally felt inspired to take it up when you realized that your Eddie does not own a single piece of outerwear, save for his leather jacket, and an old parka that he only wears when it’s so cold that he’d actually “rather look like a dweeb than freeze.”

The handmade scarf is tightly-stitched, soft, and deep red in color. Eddie holds it in his hands as though it was spun from gold.

“I love it,” he says, and without missing a beat, immediately wraps it around his neck, and tosses one tasseled-end over his shoulder dramatically. “Thank you, baby.”

“It’s a little wobbly at the ends,” you admit apologetically, “and I had a hard time with the first row, so it looks a bit —”

He cuts you off with a kiss, cupping your cheek gently in his palm, thumb rubbing reassuring circles over your cheekbone. “It’s perfect,” he states firmly.

You fall silent, willing yourself not to verbalize the stream of worry that threatens to spill out. Instead, you manage, “Is the color alright?”

“I love the color,” he reassures you.

“I thought maybe it would look nice with all your black.”

“It definitely will! Shit, I’m gonna look so stylish. I have an original, one-of-a-kind garment right here,” he brags, running his hands over the length of the scarf luxuriously. His movements slow, and he looks at you intensely, face becoming serious. “You…I can’t believe you really made this for me.”

You cock your head to the side, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Eddie seems at a loss for words, opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it again. Finally, he says quietly, “That’s a lot of time. And effort.”

You scoot closer to him, so the side of your body is pressed against his, and wrap your arm around his waist. Resting your chin atop of his shoulder, you nuzzle his cheek, nose brushing against his soft skin. “Worth every second. I’ll make you a hat, and mittens, too,” you whisper.

“I’m holding you to that,” he whispers back, eyes warm and wet-looking, closing the gap between yourselves with another kiss. He sighs through parted lips, cupping the back of your head, feeling almost-dizzy with affection. He manages to pull back, before he loses himself completely in you — something far, far too easy to do, easier with you than it’s ever been with anybody else. Once, that might have terrified him. But as he stares into your sweet face, he thinks that he’s never been so sure of anything in his life.

He’ll follow you anywhere, he’s sure. If you let him.

“Open yours now,” he murmurs. “Before I have to carry you to the bed back there.”

A tingle runs up your spine at those words, heat blooming in your cheeks. But you do as he says, and pull the gift from Eddie towards you.

It’s a flat, rectangular package, covered in red wrapping paper. It’s a suspiciously neat-looking wrap job for Eddie’s hands; you suspect Wayne might’ve helped him with this bit. You feel a swell of affection for the Munson men at the thought of it, and smile as you take the gift into your lap.

Deciding not to mimic Eddie’s dramatic unboxing, you instead carefully run a finger underneath the seam of the paper, peeling off the Scotch-taped flap. The wrappings come away easily, then, and you unravel it to the sight of a wooden picture frame’s backing board. Intrigued, you flip it over to the correct side.

Behind the glass, there’s a line drawing of a vase of flowers in black ink, simple but with the scratchy details of an erratic hand. Gentle dabs of soft-looking watercolor paints incorporate pops of color into the pretty blooms, and there’s a satin ribbon hot-glued to the frame, so it can be hung on the wall, over a nail or a hook.

You gaze at the drawing in awe; you’d recognize that style anywhere.

“Guess we both went the homemade route this year, huh?” Eddie asks, sounding uncertain.

When your eyes flit back to him he looks a little embarrassed, his cheeks sweetly pink, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “You always tell me how much you like my doodles, the stuff I draw for D and D,” he explains. “So I thought…maybe I could make something specially for you.”

“Oh.” You feel like you could cry. “It’s beautiful.”

“You really think so?” he asks shyly.

“Yes! I love it, Teddy,” both of you visibly softening at the utterance of his pet name. You take one of his hands, kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

“Pretty flowers for my pretty girl,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I picked some wildflowers in the woods over there for a reference. I’ll give you those, too.”

Something clicks into place; some hidden piece inside of you righting itself, and you wonder at the feeling, not even having realized that anything was awry until this very moment.

“I love you, Eddie.”

It’s blurted out, without thinking — immediately, you bring a hand up to your lips, eyes wide. “I — I’m sorry, I —”

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie breathes, inching even closer. “Don’t ever be sorry for telling me that.”

His lips at your ear. “I love you too, dummy.”

You fall together in a heap on the floor.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Part 5 of kidnapper/kept pet series:

You’re trying again with Johnny.

Or, more accurately, Simon is going to bring Johnny over so that you can (hopefully) adjust to him. Desensitize, at least. Warm up, best case scenario. Simon knows better than to get his hopes up.

He tries to set up for success though. Tells you that he’s bringing Johnny over this time. You make an annoyed noise, scrunch up your face. But he can see a little bit of intrigue in your eyes. You really could use a little more socializing.

He preps Johnny this time too. Reminds him that your shy (standoffish) and cautious (feral). Not to make any sudden movements towards you, or try to grab at you. If you come near enough to touch (unlikely) it’s in his hand’s best interest to let you make first contact.

“Be patient, she’ll come ‘round,” he reminds as he lets Johnny in.

And you, in pure spiteful fashion, are no where to be found. Simon sets Johnny up with a beer and goes searching, finds you curled up on the sun porch angrily crocheting.

“Time to come inside, feral.”

“But he’s here.”

“He’s not so bad, I like him.”

“Exactly.”

You fuss and grumble, but ultimately there’s very little you can do when he scoops you up. He brings you inside, your crocheting things in one hand, you secure with the other. Johnny watches your little parade with arched eyebrows. But he doesn’t say anything.

You get deposited on the couch, a scritch to the back of the head that makes you scowl even as you lean in a bit. Johnny has taken up residence in an armchair a healthy distance from you. When you eye him distrustfully, he chuckles and pulls his shirt collar aside.

“No tags this time, stray.”

You scoff and turn back to your crafting. Simon takes the other end of the couch, knows you’re a bit keyed up today. There, but not imposing on your treasured personal space. You settle in, more or less, though your eyes keep flicking to Johnny while he and Simon talk.

He’s much different from Simon; it’s why he wants you two to at least tolerate each other. You need the enrichment. He louder, brasher, more energetic. Eventually, you slink off to the kitchen for a snack.

“Grab us another beer, eh?” He calls.

You stalk out with a scowl. “I’m not a dog, get it yourself.”

Simon huffs with amusement as you curl up on the couch again, nibbling on your snack. Johnny points at you, empty beer in hand.

“You’re ill-mannered.”

“Says the guy that doesn’t know ‘please’.” You hop off the couch and retreat to your room.

Simon shakes his head, though his eyes crease with amusement. “Keep fucking around and you’re gonna find out. Again.”

“You spoil her,” Johnny complains.

Simon sighs. He still doesn’t get it.

“She’s not a pet, yeah? I’m just keeping her.”

“What the difference?” Johnny groans, standing to get another beer.

“A cat is a pet. A panther is not.”

“Och, and she’s a panther, is that it?” Johnny rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want her domesticated, Johnny. I want her taken care of just the way she is. If you’d stop pissing her off, you’d see why.”

Johnny grumbles, but lets it go. Lets the thought sit. Considers all the things in this specially made house just for you. The tv, the overcrowded bookshelves. The plants for you to attend to and the craft supplies lying about. The room that is yours alone, off limits to johnny, even simon rarely enters.

When you emerge again, it’s because there’s food. You’re hungry and demand a plate from simon, hovering at his elbow while he makes it up for you.

Johnny makes more of an effort, keeping all the things Simon told him in mind. He knows your unlikely to speak to him unless antagonized, so he talks at you - a lot like how Simon did when you first started out.

Luckily for him, Simon’s paved most of the way for him here. At first you pretend to ignore him, but eventually you can’t help it, he is a very engaging story teller after all. So you end up watching him openly, eyes darting from his face to his waving hands to his shaking shoulders.

You’re so focused that he and Simon even manage to coordinate Johnny giving you dessert, him getting close enough to touch as you take the slice of cheesecake from his hand. He’s careful not to touch, doesn’t want to break this spell.

But the real victory of the evening comes when he’s actually stopped paying direct attention to you. He’s still got some cheesecake left, more focused on talking than eating, as usual. And unnoticed, you slip from your chair, circle him and…

“Oi, did you just-? Get back here!”

In a move of pure strategic genius, you tuck up behind Simon. First out of caution and a little genuine fear for his reaction, then when you see him floundering, out of safe smugness.

“Ah, yeah, should have warned you about that. She likes to ‘share’.”

Several times now, you’ve eaten directly off his plate, off his spoon, from his fingers, even. You especially like doing it when you think he’s not paying attention.

“Feral brat,” Simon chuckles, “I would have gotten you more.”

“Tastes better when it’s Johnny’s,” you reply.

#my writing #cod #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#ghost x reader #simon x reader #x reader #john soap mactavish #dark fic

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mikkomacko · 9 months

Text

Straight From a Romance Novel

Pairing: Nico Hischier x female reader

Summary: Nico's trying to get his girls attention but is thrown for a loop when she's more interested in the book she's reading. After prying, he finds out why

Warnings: smut, literally the whole thing is just smut lol, cursing

A/n: Uncanny timing that I finish this as the whole book tok thing is happening but this has nothing to do with hockey romance novels lol...still funny timing though.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

The house in Switzerland is always quieter than their home in Jersey. Without their friends and teammates running around, chatting and laughing over music or something on the tv, the calm house almost feels empty. And for a moment, Nico thinks it might be. The kitchen is empty, any remaining presence of the large dinner you shared only a couple hours before has been wiped clean, revealed only by the humming dishwasher.

He finds the living room empty as well, the tv off and couch cushions missing ruffles and dents in the spot she usually curls up on. Every throw pillow and blanket is perfectly fluffed and placed. He doesn’t even bother checking the sunroom attached to the living room, seeing that the room is dark and the glass door most likely locked.

Usually she sprawls out on the patio furniture there when he goes for his evening run, watching the sun set and painting her nails or crocheting. Sometimes he even comes home to her asleep out there, the open windows blowing the summer breeze in, carrying the sounds of chirping crickets with it.

Nico takes a swig of his water bottle, gripping the hem of his sweaty shirt and lifting it to wipe at his mouth. He decides to just rip off the soiled cloth, pulling it over his head and swiping at his damp chest and neck. Still trying to rid himself of sweat, he drags the fabric down his abdomen and around to his back, moving down the hallway as he does so.

It’s the warm smell of vanilla that leads him to her, it’s aroma drifting into the hall. He smiles, let’s the scent soak into his nose and lungs, stirring up thoughts of her. It’s her favorite, vanilla. It’s in her perfume, her hair products, her lotions and oils, probably even her deodorant.

Through the open door he spots her, nestled into a stack of pillows against the headboard of their shared bed. Her hair is pulled back in a loose braid that falls over her shoulder, messy and half undone because she always tugs out pieces to twirl around her finger as she gets ready for bed. Sweater paws hold a book out in front of her, the string of whatever hoodie she snagged from him pinched between her teeth. And sure enough, a vanilla candle burns on the nightstand next to her.

Nico steps into the room, admires the look of concentration on her face as he carelessly kicks his shoes off by the dresser. She doesn’t react to him, instead flips the page and drags her eyes across the first paragraph. He approaches the side of the bed, laying his wet shirt over his shoulder as he cups the back of her head. She hums distractedly, leans a bit towards him but doesn’t dare stop reading. He knows she likes to end chapters before bed so he simply presses a kiss to her temple and right below her ear. Her skin is hot and dewy under his lips, most likely from the sweater she’s wearing and he makes a mental note to get it off of her the moment he crawls into bed.

But for now he disappears into the master bathroom, shrugging off his clothes and dropping them in the hamper. A quick cool shower refreshes him, eases his bones and muscles to the point that he feels like jello when he enters the bedroom again. She’s still in the same spot on the bed, nose in her book but he’s hoping the sight of him crossing their room in nothing but a towel will catch her attention.

Nico digs out a pair of boxers, dropping his towel so he can pull them up his legs. Once the band sits low on his hips he pretends to fix his hair in the dresser mirror, utilizing the chance to peek at her in the reflection. To his utter dismay, she’s still got her eyes on the stupid pages of the book. He’s about to sigh, maybe pout a bit, and open and slam the drawer again so she’ll look at him. Until he notices the look on her face.

What he thought was concentration before is in fact something else. The way she’s tucked her lip into her mouth, teeth turning the flesh ruby red. Wide eyes, intrigued and excited as they flutter over the pages. No not excited, enticed. And her warm skin he’d felt earlier, he decides, isn’t from her sweatshirt. He bets he could see her pulse beating in her neck if he got close enough.

If it weren’t for that stupid book Nico would think that she did in fact watch him get dressed and is trying to hide how flustered it made her. But she’s been warm and distracted like that since he walked in the room. What is she reading?

He turns around, arms crossing over his chest as he just watches her. If she notices his staring she doesn’t care because her fingers just flip the page and her teeth continue to gnaw at her lips. It distracts him for a moment, the way her bottom one has swelled and bled into the skin around her lips. It reminds him of how good her smile always looks after he’s messily kissed her breathless.

It’s the movement of her legs that brings him back to his task. She uncrosses her legs for just a second, stretching them across the bed before swapping her right leg over the left. He catches the way she wiggles, how her bare toes curl just for a beat and his stomach swoops.

She’s reading porn.

There’s no way she’s not. He knows her tells, her mannerisms when she’s turned on. Knows how her eyes light up and grow hungry, all starry and desperate. He’s seen first hand how her skin flushes and grows warm, how he can press his tongue to the pulse in her neck and feel her heart pounding.

Intrigued, Nico moves towards the foot of the bed. He wills his smirk to go away, playing innocent as he knees his way onto the mattress. On instinct she separates her legs for him, allowing him to climb up her body. Nico has a habit of snuggling into her like this when she reads so he barely has to duck down under her book as she lifts it for him. Settling his hips in her parted thighs, Nico rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes with his nose pressed into her neck. Sure enough he can hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the arousal on her neck.

“Baby,” he murmurs as her elbows come to rest on his back. Nico doesn’t need to look to know she’s still reading, but he feels her hum in response.

“Do you love me?”

She laughs quietly. “I love you Nico.”

He smiles, presses his lips to her neck and teases the tip of his tongue along her warm skin. Her breath shudders, a leg comes up around his waist and nudges him closer. He hisses quietly, the semi he’s been sporting since he realized what she was doing presses comfortably into her thighs.

“Will you read to me?”

She hesitates. He hears her heart beat jump. “No…”

“Please?” He begs, “I want to hear the story.”

She giggles nervously. “I don’t want to.”

Nico nips at her neck again, shifting his hips into her even more. The thin cotton underwear she’s wearing does nothing to hide the heat between her legs.

“Because you’re reading something dirty?”

Almost immediately she shuts the book, jolting as much as she possibly can with his weight on her. Nico grins devilishly as she moves to shove the book under the pillows.

He laughs, pushing himself up to his knees so he can make a grab for the book but she hugs it to her chest instead, squealing at his pawing hands. Nico tries to wiggle his large hands under her elbows and then her biceps, anywhere to gain access to that book but she just laughs and squeezes it tighter. It gets to the point that his grabby hands are just tickling her, making her curl up into herself and putting the book even more out of reach.

“Let me see!” He shouts through giggles, cheeks throbbing from smiling so hard. She laughs again, shaking her head no and somehow managing to wiggle onto her stomach under him. With the book now hidden between her and the mattress, Nico rests all his weight on the back of her thighs, pining her down.

“My arms are falling asleep,” she says breathlessly, looking at him over her right shoulder. Nico scoops her hair out of the way, pushing it over her left shoulder so she can see him better.

“Give me the book and I’ll let you go.”

She scoffs, still refusing. Knowing she’ll have to give in eventually Nico simply drapes himself over her back, ghosting his lips over the back of her neck. Goosebumps rise on her skin and she shivers, wiggling under him with a tiny giggle. Smirking, Nico presses the bulge in his boxers into her butt, letting his small moan run over her neck in a hot breath.

“Nico stop,” she protests quietly, and if he thought she actually meant it he would. But he can hear it in her voice, how turned on she is. She knows he’s going to break her, even if he has to use his mouth and hands to do it. He’s determined to see that book and if he has to rile her up, tease her into giving it to him, he will.

“Stop what?” He murmurs innocently, sitting up and ghosting his hand down her back. His fingers find the hem of her sweatshirt, pushing it up to reveal the dimples at the base of her spine and the curve of her bottom. He presses his thumb into the dip, licking his lips when he hears the pleasured noise she chokes back. Nico grips her side, holds her still so he can press himself into her even more.

She laughs softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Stop putting your dick on me!”

Nico laughs, amused at her whininess and her words. For a moment he lets himself feel the bubble of love in his chest, the way it makes him float, tethered to the ground by nothing but her. He almost abandons all thoughts of seeing that book in favor of seeing her especially when his other hand falls to her waist, gripping her side and rutting his hips forward on instinct.

It’s just enough to tease him, to remind him of what it feels like to have her bent over their bed like this while he makes them feel good. Sometimes this is what he thinks about on long road trips away from her, when he wants to replay the pleasure in his head. He pictures her on their bed. And what about her? Does she read this stuff? Is it the words of someone else that makes her feel good when he’s not home?

“No,” Nico finally says, an edge of whininess in his own tone now. He doesn’t like the thought of her preferring that stupid book over him. “not until you let me see that book.”

She groans in annoyance, turning her head to bury her face in the pillows of the bed. Nico eases up on her, lifts his weight back into his knees so he’s just caging her in. With the space to move again, she flops back over onto her back, his hands following her movements as she goes.

Nico smiles when she looks at him, her cheeks flush and eyes shift over his face. She’s nervous, he realizes and not just in a please-fuck-me way but actual anxiety. He softens, cups her face in his right hand and leans down to press his lips to hers. It’s just a quick, soft peck but the reassurance he was trying to convey must come across as she lets out a breath of relief.

“Just want to know what you like,” Nico explains “I’m not going to tease or laugh. S’like I just want to know what I’m competing with.”

Her hold on the book slackens the tiniest bit. “Compete with?” She questions “Nico you have no competition. Nothing could even compare.”

Pride swells in his chest. Her praise makes his veins buzz, his dick throb in his boxers. He’s tempted to pull himself from the fabric, provide a little relief from how tight his underwear has gotten but now might not be the time.

“Still,” he presses “I’m curious my love.”

She rolls her eyes but a smile tugs at her lips and he knows he’s won her over. Eager, Nico bites at his bottom lip and sits back on his haunches, hands running down her thighs appreciatively.

“Fine,” she relents “but you have to close your eyes.” Nico opens his mouth to object, already prepared to lean foreword and bribe her with kisses. “And only a page!”

“That’s not fair!”

“My book, my rules Hischier. Now close ‘em.”

Huffing, Nico does as told and closes his eyes. Surrounded by darkness, his other senses peak, making him hyper aware of her warm skin and heavy breaths. The rustle of the book as she flips to her previous page is loud in his ears and it makes his stomach knot with anticipation. His mind reels, flashing through different scenarios she could be reading about and each one he pictures behind closed eyelids has his dick growing thicker. He feels a bit pathetic when it only takes her a minute to find her spot in the book and he’s already on the verge of reaching down to rub one out because he’s so excited.

Before he can really think about it she’s clearing her throat softly, her legs adjusting under him just the tiniest bit. He wonders if she’s still nervous about reading to him, not that she should be.

“Kay,” she croaks quietly, “you ready?”

Nico nods, licking over his lips anxiously and digging his fingers into her thick thighs to ground himself. He’s not too sure he likes this whole not being able to see thing, but for her he’ll try anything.

“She had never met someone like him, been with someone like him. She had only known one kind of loving, the hard and fast kinds that felt good in the moment but burned out quickly. It only lingers for as long as the muscles in her thighs burn and by the time the sweat on her skin has dried, she’s left with nothing but that too fast lover next to her.

“Jax is different-“

Nico scrunches his nose at the name of this man, thinking it’s far too close to the name Jack and far too different from his own name.

“With him comes passion. A slow burning candle rather than a fast lit fuse. She likes that he takes his time, drags his mouth over every inch of skin he can get. Just as he does now. Plump, wet lips moving up her thighs, soft in their kiss but rough with intent. Jax nips at her flesh, licks closer and closer to the bundle of nerves he’d just abused with his fingers-“

He can hear in her voice how enthralled she is with this man, or at least with what he’s doing. Her words are breathy and hot, some barely murmurs from her lips. Nico can’t seem to tell if he should be jealous of this fake character or impressed. In just a paragraph Jax has knocked his girl breathless and horny, filled her voice with a lust that has Nico’s cock aching.

She continues reading, retelling Jax’s wet and sloppy head performance on the main character but Nico’s not exactly paying attention anymore. Not to the book at least. Instead he’s listening to her, soaking in the sound of her describing what it feels like on the woman’s side. How it burns in her belly, swirls in her chest, curls her toes. He likes hearing her breath catch when she talks about how it aches, how she’s greedy for the pleasure this man provides.

It’s like she’s physically remembering what that feels like. His girl pauses for a moment, her soft pants filling the air and he suddenly realizes how hard he’s breathing, how sweat is building on his neck and shoulders. He’s holding her thighs for dear life, clutching at her like she might disappear under his fingertips.

“Don’t stop,” he begs quietly, desperate to hear her repeat the moment this girl in the book comes. He needs to know if there’s reminiscing in her tone, if she’s recalling moments she’s felt that good as she reads.

“I don’t want to read anymore,” she replies, and he hears her shut the book. He opens his eyes just in time to see her carelessly toss it to the floor. The room is bright when he looks down at her and black spots swim in his vision from how tightly he’d closed his eyes.

She looks up at him with dark eyes, her lips swollen and bitten red. Her teeth catch the bottom one again, sinking into the flesh and his painfully hard dick throbs so deep it hurts in his gut. As if sensing his pain, her eyes flicker down to his lap. Instinctively, Nico widens his thighs for her, welcoming her closer. Abiding, she lifts a hand from the bedsheets and places it over the one he now has splayed across her belly, squeezing his fingers momentarily. Then she’s trailing her fingers towards him, slow and teasing.

“You like the book?” She questions with a hint of amusement. Nico’s brain swirls, his eyes watching her fingertips dance down her sweater and towards the bulge in his boxers. When he doesn’t answer she slows her movements and he huffs frustratedly before finally coming up with a response.

“Is that what it feels like?” He asks “For you? S’that why you read it?”

His tone isn’t condescending or mean, not a hint of judgment on his tongue. He’s just intrigued, curious. Nico never in a million years thought a porn book could turn him on let alone his girl, especially when they’ve got each other to help out. He wants to know what it is that made her read that book instead of coming to him.

“Kind of,” she responds, her hand now on his thigh. “He reminds me of you.”

Nico swallows. Hard. His tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth and her fingers suddenly weigh heavy on his skin. He tries to think of something to say, knows he has a million things he could say to her but nothing comes to mind. She thinks this guy is like him?

“Some of the things he does.” She continues “How he teases and picks on her but he’s still safe and sweet. And he’s strong but not with her.

"It's you, you're straight from a romance novel."

God she hasn’t even touched him yet and he thinks he’s going to come. With every little compliment his cock thickens more (if that’s even possible) and his skin is buzzing. Like a flip has switched, his mouth waters, his mind slows down just enough for him to meet her gaze. Her pupils blown wide and dark, eyes shiny with need. He smirks.

“Can’t even read a book without thinking of me?” He murmurs “I’m that good huh?”

She simpers, realizing he’s come back to himself. “So good Nico.”

He swipes his hands under her sweater, pushes it up her abdomen and chest until she has to pull her hand back. She sits up just enough for him to pull it over her head, tossing it to floor as he takes in her newly exposed skin. Not that he really needs to. He could draw her body ten shots in and with his eyes closed.

While he’s busy admiring the dip of her collarbones, the way her nipples have hardened in the cool air, she sneaks her hand back down between them. Nico’s just made up his mind to mark her left breast with his teeth when she cups his cock through his underwear.

White flashes in his vision, tingles of pleasure shooting down his legs and he practically falls forward into her from how sensitive he’s grown. Nico crashes his mouth into her smiling one, silencing her amused giggles with his tongue. He nips at her bottom lip, grunting when she methodically squeezes him in her palm.

“You gonna let me make you come like that?” He asks, lips ghosting over hers. She holds his gaze, eyes dreamy and far off like he’s just kissed her silly. “On my tongue? Always taste so good sweetheart.”

It takes a second, but she eventually mumbles a displeased sound. “Just want you to fuck me Nico. Been waiting long enough.”

She catches his lips again, this time taking over as she swipes her tongue at his bottom lip before drawing back and sinking her teeth into it. He hisses, ruts his hips into her hand.

“Could’ve been fucking you a while ago if you’d put down that book,” he informs, pushing himself back up to his knees. "I even put on a little show for you before I got dressed."

Nico wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand back from him and instead bringing it up to his mouth. She whines at his interruption, eyebrows pinching together but he just smiles, pressing lazy kisses to her palm and fingers.

“You know I looked,” she whispers, eyes flickering down his body just once before meeting his gaze again. “I always look.”

Teasing, Nico cocks his head to the side. “Still pretended like you didn’t see me? Ouch babe.”

Something like shyness bleeds into her features, her gaze growing bashful. “Didn’t want to be needy.”

Oh his sweet girl. Doesn’t she know that she’s always needy? It’s one of his favorite things about her. How clingy and pliant she gets when he fucks her, when she’s desperate for his touch.

Nico intertwines their fingers, pushing them onto the pillow by her head as he leans back down to kiss her.

“Never stopped you before…” he murmurs, kissing her chin. Before she can respond he’s getting up, pulling her with him by the hand until they’re both standing at the bottom of the bed. His hands move to her hips, drawing her up to her tip toes and into his chest. She complies, rising to meet his mouth as she holds his face between her palms.

Her skin is soft and warm under his fingertips, begging to be traced and worshipped by him. Nico tugs her in closer, her belly pressing into his cock has his knees shaking and she greedily swallows the moan that escapes him.

Slipping his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, Nico drags his hand around to her ass, pawing at his favorite part of her. Well almost favorite, he still fucking loves her smile more than anything else.

She parts from his mouth, panting out a whimper when he digs his nails into her skin just enough to sting. The sound has him needy for more, aching to hear her again so he tugs down her underwear. He works it down her thighs until the cotton fabric falls to her ankles where she trips trying to kick it away, stumbling just enough that her arms lock around his neck for stability. The moment tugs him forward, his nose bumping into the corner of her eye.

He cups her face, running the pad of his thumb over the outer corner of her eye as she giggles. She’s clearly not in any pain or discomfort from the little bump in, but Nico kisses the area just to be safe before connecting his mouth to hers again. Her arms fall from his neck to his abdomen, fingers tracing over the dips of his stomach for a moment but when he trembles with shivers she moves them to his back. While she’s busy mapping out his spine his fingers find the end of her messy braid. She might not like it but he slips the hair tie off anyway, blindly unbraiding her oiled hair.

“Blegh,” he jokes, pulling his hand back from her hair and scrunching his nose “what is that?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes shoving his hand down. He grabs her waist, smoothing his hand back over her ass. “It’s oil to protect my ends while I sleep.”

“You couldn’t have done that after we have sex?”

“I was ready for bed!” She exclaims around a laugh, shaking her head when he just grins at her. Nico loves this, loves her. And he really loves that he’s lucky enough to fondle her butt and make her smile at the same time. He thinks he could probably die here in this moment and be happy.

She has other ideas.

“Oh fuck!”

One of her hands has snuck into his boxers, pulling the band back enough for his cock to spring up and her to fit her fingers around the width of him. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his sensitive skin jolts him, almost makes his knees buckle as pleasure shoots down his legs.

He never knows how she manages to get ahold of him so quickly and smoothly like that but it drives him wild every time. It’s like she knows to distract him with her beautiful laugh and pretty little eyes just so she can surprise him like that.

“Now that you’ve messed up my hair,” she tantalizes, leaning in close to his face. Her lips ghost over his, breath warm on his face. “Are you gonna finish the job Nico?”

Nico closes the gap, bites at her bottom lip harshly before soothing his tongue over it. He’s rough with it, more than he has been all night but if she’s going yo keep teasing him he’s going to make her pay for it.

Before the kiss can get too distracting he’s pulling back, licking his lips as he uses his hold on her ass and waist to spin her around. Her gasp of surprise has him smirking, nudging her forward onto the bed with a gentle but sturdy hand on the back of her neck.

“Finish the fucking job,” he mutters under his breath, lips quirking into a smile when she giggles into the mattress. “Just how I like it.”

He smoothes his hands over her ass as he says it, presses his slightly clothed cock forward. His toes curl, eyelids fluttering as he ruts into her once just to tease himself a bit more. The little bead of precum that slips out of the bare head of his cock is enough though, and he quickly shoves his underwear down with his left hand.

They get kicked off to the side somewhere, immediately forgotten in favor of the enticing woman bent over in front of him. Nico drops his hand between her spread thighs, two fingers growing straight to her dripping cunt. She mewls, arching her back as he spreads her wetness around. If he were feeling more patient tonight he’d take a moment to make her cum on his fingers but his cock is far too hard and heavy to do that now.

Instead he grips himself with the fingers that had just been teasing her, holding the base of his cock steady as he presses the head of him into her folds. She’s so fucking warm and inviting, her hips tilting to try and get him to push in further but he holds, inhaling deeply to keep himself bursting as soon as he’s fully seated inside her.

“Nico,” she whines, drawing out the last letter “more, please more.” And who is he to deny to his sweet girl, especially after she asked him so nicely. In one swift motion Nico fills her up, thighs and hips flush against her damp skin.

The noise he lets out is almost pathetic, a borderline whimper that squeaks out from the back of his throat the moment his cock is enveloped by her slick walls. But it’s nothing compared to her own sounds, whiny and pleasured gasps that make his stomach twist in pleasure.

Settling himself, Nico inhales deeply and talked a hold of her hips in both hands. He can’t hold back any longer, head titling back as he finally moves. With the knowledge that her book and his teasing had worked her up into a frenzy, Nico decides they’ve both had enough foreplay.

He’s deep and thorough with it, fucking into her until his lower belly is tight against the curve of her ass and then pulling back until just the tip of him teases at her walls.

“Oh fuck,” Nico groans when she rocks back on him, squeezing his cock. It feels good, she feels so fucking good. But he wants to fuck her, not the other way around.

He gathers her hair in his right hand, weaving the strands around his fingers tightly. He makes sure not to pull but keeps his hold strong enough that she’ll stop grinding back on him.

Nico waits for her to still before picking up his pace again, rutting his hips forward before pulling back, dragging his thick cock through her walls. Hitching forward, Nico presses his chest to her back, free hand wrapping around to hold the pudge of her stomach. She goes soft in his embrace, collapsing to the mattress until just his hands are keeping her up.

“Good girl,” he purrs in her ear, chuckling huskily when she clenches down on his cock and he ruts into her again. “My good girl…”

Pressing a wet kiss just below her ear, Nico straightens back up so he can have the leverage he needs to make her cum. And he does just that, holding her ass up and wrapping his fingers around her hair, Nico drives his cock into her until her knees wobble and give out. She squeezes his cock, pulsing with every deep push of his hips and whimpering into their bed sheets.

Nico’s arms burn from holding her up, thighs tight from being tensed for too long and the pull behind his belly button is so strong it’s uncomfortable. Still, he chases his own high, eyes fluttering shut and head tilted back as he abuses her spent pussy.

“Come on Nico,” he hears her encourage, voice begging. It makes his toes curl, the coil in his belly tighten even more. “I want you to come, please come for me.”

White stars burst behind closed eyelids, veins buzzing and burning in the best way possible as Nico releases his load into her. Cock still throbbing, he falls forward into her, squishing her between him and the mattress.

“Fuck me,” Nico mumbles, planting a kiss to her shoulder blade. Unable to stop himself, he ruts into her one more time just to hear how wet she is, feel how full he’s left her. She whimpers, overstimulated and tries to wiggle away but he’s got her pinned. Not that it matters, if he moves anymore he thinks his dick might fall off.

“M’gonna have to read that book of yours,” he declares, pushing himself up now that his muscles feel semi-normal. Gently, he slips out of her, cupping his softening member in his palm. She laughs as he promises to return in a second, moving into the bathroom for a towel. He cleans himself up before going back to her, still perched on the edge of the bed. Nico has to physically stop himself from looking between her thighs where he knows his cum probably dripping from her, afraid he’ll somehow get hard again.

“Would you hurry,” she dramatically complains, her smile present in her tone “my legs are tired.”

Snorting, Nico quickly helps clean her up, wiping the mess between her legs before folding the towel up and wiping at the sweat on her back with the dry area. He dots kisses to her bare skin as he does so, lightly slapping her ass before he discards of the soiled towel.

He digs up their discarded pjs, slipping his boxers back on before helping her into a shirt and her underwear. She’s braiding her hair again when Nico tucks himself into his side of the bed, finding her book by his nightstand.

Smirking he grabs it, humming thoughtfully while she quickly gets ready for bed. “Read me a bedtime story?” He requests, jutting out his bottom lip when she turns to face him.

Laughter bubbles out of her when she sees the book in his hand, rolling her eyes as she ties off her braid and climbs onto the bed.

“That’s enough of that book tonight,” she says, tugging it from his fingers and putting it back on the nightstand. Nico watches her slip under the blankets, rearranging her pillows before slipping low under the sheets.

She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts him.

Nico shuts off the bedside lamp, leaving them in the darkness before he too settles lower on the pillows. Then he wiggles closer to her, tucking himself into her side and throwing a leg over hers. She giggles, lays her hand over his before turning her head to him.

“I love you Nico,” she whispers, eyes glowing in the little bit of light in the room.

“Love you more sweetheart.” He replies, sealing their lips together for a chaste goodnight kiss. They break apart, settling in for sleep as the events of the night catch up with them. Nico’s barely conscious when he makes a mental reminder to find her more dirty books.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier smut

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cupid-styles · 9 months

Text

come on, disco queen*

Word count: 6,200+

70s!Harry and virgin fmc!! Enjoy disco bbs 🪩🍒💌🔮🫶🏼🩷

Smut CWs: dirty talk, talk of anal, fingering, squirting, fmc being a pillow princess hehe

—

Daisy's limbs are haphazardly thrown askew over the length of the couch when Harry walks into the apartment he shares with his sister, Willow.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at her appearance; her stature barely covered in a crocheted halter top and a hopelessly tiny pair of denim shorts. She's barefoot, eyes closed and buried in the crook of her elbow. He assumes he's sleeping as he kicks his sneakers off and moseys into the kitchenette, focusing on the all-consuming dryness coating his throat and mouth.

San Diego in the middle of summer was not for the faint of heart.

She lifts her head up when her ears perk up at the sound of someone shuffling through the kitchen. She expects to see Willow, but instead is met with Harry, and huffs, dramatically tossing her head back against the woven pillow.

"Don't you have a home?" Harry finally bites, breaking the silence between the two. The only other sound echoing through the area of the apartment is the large fan Harry managed to snag with some leftover cash from his paycheck earlier this summer. Even though it's not efficient enough to cool down the entire place, it's decent at breaking down the sticky humidity.

"It's too hot to move." Daisy mutters. He glances over, trying to ignore her uncovered midriff and the way her breasts are barely covered by the white stitches of her top. This time, he does roll his eyes — it's not that he doesn't like his sister's best friend, it's just that if she was going to hang around the apartment, especially without Willow, then maybe she could cover up just a little bit more.

"Better start pitching in for electric then," he utters between sips of lukewarm tap water. "Willow still at work?"

Daisy sits up now, her long brown hair mussed by what Harry can only assume is an afternoon of laying down on his couch. She nods, blinking her eyes slowly as they adjust to the warmth of the room. It was one of Harry's favorite parts of the apartment — the way the sun hit in the late afternoon, effectively making it glow.

"Yeah. I think she swapped shifts with the pregnant girl she works with so she went in later. Think she said something about being home around 10 tonight?"

Harry nods as he finishes his glass of water, giving it a quick rinse and placing it on the dish towel they used for drying.

"You sticking around then?" he asks, leaning his hip against the refrigerator and crossing his arms over his chest. Daisy shrugs and glances up at the clock, her eyebrows raising slightly when she reads the time.

"Was thinking about hitting the record store before they close. I wanted to grab that new Fleetwood Mac album. I haven't been able to get that one song out of my head since I heard it on the radio the other day — you can go your own way, or something?"

Harry nods knowingly. He'd been a fan of Fleetwood since they release their last album and had been first in line to snag their most recent.

"Rumours, yeah?" He asks, and Daisy lights up, her eyes wide, "I have it. There's this one incredible song — "Dreams" — and it's all Stevie. The lyrics are amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry replies, "I'm surprised you didn't already snag it when it came out."

Daisy works at the local record store which, if Harry's being completely honest, is kind of his dream job. He thinks it's really cool that she gets to check out all the newest music and has first dibs on albums, even if their music taste differed sometimes — he tended to lean more towards Led Zeppelin, while Daisy favored Donna Summer.

"It's been sold out for ages," Daisy says with a shrug, "I swear, there was a week where it was the only record I sold."

Harry chuckles at that and opens the refrigerator, reaching in to grab a can of Miller.

"You want one? I moved the player into my room 'cos of that party Willow threw a few weeks ago, when that kid almost ralphed all over it," Harry rolls his eyes, "We can listen to it in there, if you want."

Admittedly, Daisy is taken aback just a tad. She's been hanging around Willow for the past few years — she's originally from the Pacific Northwest and moved out to San Diego shortly after graduating high school, chasing a pipe dream on the tail end of '60s-fueled free love, only to find a major culture change in the early '70s.

The war out in Vietnam had created a ton of tension and, on her second day here, she spent the morning at a diner, her green eyes widened and glued to the hazy television reporting on the latest death count. She rolled her eyes when an older man huffed past her, mumbling something under his breath about being a sensitive hippie — she wasn't, she just had a compassionate heart — but she felt slightly seen when one of the waitresses sat down in the booth next to her, coffee pot in her hand, her own face crawling with horror.

They sat there in silence as the local news anchor read off the names of American soldiers that had passed in combat.

"'s heartbreaking, isn't it?"

Daisy turned to look at the waitress, a tanned, fresh-faced girl with curly brown hair.

"Totally freaky," Daisy sighed out with a shake of her head.

"You know anyone out there?" The girl asked, nudging her chin the direction of the television. Daisy was fortunate; she'd known a few guys from high school that had been unlucky enough to get drafted shortly after their 17th birthday, but that was it.

"No, thankfully not. You?"

The waitress pursed her lips, "No. My brother would've gotten picked for sure if he was an American citizen. Lucky for us, we're still working on the whole immigration thing. Brits and whatever."

"That's a trip." Daisy breathed, and the girl nodded.

"Totally." She stood from the booth and reached over to refill Daisy's coffee cup. "Are you new to town?"

"What, the duffel give it away?" Daisy smirked, making the girl laugh out loudly.

"Far out. Do you have a place to stay? You seem nifty, my brother and I have some room if you need a couch to crash on."

The rest, she supposes, is history.

Daisy only stayed at Harry and Willow's place for a month or so before nabbing a job at Sam's Records. Thanks to their generosity, she was able to save up to snag a small loft in the neighborhood, but she was happy.

She was especially happy when she was around Harry, too.

He didn't express a huge interest in Daisy, and she soon found out it was because he was a casanova of sorts. He worked hard, enough to maintain the apartment and pay the bulk of the rent and bills, but he was constantly bringing girls back for quickies. Willow would roll her eyes and gag, Daisy would ignore the twinge of jealousy in her heart.

So that's why she's a little surprised when Harry makes an offer to actually hang out without Willow. They normally ignore each other or make small talk until Willow gets home from work or relieves them of their awkward conversation. They haven't really spent too much time together one-on-one in the five years Daisy's been in San Diego.

But she's not foolish enough to let this opportunity to waste — it'd be a lie if she said she wasn't just a little bit attracted to Harry. Besides, with the amount of people he hooked up with, she as undeniably curious about what he had to offer.

"Yeah, sounds groovy," Daisy replies, standing from the couch and stretching her achy limbs out. She swears she catches Harry's eyes linger a little too long on the swell of her breasts beneath her top, but quickly convinces herself otherwise as he digs in the fridge for another beer. She follows him into his bedroom, a space that Daisy could recall being in only twice before: Once, a few days into her initial stay here when she was high off a few bong hits and thought she was walking into Willow's room, only to be met with a strawberry blonde straddling Harry's lap, mid-makeout (she'd quickly stammered and shut the door closed before Harry's eyes could even flutter open), and another time, with Willow, when she was looking for her Elton John record.

Both times, Daisy hadn't taken much of his room into view, instead feeling equally awkward and uncomfortable that she was there without his actual invitation. So when Harry places the two beer cans on his nightstand and strides over to his record player to turn Rumours on, she peeks at the little details of his space — a myriad of Polaroid photographs, some of friends, some with friends, some of people she didn't recognize. A stack of worn paperback books with swollen spines next to his bed, and Daisy feels her eyes widen when she notices Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique on top. She knew Harry was liberal and kind and all, but she never expected to find feminist theory literature in his room.

She's taking in the tacked up band posters covering the walls when the soundly crackle of vinyl fills the room. Harry turns with a cheeky smile on his lips as he places the record insert back in its sleeve, then nudges his chin in the direction of the sweaty, unopened cans of Miller.

"I heard they're supposed to play LA sometime this fall," Harry finally breaks the silence as Daisy hands him his can, the two of them cracking them open. She lifts hers to her lips and takes down greedy gulps, partially because of the heat but mainly because of Harry.

"Oh, right on," Daisy replies, shifting her stance from foot to foot. "I think I'm gonna try to hit that ABBA show next month in downtown SF."

Harry wrinkles his nose at her response as he sits on the edge of the bed, wordlessly encouraging Daisy to do the same. She does, albeit hesitantly, and with enough distance between them.

"That's a mighty drive for some disco," he teases, though there's a hint of seriousness to his commentary, "You going with someone decent?"

Daisy shrugs, "Willow was into it but she probably can't take off from work. I might ask that guy Warren I work with, he said he'd be down if he could get some good sales out of it."

Harry raises his eyebrows and quickly shakes his head between sips. "No way Jose, you're not making an eight hour drive to SF with a coke dealer."

Harry wasn't hugely into discos, but he was a frequent flyer when it came to tagging along with Willow and Daisy to ensure they were safe. As far as he knew, Daisy didn't dabble in coke all too much, even if it ran rampant in the nightclubs they attended.

"But if I don't go who knows when I'll be able to see them again—"

"I'll go with you," Harry blurts out before he can fathom the thought of a 16-hour drive, round trip, for a bubblegum group he doesn't even like. "Fuck Warren, he's good for nothing but drugs."

"Harry, you hate ABBA," Daisy rolls her eyes. "I'll be fine, really."

"Who says I hate ABBA?"

"You literally yell at us to turn it off every time we put Arrival on."

Harry shrugs his shoulders and leans back against the neat array of pillows, tucking his arms behind his head. "It's me or it's a no-go, disco queen."

She sighs and shakes her head before leaning back on her elbows, her palm pressed tightly against the condensation of the can. "Please, there's no way you would want to sit in a car with me for that long."

"Where'd you get that idea from?" Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows, pressing his lips into a thin line. Daisy's quiet for a moment, churning a reply in her head that doesn't offend him or make her sound dumb.

"You just... I'm your sister's friend, you know? I know you probably don't dig me too much, and that's fine, but you don't have to go out of your way for me just because I don't have anyone else to go with."

"What makes you think I don't dig you?" Harry pushes, making Daisy sigh.

"It's nothing, forget it," she mumbles, finishing off her beer, "Thanks for this, the album's righteous, I'll pick it up at my next shift."

Harry's scrambling to stop her as she walks out to the living room and shuffling her shoes on. Dreams sounds from his bedroom, the song he was most excited to show her, and it only drives his actions further, her words echoing and gnawing into his heart.

"Daisy, stop," he tries, grasping out to wrap his fingers around her wrist, "Stop— just, talk to me, will you? C'mon, I— I don't know where you got that from, I think you're really stellar, Dais."

Daisy looks up at him, momentarily glancing down to hand around her wrist before shifting her wide eyes back to his. "You don't have to be like this, I gotta head home anyway—"

"You don't," Harry shakes his head, stepping closer to her, invading her space as she backs against the front door. "You've been jiving here all day, you don't have to go home. Don't lie to me."

Daisy lets out a frustrated sigh at his pushy nature, but not before she's entirely too distracted by his musky scent and the way his palm is pushed against the wall, right next to her head, making his bicep flex just slightly. She watches as his tongue peeks out and he licks over his lips, waiting for her to break. If it had been anyone else in the world, she would've done everything she could to remove herself from the situation, go home, and soak in the bath while she beat herself up about being too awkward, not sociable enough.

But this is Harry. And Daisy can't, even if she desperately wants to, say no to him.

So she huffs and darts her eyes back to his bedroom, making an annoyed gesture with her hands that signaled what she really wanted to say: c'mon then, dipshit, let's go talk.

Harry's smirking as Daisy kicks her shoes back off, a triumphant puff to his chest. When they return, he closes the door just gently enough to where she wouldn't have noticed if she weren't hyper aware of his every action.

"Right, then," Harry says, sitting down across from Daisy on the bed, who now has her legs criss-cross-applesauce. He follows her lead and allows for her a decent distance between them. Daisy feels like she's having an awkward first kiss with someone via spin the bottle, but she quickly bats the thought of kissing Harry away. "Why don't you think I like you?"

"Because," Daisy sighs, reaching up to cover her warm face with her hands, "I'm just Willow's annoying friend, you know? Always in your way and at your place, drinking your beer and listening to your records."

"Where did you even get that idea?" Harry asks with furrowed brows, shaking his head. "I don't think you're annoying, and I don't care that you hang here, with or without Willow. You can drink all my fuckin' beer or listen to my records until they scratch."

Daisy blushes at that. He's never outwardly declared any type of fondness towards her, friendly or not.

"You just... always seem so peeved when you come out with us to the discos and stuff," Daisy admits, shrugging lightly, "I feel like you think you have to babysit me or something."

Harry chuckles with a shake of his head. "You're a trip, you know that?" His question is rhetorical, so she continues sitting there, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yeah, I wanna make sure you guys are being safe and no, I don't love disco or boogieing down the way you lot do. But I'm never peeved about hanging with you, Dais. I'm sorry if I did something to make you feel that way, but I promise, you're more to me than Willow's friend."

Daisy's eyes finally meet his. Harry notices the faint blush that blossoms over her cheeks, and he can't help the way his lips turn upward in the smallest tick, his heart expanding ever so slightly at the sight.

"That's nice of you," she eventually mumbles out, blinking slowly. He chuckles quietly and shrugs, murmuring out, "yeah, I guess."

Side A of Rumours is long over now; the only noise sounding through the room is the repeated spin of the vinyl, over and over again. Daisy glances over to the record player, her bottom lip dropping open.

"You should— you should stop that," she says, "It'll scratch the record."

Harry smirks. He watches as she cowers slightly and he notes her nervous energy, the way her anxiety radiates off of her in small waves.

"Would you get me a new one if I did?" he asks, his voice dropping to a raspy tone.

Daisy looks back at Harry, her eyes somehow seeming even wider now. "Y-yeah. If you needed it, yeah."

"Yeah?" he teases, "You're good that way, aren't you?"

"H-Harry—" Daisy's lips fold over the syllables of his name, as if she's broken herself from the spell she was under. "I... you don't have to do this. I get it, you don't think I'm annoying but... don't just try to sleep with me 'cause you feel bad for me."

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh as he backs out of her space, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Why do you think you're some kind of charity case?" he asks with a shake of his head. "I don't feel bad for you, Daisy, and I would never take advantage of you in that way."

"You're just— you're you! And I'm me! And it doesn't make sense that you'd want anything to do with me outside of Willow! You've never acted this way before—"

"Yeah, exactly!" Harry exclaims, cutting off the words falling from Daisy's mouth. "You're my little sister's best friend, and I don't want to fuck things up between you two by doing anything stupid. I've been staying away from you for years because it's easier to do that than hurt you or her or get hurt myself if things didn't work out!"

Daisy's jaw drops open at Harry's admission, her cheeks immediately warming. She wants to cover her blush with her hands, but she can't find it in her to move, let alone tear her gaze away from his. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he awaits a response, so when she's at a loss for words, he huffs in frustration and shakes his head, standing from the bed.

"Forget it— just forget I fuckin' said anything," he mutters, rounding the bed to open his bedroom door, his denim bell bottoms swishing with his steps. "Go home if you need to, stick around if you want— just pretend this never happened, alright?"

"I— Harry, stop," Daisy finally musters, shaking her head as she attempts to process, "I'm not... I don't want to forget what you just said. I'm just trying to understand it."

"What else is there to understand?" He bites.

"Am I... am I wrong in assuming that you like me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong—

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying, Daisy."

The world slows just a bit — not just for Daisy, but for Harry, too. He'd never really envisioned a time where he admitted to having feelings for his little sister's best friend, but it seemed that they'd brewed and simmered for so long that they had no choice but to boil over. Daisy was just as surprised, though. She'd spent the past few years assuming that he hated her and looked at her like a naïve nuisance always taking up space.

"Can you say something?" Harry finally grumbles, and Daisy isn't aware of how long it's been since he made his confession.

"I..." her eyebrows are furrowed, confusion apparent on her face as she looks up. "Why me?" This time, he returns the same expression.

"Are you serious?" Harry echoes, "You're... you're beautiful and smart and so sweet to everyone you meet. I've seen you trip-sit more kids in this apartment than I care to count, and you didn't even know 'em all. You have good taste in music, even if it includes ABBA... you're amazing to my sister, and every time we stop into the record store and you're just sitting there, reading your books... Dais, I swear to god, you look like a goddamn angel."

A furious blush flowers over Daisy's neck and face. She'd watched Harry hookup with a constant rotation of people, all of who she felt were more attractive than her. It felt unreal to hear that he thought she was pretty and kind.

"Can I— can I kiss you?" Daisy blurts, raising to her knees, the plushy bedding of Harry's mattress digging into her legs.

"Yes. Please, Dais, kiss me."

She nods and leans forward, slow and hesitant. Their lips brush against one another and Harry reaches up to carefully caress her cheek, gently pulling her closer until finally, they make contact.

It feels as though years of tension are being translated through their kiss. Harry's quick to meld his mouth against hers, moving his lips in a careful pace. She meets him halfway with similar touches; quiet smacks of their lips moving together. With a hand on his thigh, Harry's tongue enters Daisy's mouth and he's licking at her, more eagerly now that he's gotten a taste. Daisy parts from him momentarily, but only to move over his lap and straddle his legs, her heels pressed into her bum as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him back in for another kiss.

She feels floaty and loses herself in the warm comfort of Harry's mouth, especially when his large hands find the backs of her thighs, sliding up to her ass. She swears she's never felt so good before, until the hardness of Harry's length makes itself known, poking at her core between layers of fabric. It's just enough to rip her out of her dreamy state, and she parts with a small gasp when he involuntarily bucks his hips up, searching for some sort of friction-filled release.

"Fuck— I'm sorry," Harry mutters out through spit-slicked lips. They're a muted cherry hue now, the same color they get when he's had a few too many glasses of red wine, or when he's saying goodbye to his one night stand in the hallway.

"It's okay," Daisy mumbles. She knows it's just human biology, that it's obviously natural for guys to get hard during heated makeout sessions. It's not like she's never felt a dick before, but it's also just that — she's never actually felt a dick before. "Um, I just— can we slow down?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. You just— I'm just like... really excited, I guess, and my body... knows that."

"It's fine, Harry," Daisy peeps out, smiling softly at the blush covering his cheeks, "But, uh... I've never... been with anyone before."

"What do you mean?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She had hoped that he would've caught on, but clearly she was wrong.

"I've never been with anyone."

"But I've seen you makeout with people at the disco and shit."

"Yeah, but I've never taken them home."

It takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, Harry's eyes widen and his mouth forms around an oh. Daisy feels an all-encompassing embarrassment take up her entire form — she'd disclosed this information to people in the past, and they normally scampered off because the responsibility of taking her virginity was simply too much. She understood that, truly, but it got tiring after awhile. And, let's face it — this was Harry, and she really, really didn't want to feel stupid in front of him.

"I'm... I didn't know that."

Daisy shrugs, "It's not exactly like I go around parading it."

"Well, I would hope not."

This time, Daisy does roll her eyes, and Harry smirks as she gently pushes at his shoulder. The awkwardness melts just slightly and Daisy's body relaxes.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to— I get that it can be a big deal for some chicks," Harry says, moving his palm to gently squeeze her hip, "But I do really like you, Daisy. And this doesn't change that."

Her heart swells in her chest and warmth envelops her belly. He has a dopey, lovesick smile on his lips — the same one he gets when he, Daisy, and Willow share a joint at the end of a night out, she notices — and she knows her face looks just as silly, if not more so.

"I like you too," she murmurs, reaching out to run her fingertips along the length of his jaw. She traces over his slightly scruffy beard, which she knows is a day or two overgrown. She trails up to the mustache covering his upper lip, the one Willow always complains about and says makes him look like a homeless hippie, but Daisy secretly adores. She ends at his lips, gently pulling at his bottom one to form a puppy's pout. Playfully, he nips at her fingertip and she giggles.

She doesn't retract her finger and instead presses her thumb between his swollen lips. He allows her to it, readily and openly, the digit laying flat against his tongue before he wraps his lips around it, sucking down softly.

"Oh," she breathes, feeling his tongue lazily swirl around her thickest finger. Daisy's core flutters at the image; the way his cheeks are hallowed out ever so slightly, a perfect picture of submission beneath her.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Harry whispers. She doesn't know how long she's been in his bed on top of his lap, but she assumes it's been awhile with the way golden hour is soaking every inch of his bedroom. She's slow in her movements, with the way she removes her finger from his mouth and, instead of climbing off like he'd expected her to, trails her hand below her crocheted top, brushing her spit-covered thumb over her nipple.

"Oh, fuck."

Daisy's head lulls to the side as she plays with herself, her nipple slowly hardening between her fingertips. Harry can barely see anything through the white crocheted vest, just peaks of flesh and the warm-toned hues of her nipples, and his jaw has still managed to go slack as he watches her with parted lips. She's a real life wet dream, he's sure of it.

"Dais..." Harry sighs as she lifts her hand to her mouth, wetting her fingers only to travel back down to give her other nipple the same treatment, "Lemme see? Please, baby, I'm desperate."

Daisy hums at his admission. It's hard to ignore the electricity that zips through her belly at the word baby, but she tries to keep her cool, even if she has no idea what she's doing. Slowly, she lifts her arms and ditches her torso of the netted material, allowing the breeze coming from the fan to only harden her nipples even further.

"Can I touch?" He asks, his eyes flickering up to hers for consent, "You can dictate the pace, lemme know what you're comfortable with but— 'm gonna die if I can't touch your pretty tits, Dais."

Daisy nods, her words stuck in her throat from Harry's boldness. He's quick to duck beneath her form as a surprised yelp tumbles from her lips, but it's quickly replaced with a whimper as he attaches his mouth to her nipple. He's sucking and licking, going back and forth between each one, his large hands gripping harshly at her hips. She's struggling to keep still but it's especially difficult when he nips at the sensitive buds, his teeth supplying the most delicious and quick licks of pain.

"Harry, I—"

His head snaps at up the second his name leaves her throat, immediately removing his lulling tongue from the patches of skin he'd been obsessing over.

"What's wrong?" Harry asks, panicked. She shakes her head and breathes out tensely as she pathetically tries to roll her hips against his; an attempt to showcase her communication better, but he's reluctant in accepting it.

"Words, bub," he instructs, reaching up to cradle her jaw in his palm, "Are you okay?"

"Good," Daisy bobs her head, "Feels good. I— more, please?"

Her words are a jumbled mess as they float from her brain to her mouth. She knows she must sound borderline high but Harry doesn't tease, instead sliding his hand down to the waistband of her denim shorts, his palm flush against her tummy.

"What do you want?"

She swallows. She's hooked up with people before, gotten fingered and given a few blowies, but she's never been asked to verbalize her needs. It makes her flush with embarrassment as her jaw opens and closes dumbly, unsure of what she's even requesting of Harry.

"I don't know," she finally breathes, hitching her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry. No one's ever asked me what I want before, I don't have as much experience as you—"

"Shush," Harry's quick to shut her up with a shake of his head. "I don't want you to feel bad about that. I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far. You get to decide, this is your body."

Daisy leans into Harry's grasp, pressing her cheek against his hand.

"Here, why don't you tell me where I can touch you?" he suggests, moving his other palm back up to her breasts, "Are you still alright here?"

She nods, gasping as he pinches her nipple between his fingers. His hands travel down to the swell of her ass, cupping her cheeks firmly.

"And what about here?"

"Mhm." her eyes flutter when he squeezes, a moan bubbling in her throat.

He keeps one hand on her bum as he uses the other to trail featherlight touches along the inside of her thigh, up to her core. She can feel her hole squeezing around nothing, a steady thumping buzzing through her clit, and she whimpers when he cups her pussy through her shorts.

"Is this okay, baby?"

Daisy nods, her breath quickening at the sensation. "You— you can take them off," she says in a moment of courage, "Want you to touch me there."

"Ah," Harry smirks as he unbuttons the denim, dragging the zipper down. "You want me to touch your little pussy, is that it?"

She whines as he budges her up just far enough to shimmy the material down her legs. She's not wearing the sexiest of underwear — just a plain cotton pair in a light blue — but Harry still licks his lips at the sight of the damp patch flowering over her hole, where he's desperate to feel.

"Has anyone ever touched you down here?"

"Yes," she mumbles, bucking her hips against his hand. His thumb is drawing light circles into her clit, not enough to satiate her need for him, instead providing a semblance of sensation.

"Do you ever do it?" he questions, moving his finger down to her hole. She's clenching with need as he gently pushes a finger in through the fabric. He's not fingering her, not even close; just making her whimper with need at the thought of what she could have if she answers him.

"Sometimes, yes," Daisy nods.

"What do you do?"

"I, um," she licks over her swollen lips, attempting to focus on his question as he dips in again. "I rub my clit... sometimes I put a finger in."

"Is that all it takes to make you cum?" his tone is teasing now, making her feel embarrassed.

"Usually."

"Usually?" he raises a brow, "What else do you do to make this pretty pussy cum?"

Daisy swallows loudly. "Sometimes... if I'm really turned on, I'll touch myself... lower."

"Lower?" Harry repeats, unsure if he's understanding her correctly. "Like...?"

"Yeah."

A devilish smirks takes over his face as he moves one of his hands to cup her ass again, this time squeezing even tighter.

"Is that why you moan so loud when I grab you here?"

She nods, ducking her head back in pleasure. Just the feeling of being slightly stimulated in both places is nearly enough to get here there, not to mention it's Harry doing the touching.

"And who taught you that?" he asks as he pushes the material of her underwear down her thighs.

"Um, a guy I hooked up with once," Daisy murmurs, sitting up slightly. She's naked now, still on top of him, while he remains in his work clothes from earlier today. Her pussy is bare to his wandering eye and he can't help the way he takes in her most intimate parts.

"And you liked it when he toyed with your cute bum?" Harry continues his relentless teasing much to Daisy's dismay, who is all but squirming with need. He relieves some of the consuming pressure in her stomach by taking his fingers between her pussy lips, spreading them to expose her clit. He lightly runs his fingertip over the sensitive nub and she shivers, nodding her head.

"He just... licked me there while he was going down on me," Daisy explains with fluttered eyes, "And the next time I played with myself I put a finger in... made me feel dirty but so good."

"Jesus, you really are a dirty little girl, hm?"

Apparently, Harry feels that she's answered enough of his questions and deserves a reward. She lets out a hearty moan when he applies more pressure to her clit, starting in tight, small circles. She's glistening for him and making a mess between her thighs, making Harry's mouth water just at the sight.

"You're a drippy mess," he mutters as he squeezes her bum. He lowers his hand downward to where she's aching the most, circling twice and dipping in to spread her wetness around. He uses his other hand to continue rubbing at her pearly clit as he pushes his finger in, his jaw dropping at the sight of Daisy arching her back and whimpering on top of him. "Fuckin' gorgeous girl."

Harry starts off at a tantalizing pace but when he sees how responsive she is to every little touch — well, he's only human, and he can't help but want to get her to her breaking point as quickly as possible. He's not sure if anyone she's hooked up with has ever cared to make her cum before, but with the way she's grinding down against his hand and palming at her own breasts, he thinks anyone that had a chance to see her like this and didn't is an absolute fool.

"Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" Harry asks. He can feel her tightening around the finger that's currently deep inside of her, poking and prodding at that special spot with each thrust. She's so wet that he's positive there's a wet spot on his work pants but he couldn't care less.

"Y-yes," Daisy nods helplessly, bouncing up and down as he pushes a second finger into her opening. It's a slight stretch, but nothing she can't take, that much is clear.

"Such a good girl, Daisy," he mutters mainly to himself, "Can't believe I went this long without feeling you squeeze my fingers like this... be my good girl and cum for me, baby, let me see you."

The squelching sound of his fingers rapidly moving against her are a telltale sign that she's at her end, but it's the slight gush around his hand and her throaty moans that stick with him. He watches in awe as she squirts on his fingers, helping her through her orgasm, her muscles contracting quickly.

"Fuck," Harry utters, "You're absolutely filthy. Been hiding this from me for years, hm?"

Daisy's eyes have long since fluttered closed as she comes down from her peak, so Harry does the only thing he can think of. Gently removing his fingers from her, he hooks an arm around her to keep her steady before lifting his hand to his mouth and finally having a taste of her arousal.

"Harry," Daisy breathes when she sees him, her eyes slightly widened at the visual beneath her.

"You taste incredible, Dais."

Without thinking, she leans forward and messily melds their lips together, her tongue prodding into his mouth. He welcomes it and groans at her eagerness. They part a minute or so later, both with spit swollen lips.

"I think I'm addicted to you, Daisy Walker."

Part two | Part three | Series masterlist

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leanteam43 · 2 months

Note

I have a criminal minds request! Spencer x Female Reader, where she has a very big crush on him but they coworkers and everyone else knows it but him. She is so scared to admit to him because they are friends and coworkers. But she tries to drop hints and be flirty, but he is too oblivious to know she like him And one day she is just like "I love you, you smart idiot!"

Hot Fudge Pop-Tarts and a Box of Runts

(Spencer Reid One-Shot)

summary : head-over-heels!reader x oblivious!spencer

pronouns : she/her | female!reader

warnings : SLOW BURN LIKE DANG GIRL SPEED IT UPPPP, crappy vending machine facts i googled, mild swearing, reader technically not getting proper nutrients but nothing serious at all, also not proof-read so cope </3

a/n's : i girlbossed gutair is making me a crochet derek morggan - 🌿 | HAPPY VALENTINES DAY (pretend this came out for valentines day - 🌿) - 🎸 | mowmowmowmowmow - 🐇

It was no secret, like...seriously. No secret.

It was bad enough the whole team knew, but once the entire office started catching on...(Y/N) could barely enter the same room as Reid before someone made a teasing comment.

Yet somehow, someway, Spencer Reid still had zero clue that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had the biggest crush on him.

It really did start out as just an innocent crush. The way Spencer constantly seemed to gravitate towards (Y/N)'s cubicle, the way he always seemed to agree with (Y/N)'s profiles or the way Hotch constantly paired the two up when working a case.

So if you really thought about it, it was technically all Hotch's fault.

He had to have known that (Y/N)'s already budding affection for the Spencer would turn into something other than platonic.

It wasn't unjustified of (Y/N) to have a crush, I mean how could someone not have a crush on the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid?

From his charming smile, to that stupidly adorable satchel he carried around...(Y/N) honestly should've quit the first day she saw him if she wanted any chance of making it out alive.

And yet, no matter how many times he walked up to her desk to ask her opinion on a case. The crush only grew stronger.

The team certainly didn't help either.

"He never asks for my opinion on cases." Derek teased, leaning over (Y/N)'s cubicle wall. A cup of joe grasped tightly in his hand.

Before (Y/N) could answer, Emily chimed in. "Me neither!"

Both Derek and Emily looked towards Garcia who was on her way back to her 'BatCave' after dropping some files off on Hotch's desk.

"Nope!" She replied, already knowing the question that was soon to be flung at her.

Well that certainly had to mean something. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel heat rise to her cheeks as she realized just how often Spencer came clambering over to her desk asking about cases and reports.

Derek laughed, patting (Y/N) on the shoulder before returning to the report he'd been dragging his feet on all day.

----

Later that day, as (Y/N)'s workload was down to a few pieces of paperwork and a handful of emails. She found herself waltzing over to Spencer's desk, leaning against the cubicle in an attempt to seem relaxed.

It took a few moments for Reid to realize she was there, but when he did his big brown eyes trailed upwards like a puppy looking to it's owner.

He smiled, opening his mouth to talk but she cut him off beforehand. "Have you had lunch?" She asked boldly, mentally she was screaming at herself because of course Spencer had lunch. The man ran on a schedule.

A schedule she knew like the back of her hand.

"Oh! Yeah! I had leftover pad-thai." He smiles, his pen tapping against the desk rhythmically. (Y/N) let out a small "ohh..", trailing off into thought.

Spencer smiled at her, "...Did you need help on a case?" He asked, "No!" She shouted, before clearing her throat.

"No. I um- I wanted to see...if..." (Y/N) took a deep breath before biting the bullet. She was going to do this because she wanted too, because she wanted to spend time with Spencer. Alone.

"I wanted to see if you would be interested in accompanying me to the vending machine." She said, immediately regretting it when Spencer's brows furrowed and his head tilted.

"It's just down the hall?" He questioned, giving (Y/N) a puzzled look. "I don't like the snacks in that one." (Y/N) lied, she actually only liked the snacks in that one.

That totally wasn't the reason she originally wanted to be in the BAU though.

Spencer thought for a moment before he stood up, grabbing his water bottle on the way before waiting for (Y/N) to lead the way.

----

"Y'know, Derek's jealous." (Y/N) joked as they waited for the elevator to meet the bottom floor. "Jealous? Jealous of who?" He asked, his voice hitching like it always did when he asked a question.

"Of me" (Y/N) mumbled, trying to hide her smirk. "...because you don't ask him for help with cases...only me." (Y/N) added, the context causing Reid to laugh softly.

"Seriously? I thought Derek had a much stronger ego than that." He joked, (Y/N) wrinkled their nose up in laughter as the duo stepped out into the lobby of the building. Now in pursuit of the vending machines.

"I like how you format your reports." Reid commented as they turned a corner, in all honesty (Y/N) had zero clue where she was headed but as long as she pretended to be know where she was going, which she was scarily good at, Spencer would follow along.

"Really? Hotch said Strauss complained about them the first few times." (Y/N) remarked, a sense of pride spreading over her chest. Spencer liked the way she wrote her reports.

"It's easy to follow, but still detailed." He complimented, (Y/N) felt their ears turning a light shade of red.

----

After a lot of dead ends ( (Y/N) had words for the person who designed this building.), the duo had finally found the Lobby-Level vending machine.

"Y'know Florida holds the record for the most vending machines." Spencer noted as (Y/N) searched for what she wanted.

"Really?" She entertained. Unlike most of the team, (Y/N) never actually got tired of hearing Spencer's facts and statistics. In fact, she quite enjoyed them.

"Yeah! Texas and California being close runner-ups." He smiled, excited she'd taken interest in the fact he had spewed. "Don't mess with Texas." (Y/N) joked as she dialed in the correct numbers for the treats she wanted.

"That's all your eating for lunch?" Spencer asked, eyebrow raised. "It's not like we're traveling today, I don't need lots." (Y/N) shrugged. "But that's it? Just hot fudge Pop-Tarts and a box of Runts??" Spencer questioned.

"I'll be fine, you worry too much." (Y/N) laughed, picking up their treats and tucking them into her purse. Spencer rolled his eyes as he moved his hair away from his face.

As the two made their way back upstairs, (Y/N) couldn't help but stand a bit closer to Spencer. Even if there was nobody else there.

"Y'know Reid, your the only one I consult on cases too." (Y/N) shared, nervously biting the inside of her cheek as Spencer took a moment to reply.

"I know." Spencer replied, a smile evident in his tone. "Of course you know." (Y/N) teased, stepping out of the elevator.

Spencer laughed, beginning to make his way back over to his desk.

----

A few weeks had passed and Spencer hadn't missed a single trip down to the lobby vending machine.

"Y'know, you don't have to come with me." (Y/N) said, feeling bad she'd dragged Spencer away from his paperwork at least once a day.

"I know, but what if the vending machine like...falls on you?" Spencer joked, though the worry had popped up a few times in his mind. "In what world would that ever happen??" (Y/N) asked as she waited for her box of Runts to fall from the spiral.

"37 deaths happened just in the years 1978-1995." Spencer spewed, causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes. "Well, if that happens to me I promise you can sue to FBI and keep the money." She joked, picking up the boxed candy.

Spencer wrinkled his nose, "I don't want money, I want my coworker." He said. (Y/N) felt their heart beat faster. "Really? You'd take me over winning a lawsuit and getting rich?" She asked, eyes meeting his as he leaned against the wall.

"(Y/N), if I wanted to be rich I'd play more poker." He joked, causing (Y/N) to stifle a laugh. "It's still sweet." She mumbled, causing a light pink blush to spread across Spencer's face.

Holy Shit. She'd done it.

After working for him for over three years, after tirelessly trying to flirt with the man. She'd gotten Dr. Spencer Reid to blush.

Spencer blinked a few times before taking a deep breath, "Uh- are you going to Rossi's after work?" He asked, obviously trying to switch the subject.

(Y/N) didn't answer. Still flabbergasted over the fact Spencer Reid blushed because of her.

Spencer waited a reply, switching between glancing over at her and up to check the how many floors until they reached theirs.

"...(Y/N)?" He asked, his tone turning to one of concern.

Maybe it was the fact that (Y/N) had been surviving off of vending machine food for lunch everyday just to spend time with Spencer.

Or maybe it was the fact she'd waited 3+ years to get a blush out of Spencer.

Either way it didn't matter, because (Y/N)'s mouth started speaking before she could determine if what she was saying was a good idea.

"I like you." She said, there was no taking it back now. Not even the butterflies that instantly appeared in her stomach could take away what she'd just said.

Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Three. Years." She breathed. "I have liked you for over three years, Spencer." She said, her voice more confident now.

"(Y/N)-" Spencer's eyes glanced at the electronical sign that told him what floor they were on just for a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

"Over three years, I have...flirted with you, bought you gifts, I learned how to play chess." (Y/N) listed off on her fingers, the butterflies in her stomach turning to wasps.

"You love chess?" He said, tilting his head in confusion.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT?" (Y/N) yelled, "I hate chess. It's the most boring board game there is. My favorite board game is CANDYLAND." (Y/N) continued.

"I have put my love life on pause for over three years." (Y/N)'s voiced filled the elevator.

"For, you." She continued.

Her voice was so powerful, so full of frustration and desire that neither of the Agents heard the elevator 'Ding!' nor the door open.

"Spencer Reid you are the smartest idiot I have ever met." She finished, taking a deep breath.

The silence that followed was so thick, it couldn't have been cut with a butter knife.

"...I like you too, (Y/N)." Spencer muttered out, a deep shade of red overtaking his face.

Cheers.

Spencer and (Y/N) whipped their head towards the elevator doors, finally realizing that they'd opened.

There Derek and Garcia stood, cheering. Derek's arm in the way of the doors closing as Garcia excitedly bounced up in down spewing out excited nonsense. "Finally! Finally!" She cheered, her hair bouncing excitedly.

(Y/N)'s face turned hot with embarrassment as she looked between all three of her colleagues. Spencer's face was still red, but it was unclear for what reason.

(Y/N) pushed past both Garcia and Derek. Making a beeline for her desk, grabbing her car keys and rushing to the stairwell because the elevators were still too crowded.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Spencer called after her, his lanky legs struggling to keep up. Reid didn't think he'd ever seen her run this fast in the field.

(Y/N), of course did not wait.

----

After both Garcia and Emily confirmed that (Y/N) hadn't quit her job out of pure embarrassment, all that was left to do is wait.

Hotch informed Spencer that (Y/N) would be coming back to work after a week, she'd used a whole sick week just to avoid the embarrassment.

Well, a week was up and Spencer was pacing by his desk looking at both the clock on the wall and his watch as if that would make time go by any faster.

Thankfully, the bundle of flowers he picked up from the supermarket yesterday hadn't begun to wilt. The hot fudge Pop-Tarts and box of runts were waiting patiently for (Y/N) to walk out of the elevator any second.

Spencer, however, was not waiting as patiently. "Kid, if you walk in one more circle your gonna tear the carpet." Derek mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the paperwork.

"What if she took another week off? What if she really did quit-"

DING!

Spencer's eyes immediately met yours as soon as you stepped into the bullpen. Then, he watched as your eyes trailed down to the flowers and treats he'd displayed on your desk.

A sweet smile was shared between the two of you. Spencer took initiation (it was only fair, you'd only been leading the way for over three years) and walked over to you, ignoring Derek's whispered encouragement.

"Spence, this is so sweet but...I think if I eat one more Pop-Tart I'm gonna actually need a sick week." (Y/N) said, laughing quietly.

"I KNEW IT!" Spencer yelled, causing her laughs to grow louder.

"You really are the smartest idiot I know." She joked, causing Spencer to roll his eyes.

Spencer smiled, "I uh...there's this place I like to go for lunch if-"

"Oh my god, yes." (Y/N) breathed, excitedly holding onto Spencer's arm. Spencer laughed, nodding.

"It's a date."

#criminal minds fluff #criminal minds preferences #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds headcannons #criminal minds drabbles #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid headcannons #dr spencer reid

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justkending · 9 months

Text

It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created.

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me.

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?”

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt.

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.”

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare.

He ignored him and rolled his eyes.

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already.

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately.

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.”

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs.

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen.

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets.

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself.

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed.

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips.

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me.

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far.

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside.

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around.

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way.

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.”

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands.

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it.

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it.

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean.

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself.

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on.

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders.

He was in the perfect position for my plan.

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him.

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place.

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it.

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me.

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it.

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months.

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold.

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited.

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him.

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath.

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off.

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute.

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly.

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him.

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge.

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better.

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust.

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.”

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before.

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over.

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game.

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs.

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly.

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs.

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt.

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own.

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back.

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head.

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure.

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power.

Two can play that game.

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips.

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect.

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips.

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit.

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet.

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me.

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it.

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately.

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about.

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed.

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed.

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled.

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places.

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up.

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily.

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered.

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued.

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.”

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.”

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.”

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of.

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me.

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.”

“What side?” I looked up at him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back.

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader drabble #dean winchester drabble #justkending #spn fanfic #dean winchester spn #dean winchester x you #spn dean winchester #drabble #spn drabble

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Text

Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Intro

He says he can make you understand his way of love, that he can help you awaken desires you never knew you had. You give him seven days to prove it.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements (only discussed), mild Angst, mentions of body dismorphia, mentions of past trauma and low self-esteem, fluff, slow burn, they have chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of revenge porn, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), it's not a heavy chapter but people complain I don't tag enough so here you go, SFW

Length: 2k

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡

A/N: This is an intro post which contains no smut. You can skip this one if other works have been posted, but much of the plot won't make sense without this.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook is a pretty talented guy.

Film director, photographer, occasional model by accident whenever he's seen at events. Apart from that, he values his privacy, has it all figured out how to keep his friends and family and everything else behind closed doors, and it's how you met him- a simple friend of Taehyung's, your former roommate and now best friend of almost five years. At first, Jungkook had thought you and Tae were more than friends- but he had quickly figured it out, had explained that he's got simply good senses when it came to reading people.

You didn't think much of it.

Then, a few weeks later after getting to know him, you had all sat in Jungkook's living room, eating takeout and drinking a little, when Taehyung had to leave early after a friend had called him. It was the first time you were left alone with Jungkook, who had kindly offered to drive you home later, once you want to leave. You'd told him about your hobbies- crocheting being one of them, and he had smiled about that. And excited as you were, you had mentioned how the top you'd been wearing was actually made by you- but that you thought the back looked boring, so you never wore it without a little jacket. He had offered to tie some decorative knots in the back, later showing his work off to you- and you had asked how he knew how to do that.

It's how you found out about that.. other side of him.

It took you weeks of dancing around the topic, until you were finally back at his place, as he wipes his hands with a wet wipe, leaning back against his couch. Evenings like these are common between you two, after all, Jungkook is a safe person to you- he won't ever make you uncomfortable, and if he does, you can just say so, and he'll adjust accordingly. It's something you really like about him- one of many things. "You can ask about it, you know?" He chuckles out of nowhere, and you look up at him. "You're curious. Taehyung had told me." He explains, and you can't help but groan dramatically, well aware what Taehyung had told him you were curious about.

"Taehyung can't ever really not spill secrets, can he?" You mumble angrily at yourself, putting down your chopsticks as you lean back, and Jungkook notices immediately how you seem to close off from him at the topic. He knows a lot more about you than you think- but still. He wants you to tell him yourself, too.

"Well, that's who he is." Jungkook shrugs because of that, trying to make you as comfortable as he can by treating the topic as something normal- which is exactly what it is to him, after all. "So?" He asks, and you squirm around a bit.

"So like.. you tie people up?" You ask, and he can't help but laugh. He get's this a lot after all, Taehyung having worried Jungkook might be some sort of sadist who hurts people in a dungeon of some sorts- something that happens, true, but always consensual, down the line. It's a pretty complicated topic, he admits that, and because of that, he can understand both the curiosity and judgement towards it.

It's not everyone's cup of tea, and that's fine, too.

"If they want me to, sure." He shrugs, smiling. "Some people like that. It gives them a feeling of comfort and security, and I like the aesthetic of it." Jungkook explains, picking up his glass of water, to take a sip, watching how you seem to think about it. "Not your thing?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"Like, what if you want to get out or something?" You ask, and Jungkook across from you seems nonchalant about it. After all, shibari and bondage are the most.. tame things he practices and enjoys.

"Then I'll let them out. Either untie them or cut the ropes, easy." He shrugs again, leaning back. "Saying No makes everything stop, after all." He easily mentions- and you grow silent at that.

You remember when you said no back in your last relationship. Sure, things stop- but the uncomfortable aftermath of it is all your fault, awkward silence and the weight of having ruined a perfectly fine experience hanging heavy on your mind for the rest of the day- sometimes even several days. Saying no is weird, it's awkward, especially when you're just being overly anxious about things that aren't even all that bad.

You've decided that sex just isn't for you, ever since then. You'll just.. do it yourself.

"A no is a no." Jungkook suddenly says, and when you look up, he looks awfully serious. "No matter what." He underlines his statement, and you shrug uncomfortably. He knows from Taehyung that your last relationship wasn't a good one- mental abuse and pressure put on you to fit you into a mold made for you by the guy you'd loved. He'd told you he was 'fixing' you, constantly belittled or ignored you, and even threatened to release intimate videos of you allegedly taken by him if you were to ever say something bad about him.

Jungkook had been worried, but Taehyung insisted that after helping you find a lawyer, it had been revealed that none of those videos even existed, because you rarely ever even had sex to begin with.

"Yeah maybe- but then it's awkward and weird." You shake your head as you explain your standpoint. "Like, I can't imagine doing stuff like that. Taehyung said you do a whole lot of other stuff too- and like, I don't judge, really!" You explain yourself, waving him off. "Sex, like, with another person is just not my thing. I don't like it." You shake your head, closing the empty cardboard food container in front of you.

"Feel free to correct me-" He starts his sentence carefully, not looking at you as to not pressure you with eye contact. After all, he knows how to behave around people, it's one of the most important skills as someone in his position. "-but it sounds more like something has made you dislike sex with someone else." He offers.

"Yeah maybe." You mumble. "Or maybe I just realized that I'm better off.. doing it myself." You say mostly to yourself. "I'm not good at this stuff. Having sex with someone else is awkward, and weird."

"Is that why you never let me close?" He asks, and you freeze.

Caught you.

It's true that you and Jungkook have undeniable.. chemistry. He's nice, kind, a little childish but in a good way- he plays around with you with such ease, makes it clear that he's seriously interested in you by not only flirting, but also actively trying to participate in your life. He offers to drive you to appointments, texts daily, meets up with you whenever he's got the time for it. He initiates physical touch whenever appropriate, praises you, and it's also pretty obvious on your side that all these things affect you. You like him, you really do-

but that side of him intimidates you too much to really involve yourself with him. Once you have.. or more so, try to have sex with him, your friendship will be ruined, and any potential for a romance with him shattered. But considering how he loves intimacy, there's no chance for a relationship anyways, right?

"…maybe." You mumble, not looking at him.

"What exactly scares you about that part?" He wonders. He's genuinely curious if he can do anything to help you be more comfortable with the idea of loving someone physically again. It's fine if you really just don't want this- he won't ever push you into anything, but considering your past experiences and clear interest in him, he wants to at least try. Not just to figure out what's making you this anxious about this aspect of a relationship, but more so, to figure out how he can make you feel comfortable with him.

He likes you, after all, he really does. And he wants to somehow make this work between you both, even if that means that he will have to adjust his sex-life.

"It doesn't scare me.." You try and deny as if to defend yourself, but he just leans back a little, relaxing in his posture.

"Sounds like it, though. And it's not stupid to be scared of sex if you've made bad experiences in the past." He offers. "Natural reaction. Nothing bad about it, really." He says further.

"Okay, yeah, I'm scared of it!" You wave your hands up in defeat. "Because I suck at it, I don't like stuff, it's weird-" You start, and he chuckles.

"What did you do?" He wonders. "Genuinely. I'm curious." He asks. You shrug. But you don't shut him out, and he eagerly takes that chance.

"What you do, you know. Like, normal stuff." You shrug. "But I don't know- it was uncomfortable, and hurt, and so we stopped back then and it got super awkward." You explain in shame. "He said I just can't take anything and that I'm too sensitive. So I guess I'll just do stuff myself and that's it." You reveal, making Jungkook hum in thought.

"Was it your first time?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"My first time was fine. Not like, great, but it was fine." You say, unsure as you reach for a glass of water on the table.

"So he was just shit in bed, got it." Jungkook nods to himself. "Is that why you seem so uncomfortable with yourself?" He asks, and you look up at him, confused. "You always adjust the way you sit, you cover up even when it's hot, you don't like pictures taken of you and you basically hide yourself whenever you can. Which is confusing, because you're honestly really pretty." He tells you, and you sigh. "No, really." He adds on. "There's nothing wrong with your body or your looks. It's pretty frustrating to me to see you so insecure and anxious about it when there's nothing to hide or be ashamed of." He tells you.

"You say that 'cause you wanna be like, the cool guy who shows the poor shy girl what sex is like." You huff, crossing your legs as you look at your hands.

"Not quite. I don't just want to fuck you." He chuckles. "But I wouldn't say no if you were to let me show you a thing or two." He laughs playfully.

"I'm not letting you tie me up." You threaten.

"Yet." He responds teasingly, and you turn a bit red at that, unable to not think about a scenario like that. Now that you think about it.. would it be that bad? You trust Jungkook, after all. In a way, you'd probably let him do that.

"You act like you could change my mind about your whole… BDSM thing in, like a week." You scoff, and he grins.

"Interesting that you know what the scene is called." He calls you out, and your eyes widen a bit as you realize you've been caught red handed. Because in reality, you have done some research into this whole stuff, just to kind of.. look around, so to say. "And a week seems.. a bit short, but sure." He shrugs, watching you.

"Wait, what?" You wonder, looking at him.

"Sure, let's start Monday, right after this weekend." He proposes. "One week, and if I don't find anything that's your taste, anything you like, I'll admit defeat." He tells you.

"One week?" You ask, and he nods, holding out his hand for you to take.

"One week." He repeats again, as you take his hand-

sealing the deal.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

The Great Escape

Warnings: allusions to non con/dubcon, kidnapping, drugging and other possible dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Here is another wish! This one with Lloyd.

Please leave some feedback so I know you want me to do more of the wishes I got. Otherwise, I find it hard to keep my motivation.

Wish Corrupted: I wish Steve or Lloyd (dealers choice - I'm feeling indecisive today) would save me from my crazy, stress-filled job and give me more free time to enjoy my hobbies (reading, crocheting, quilting, or baking).

You hit the bar on the door. It doesn’t budge. You look up frantically at the beaming red EXIT sign above. You hit it again, again. You throw your body against the metal barrier, the calm footsteps closing in beneath the rampant puff of your breath.

“Real cute to see ya try, princess, but I’m doing you a goddamn favour,” his voice rolls down the hallways towards you.

You turn, pressing yourself to the door, pushing your elbows back as you continue your struggle to find some give. His shadow is skewed by the emergency lights, the stale office made sinister by the outage. You whimper. Who is this man?

“Aw, you don’t gotta be scared,” he silhouette reaches up with his pistol, scratching his head nonchalantly with the barrel, “but I can’t say it doesn’t fill my balls with joy.”

“Who are you?” You breath, choking on a sob as he struts closer, steps slow but startling. He doesn’t hurry, he knows you have nowhere to go. “Please, I… I didn’t do anything. Don’t hurt me.”

“I told you, kitten, you don’t needa be scared,” he coos, “I’m not gonna hurt you… much.” He snickers, the hall darkening the closer he gets, “I’m gonna do you a real big favour.”

You sink down to your knees. The door isn’t opening. You’re trapped. You put and arm up as you slump against the metal, waiting for the end. This psycho is going to murder you.

“Just don’t move,” he slithers as he stops before you.

He crouches and brings the silencer under your chin forcing it up. You bat your lashes and peer up at him. His face is lost in the dark. He tuts as pushes the barrel firm against you.

“Such a pretty face,” he purrs, “all you gotta do is hold still.”

There is no sudden explosion of gunpowder, no bang, just a prick. You slap your neck and he pulls away, chuckling as he holds up the long syringe. You brace the door with your other arm and whine.

“What was that?” You croak.

“Shhh,” he says, “deep breaths.”

Your muscles slacken, your lungs grow heavy, and your head wobbles. You lean into the door as the strength drains from you, eyelids drooping as the world tilts dangerously. The blackness of your subconscious swallows you up before you collapse.

💉

You come to slowly. Your body is stiff and your head is muddy. Your eyes open bit by bit, taking in the expanse of the strange room. The unfamiliarity fills you with dread. What is this place? How did you get here?

You can’t remember. You groan and touch your head, your hand clumsy, seeming almost detached from the rest of you. It takes all your effort to sit up. You gape at the pink skirt across your lap, the scalloped hem, and the tight cinch of the belt around your waist. You never wore anything like that.

You plant your hand on the cushy mattress beneath you and lean on your arm as you steady yourself. You let your eyes explore. The wooden bedframe, the frilly edge of the sheets poking out from beneath the duvet, the round rug beneath the bed, the matching night table; every piece pristine and exact. Like the replica of a fifties sitcom.

You turn your head. There’s a double-wide dresser with a mirror over it. Your reflection gives you a start. You shift your body to face yourself. You watch as you stand, as if you’re looking at someone else. The pink dress buttons up the bodice, cap sleeves top your shoulders, and a round collar frames your neck.

You lean forward, hands on the dresser as you gape at yourself. This can’t be. Where are you? Who are you? No more stiff-cut blazer, no tucked blouse, no tailored pants. It’s a twisted joke.

The door opens but you can’t bring yourself to move. You glance at it from the mirror. A man enters but you can only see to his shoulders. He stops just inside the door.

“You’re awake,” he says flatly, “nice to have you back in the land of the living, buttercup.”

The voice sends a shiver through you. You know it. You close your eyes and see the flashing emergency lights, the nearing shadows, feel the cold barrel on your chin. You spin to face the man and look at him head-on.

His hair is slicked back, his sides buzzed, a trim of bristly hair across his lip, a singular flaw in an otherwise handsome face. A stranger, like the woman in the mirror. You grip the edge of the dresser and stare at him.

He laughs and reaches for you. You cower as he caresses your cheek.

“I couldn’t figure out the makeup so you’ll have to do all that,” he says.

“What– what is this?”

He snorts and tilts his head, letting his hand fall down your throat. He inhales as his eyes follow his touch and he plays with your collar.

“Not much of a thanks,” he hooks his finger under the top of your dress and draws you away from the dress. He keeps you close as he watches you placidly, “you’re free, sunshine.”

“What? Free?”

“That corporate wheel was grinding you down,” he intones, “it’s your turn to do the grinding.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. He sweeps his other arm around you, groping your ass as he pulls you flush to him.

“Keep me happy, and I’ll do the same,” he rocks you with him, “eight hours at a desk or a couple minutes on your knees, I know what I’d choose.”

You blink at him in horror.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have more than enough time to catch up on that book,” he affirms.

“Book?”

He nods towards the bed and you notice the familiar curled corner. The same book you’ve kept on your coffee table for months, the one you never had the time or energy to finish. You gulp and look back at him.

“No more spreadsheets, cupcake,” he winks, “but you’ll damn sure be spreading those legs.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #corrupt-a-wish #the gray man

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ravencincaide · 5 months

Text

This little thing

Summary: Not every woman wants their boyfriend to buy them everything they lay their eyes on. It was just excessive. Unfortunately for you, that’s something that Chuuya still struggles with. Or the time Chuuya got you one meaningful gift instead of 50 just-because ones.

Pairing: Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 11: Shopping

Hope you enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

“ Chuu, are you really getting all those felted bunnies for yourself?”

You did little to hide your teasing smile as you stared at your boyfriend's confused expression, his arms filled to the brim with at least fifty handmade animals in all shapes, colours and sizes. All of them were soft; either knitted, crochet or felted and all with exquisite details. Hearing your comment he looked down at his arms, seeming to just realize he may have overdone it slightly. Turning his head left and then right, he quickly came to the realization that there was little place in the small shed for him to place them down. It wasn’t long until the 50 or so animals were levitating in the air between you.

“ So pass on the bunnies” Chuuya agreed, flickering his eyes towards the shelf furthest away where he took them from. All twenty of them returned to the shelf in neat little lines. You watched with an amazed expression on your face, always fascinated by his ability whenever he used it. Which was rare around you. “ Sweetheart?”

You closed your mouth and turned away from the bunnies and back to your boyfriend and the remaining thirty animals levitating around him. Not a single duplicate, each one slightly different than the next, in one way or another one. “ Why so many Chuu?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side.

Chuuya watched your expression carefully before raising his hand and rested it on your cheek. The leather of his glove felt cool on your skin, the touch loving. Even if you’d wish he took those damned things off when around you. “ Because you like this sort of thing”

You blinked in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out where he got that idea from, before it finally clicked. “ Do you mean the felted fox I have in my bookshelf? The one my mum made for me before I moved out?”

“ It looked like it could use a few friends” was all he said, his eyes looking at you with such adoration you could have sworn you hung the moon. Or something. But you could see past that loving expression and down to the emotion which triggered this behavior of excessively buying you anything you could remotely like, let alone want or need. Each date would end with your hands full of different gift bags and presents as if you had just gone Christmas shopping for your entire family instead of spending a few hours together. So now when you were actually out to look around the autumn market with intentions to buy some random cute or practical autumn items you were terrified of how many more things your sweet yet excessive boyfriend would bestow upon you.

“ Love” you called and pressed a hand against his cheek feeling him instantly lean into the touch“ You don’t need to buy me anything, you don’t need to bribe me with gifts and trinkets to keep me. I’m gonna remain your girlfriend even if you get me nothing. So please- no excessive shopping.” You plead hoping you could get through to him. Reluctantly three more animals returned to their shelves.

Only 27 more to go.

“ It shouldn’t be a problem for me to buy things for my girlfriend.” He pressed a quick peck to your lips, clearly deciding that this would be the end of this conversation. You, however, were not planning to give up until all the animals returned to their rightful place.

“ Chuu we talked about this” you mumbled, letting your hand drop away from his cheek and pressing your fingers against your forehead, above the bridge of your nose. You were fighting off the oncoming headache “ You know that when you just pile on things on me like this it makes me feel inherently guilty and indebted to you. I know it’s not what you’re after- I honestly do- but it also makes it harder for me to say no to you when I really should.”

“ You never need to feel that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “ You know I’d never ask for anything that you don’t want or aren’t ready for.”

You looked up at him as he moved your fingers away from your forehead and clasped them tightly in his hand. His lips were quick to replace them, the gentle touch beginning to ease the frown. “ Chuu please” you begged “ We can compromise on something somewhere else okay? I really don’t want anything from here and if you keep buying me things I show a slight interest in I’ll not have enough space for the truly precious gifts you get me.”

You watched him hesitating, the gears in his head turning as he fought back the argument that ‘you could just move in with him’ or he could ‘buy you a bigger place or storage space’. Thankfully even Chuuya realized that your relationship was not at that point, yet. “ Fine” he muttered, pulling back and pushing his hat over his eyes as the remaining animals returned to their shelf.

“ Thank you Chuu” You gave him a peck on the lips, trying to ignore how pouty he looked. Like the thought of not gifting you the entire store physically hurt him “ Now that we’ve checked this place out, wanna head towards the fall market stalls? I heard the farmers outdid themselves this year with fall-themed treats and pastries!”

Before Chuuya replied, you grabbed his hand and turned around, starting to head for the door.

Just then something off to the side, hanging on the wall, partially obscured by numerous knitted hats and gloves, caught your eye. It was a hanger full of white hand-knitted floor-length scarf that resembled more a small blanket than something practical. It was full of intricate designs in various shades of white. From this distance you couldn’t fully tell what the designs were, but you were certain they were just as detailed as the rest of the items in the shop- if not more. You were captivated by the way it shimmered from a distance; the shift of silver, icy and blue colours depending on how the light hit it. But most importantly, it looked soft and warm, like a hug that would protect its wearer against even the coldest and most bone chilling Japanese winter days. It was clearly a handmade thing- a unique one of kind that you had never before seen. And you were certain you’d never see a second of its kind again. God you wanted to look at it closer, run your fingers over the material to see if it was as soft as it looked.

You bit your lip in thought.

Then deciding that it would make you too much of a hypocrite if you were to go and buy the first thing your eyes lingered on after you just scolded Chuuya for doing just that. So you turned your back on it and headed outside the small store pulling your boyfriend behind you.

You regretted your choice almost the second you step outside; the autumn sun was quick to set while you were browsing inside the warm stall, letting the chilly autumn night air set in. The wet coldness seemed to crawl past your clothes and chill you to your core despite the five layers you were wearing. A scarf would have been nice, you mused to yourself bitterly.

Still proud and stubborn however, you refused to turn around and get it. Instead you took a look around the sea of people before picking a direction at random. It wasn’t long until you and Chuuya were walking side by side, admiring the handiwork:, from hand carved wooden toys and games to weaved socks and sweaters. It didn’t take long until you arrived at the part of the market which sold food; jams, cheeses and meats, fall vegetables and even pumpkins together with a pumpkin carving contest.

“ Sweetheart shall we get some hot chocolate?” You turned to look at your boyfriend who nodded in the direction of a semi-long line. All it took was another blow of the chilly wind for you to agree. Indeed you nodded, hot chocolate sounded like a splendid idea to warm up. Almost too eager you went to the queue wondering what sorts of flavors they had to offer. You stood ahead of Chuuya in line, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed. Gently you moved from one foot to another, a soft rocking motion that kept you warmer and seemed to make your boyfriend sleepier.

You hated to admit it but if it got any colder you’d probably have to call it a day early, independently of how much more of this market you got to see. The thought made a wave of disappointment wash over you, this was one of the few together-activities that you were really looking forward to and wouldn't get to re-experience until next year!

“ Sweetheart, can you get me the dark one with marshmallows?” Chuuya asked after five minutes of waiting, breaking your trail of thought.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion “ Sure, you going somewhere?”

“ Just give me a moment” Chuuya pressed a kiss to your neck, his cold nose making you shiver, before he disappeared into the masses, somehow perfectly blending in despite how lightly dressed he was, on top of wearing his hat and black coat which swayed behind him with each step. Although his clothes were stunning on him, they did make him stand out among the masses of warm coats and gloves. You looked after him before shaking your head and turning back to count the number of heads that were left before it was your turn. Concluding it was ‘many’ you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself missing Chuuya’s embrace more than ever.

It took you another ten minutes until you got hot chocolate for you both. Once you got the two large cups overflowing with goonesses you began facing the dilemma of where you’d find Chuuya. Looking left, then right you made your way towards a small empty table to the side of the stall and set your mugs down there. Before you could reach for your phone, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you closely to his chest. “ Hmm smells good. Wait long sweetheart?”

“ Not at all” You smiled as he nuzzled into you before moving back from you. The action confused you: you turned your body to face him, your back leaned against the table momentarily forgetting about the chocolate and the coldness.

“ Here Y/N” Chuuya stated as he held up the paperbag towards you, looking to the side. His face looked flushed, something between embarrassed and guilty, with a redness that not even the chilly autumn wind could achieve.

You looked skeptic for a moment before carefully taking the bag from him. You watched his hand drop to his side and he still wasn’t looking at you, perhaps because he was expecting that you’d scold him for it. In fact you could see him sigh heavily, clenching and unclenching his fist in nervousness.

You turned your attention away from Chuuya and towards the white wrapping tissue which kept the gift inside obscured. With careful fingers you moved the paper aside before you gasped. Inside was the fluffy white scarf, looking even more stunning than it did on the hanger.

“ Ohh Chuuya-baby you shouldn’t have” you mumbled in shock trailing your fingers carefully over the hand embroidered design of a shimmering- glittering snowflake. The material was much softer than you could have imagined. “ It must have been so expensive.”

“ Do you like it?” he asked carefully, still cautious in case he had somehow offended you.

“ I love it” you looked up at him with a huge smile on your face. “ This is the best and most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given me, thank you so so soooo much Chuu!”

He chuckled at your excitement before reaching for the bag, intending to help you wrap yourself up in it. As he draped the warm material over your shoulders you grabbed the front of his jacket and crashed your lips together in a long, grateful kiss. It took him less than a second to reciprocate, his lips moving against yours. The kiss was deep yet sweet and gentle, neither rushed nor sexy-passionate. Still it was a kiss you’d remember for a long time.

After all, there was just something magical about kissing Chuuya in the middle of the autumn market, surrounded by people, lights and under the warmths of the most thoughtful and caring gift your boyfriend had ever gifted you. Even if with each kiss the hot chocolate behind you grew colder and colder..

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #sweetober #Chuuya sweetness #caring boyfriend #autumn market #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #buying thoughtful gifts #Cold sweetness

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sweet-s0rr0w · 8 months

Text

Microfic: I Must Be Lonely

A late birthday microfic, written for the wonderful @getawayfox (look, it balances out @wolfpants' gift which was a couple of weeks early, alright? That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.) Happy happy birthday to fandom's loveliest quadruple threat (writer, artist, reccer, beta/cheerreader). I hope you had a brilliant day! <3

T, 1.8k, no warnings. @drarrymicrofic prompt Simple. Thanks to @tackytigerfic for Irish picking and usual brilliance. This one is also for everyone else who hates night shifts!

Another night shift at the Ministry security desk. If boredom doesn’t get you, the vampires probably will, Draco thinks, sourly. That’s at least half exaggeration, though: Sanguini and his colleagues are always impeccably behaved, hurrying between meetings with barely a glint of incisor on show. But the boredom: now that part’s no joke. Nothing much happens in the Ministry after hours – by midnight, even the most dedicated workaholics have reluctantly ducked into the Floo, leaving Draco to his books, or his fantasy Quidditch, or (briefly and unsuccessfully) his crochet. Sometimes he gets lucky – a disaster necessitating the presence of the on-call Mishaps and Maladies team at the Ministry, perhaps, or an international visitor who’s messed up the time difference – but for the most part it’s lonely work.

Every night, Draco watches as two of the house elves work their slow, methodical way across the Atrium floor from either end, mopping and polishing and casting anti-slip charms until they meet just in front of his desk, some time around five o’clock. Things always get better after that, with the sun rising in the charmed windows and the slow downhill slide until six-thirty, that blessed hour when Draco mumbles his greetings to the day staff, pulling the hood of his robes up to cover his tired eyes, and slopes off towards the Floos.

Midnight until five, then, that’s the difficult time. That’s the hungry but nauseous time, the clammy but shivery time, the grumpy, gloomy, desperately weary time. Helpfully, it’s often the time the morons from the DMLE show up, high on adrenaline and testosterone and god knows what department-approved stimulants, and often, inexplicably, looking to chat utter rubbish.

“Hey! Everyone, look, it’s Malfoy!” bellows Finnigan, his voice rattling through Draco’s skull after three hours of total silence. He marches up to Draco’s desk, at the head of a group of what might appear, at first glance, to be drunken teenagers, but which Draco knows is actually made up of fairly senior Aurors. “How’re things, Malfoy? Ministry treating you well, I hope?”

Draco straightens his robes, shoving his folded up copy of the Prophet out of sight.

“It’s been a good day, Malfoy,” Finnigan continues, clearly not interested in waiting for Draco’s response. “A bloody good day, you know?” His grin is wide and toothy as he thumps his clenched fist against his chest and flings his head back. “Another victory in the fight for truth and justice, and all that’s―”

“Alright, Seamus,” says a voice from the back of the crowd. “Leave him alone, yeah?”

“Hey! Harry! Here’s the hero of the hour! C’mere.” Finnigan tucks a firm arm around Potter’s neck, pulling him forwards, until he’s shoved up against the front of the reception desk, smiling apologetically. “See,” says Finnigan, and his pupils are barely visible when he leans closer, “another bunch of Muggle-hating scumbags behind bars, and it’s all thanks to Hazza here. Good triumphs over evil again, and the world—”

“—hang on Seamus, isn’t that stuff classified?” cuts in Longbottom – who, as far as Draco can tell, is still every bit as much fun as he’d been at school.

“Oh, give over, Neville,” Finnigan spits, mercifully turning away from Draco, “I didn’t say who it was, did I? Classified would be if I’d said oi, Malfoy, d’you know they’re running a Muggle fighting ring out the back of the Reaper’s Arms—?” There’s a collective groan. “What?”

“You’re such a twat, Seamus,” says a short-haired witch next to Neville, folding her arms.

“Oh, I’m a twat, am I?”

“Yeah. You are.”

Then someone else starts up, voices crowding over each other in an unbearable racket. Draco rests back in his chair, closing his eyes, his tired mind picturing the little yapping Crups that Mother’s friend Verity used to bring over; the ones Mother pretended to coo over even while they left puddles of piss on the Persian carpet.

A shadow falls across his desk: it’s Potter, leaning forwards, blocking out the harsh glare of Lumos off the wall tiles. When Draco blinks and looks up, he finds that Potter’s shivering a little, his hair damp and stuck to his forehead. “Sorry about that lot,” he says, softly. “You know how they can get.”

“It’s fine,” Draco says, tightly. “Nice work on the, er, Muggle fighting stuff. Sounds pretty impressive.”

“Oh, cheers,” says Potter, with a shrug. “Just doing my job, you know how it is.”

Draco looks down at his desk: the bonsai yew that reminds him of home, his stupid cheap silver-plated letter-opener-cum-emergency-vampire-repellent, the battered copy of Birdsong he’s been slogging through for two months straight. “Not really,” he replies, shrugging.

“Ah, you’re not missing much. Five minutes of excitement, tops; I’d take a good Seeker’s game over that any day. But, you know—” he glances back over his shoulder, “—truth, and freedom, and all that rousing stuff from the superhero films Seamus watches. How’s your shift going, anyway?”

“Not bad,” Draco says, sitting up taller, sliding the Prophet back into view. “By the way, who’ve you got down for third Chaser? I’m stuck between Lyons and Campos.”

“You should go with Beni, definitely. Ollie’s been raving about his form all summer.” Potter leans over even further into Draco’s space, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he squints down at the page. “You got Chang down for Keeper?”

“McFarlane.”

“McFarlane?” Potter laughs, incredulously. “Seriously? Bloody Magpies fans. Completely deluded, the lot of you.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Well, Potter, I guess we’ll see.”

There’s a scuffle in the background, followed by cheers. “Coming, Harry?” Finnigan calls, wiping blood from his lip. “Hey, Malfoy, we’re heading out after this. It’s House night at XPulso; they’ve got three for ones on Rusty Nails, and we’re going to get Harry here laid.”

Harry stiffens, his eyes widening. “Er—”

“Yeah, I’ve got your back, mate. Maybe we can sort Neville out too, if anyone’ll have him.”

“I’m married, you knob!”

“You should really come along, Malfoy. It’ll be a laugh.”

Potter, still with his back to Finnigan, makes a faint choking sound.

“Sadly, Finnigan,” says Draco, trying to avoid Potter’s eyes, “I’m afraid I’m stuck at this desk for the foreseeable. But you lot have a great time. It sounds… memorable.”

Finnigan just shrugs. “Ah, your loss. C’mon then, boys.”

“Boys?”

“It’s just an expression, Davis, what d’you—”

They’re off, finally, all backslaps and hooting laughter, and no-one’s looking at Draco anymore, which is a small mercy. Potter reaches down to steal a crisp from the unopened packet at the back of the desk. “Anyway,” he says, mouth full, breath salt-and-vinegar scented, “’s been good to see you, Dra – Malfoy.”

“Yeah,” says Draco, glumly, and he hates himself for envying them all. “You too.”

***

Draco tries not to think about Potter, he really does. It’s hard, though, not to wonder what he’s doing – who he’s dancing with, where he’s sleeping – when all you’ve got for the night’s entertainment is Miffy and Jinks, a dodgy alarm on Level Five, and yesterday’s Prophet. He dithers for a while over his Fantasy Quidditch choices, trying to pretend he doesn’t care what Potter thinks, then Diffindos the completed page carefully out of the newspaper and tucks it into his pocket. Both house elves make it across the floor without incident. Through the window behind his desk, Draco watches the sun begin to rise over Salisbury Plain, as slowly, grudgingly, night gives way to day.

“You off?”

It’s his replacement; showered and shaven and far too bright. Draco nods grimly at him.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing.” He gets to his feet, rolling his shoulders and renewing the Protego on his tree, grateful, as always, for the speed and convenience of the Floo. Five minutes from desk to bed, via blackout charms and a good Silencio; that’s the way to do it.

Something’s off today, though – Draco can tell, as soon as he lands, drained and unsteady, on his hearth. The heating’s already on, for one – he can’t see his breath in the air, which is a welcome change – and hang on… is that the smell of bacon? His nausea evaporates, instantly, as he follows his nose, half in a dream, only to find—

“Morning.”

Potter’s standing by the hob, grinning, and the flat’s a little more smoky than usual, but there’s eggs frying, and sausages on the grill, and just then the toast pops up and, well, Draco could just about kiss him right now.

So he does.

“Oh my god,” he says, when Potter pulls away, popping a crispy bit of bacon into Draco’s mouth instead.

“Good?”

“Oh my god,” Draco says again, salt flooding his mouth. “But what – what are you doing here?”

“Well, I was up all night too. You’re sleeping today, I’m sleeping today – I thought, well, this way at least we get to sleep together properly for once. And I know how hungry you get after night shifts. Here.”

Dizzy with tiredness, or the cooking fumes, or possibly something else entirely, Draco takes the ketchup over to the table, then slumps down hard into a chair. Potter brings over the plates, pulls his own chair in close.

They eat in comfortable silence, and it’s only once Draco’s blissfully full of sausages and buttered toast and beautifully seasoned egg, that he finally works up the courage to speak. “So Seamus’ efforts failed, I take it?” he says, lightly.

Potter snorts. “Shut up,” he mumbles, through a mouthful of beans. “Seamus passed out after the second round of shots. The rest of my night was spent escorting him back to his cousin's house on the Knight Bus. Why,” he says, grinning, “were you actually worried?

“Of course not,” Draco replies, too quickly, then sips his orange juice to try and disguise the lie.

“That’s good. Because I want to tell them, Draco.”

Draco freezes, glass in hand.

“No, I mean it,” Potter says, dropping his knife to take hold of Draco’s forearm. The Mark aches like a bruise, but beneath Potter’s fingers, the pain’s almost sweet. “Look, you know what those shifts are like; you know how they make you feel. The raid, and then getting everything wrapped up, and then seeing you at that bloody desk – the last thing I wanted was other people’s hands on me, Draco. All I could think about was how sick I am of acting the part, of pretending I’m interested, when what I’m really interested in is…” He gestures at the room, at their plates, then, finally, at Draco. “This. You.”

“I—” Draco begins, and if his voice is a bit wobbly, well, he can blame that on the tiredness, can’t he? Beside him, Potter's resumed blithely eating his bacon, eyes heavy-lidded, as though nothing he’s said was at all out of the ordinary. Draco swallows. “They’ll say you’ve lost your mind,” he says, pressing his socked foot against the knob of Potter’s ankle.

Potter nudges him back. “Well, maybe I have. Working nights will do that, after all.”

#drarry #ss writes #happy birthday el!#god i am shit with deadlines #forgive me please

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